Never have I ever...

...Seen anything as beautiful as the Alhambra in Granada. Granada as a city is possibly my favourite place in Spain. The terrace I was writing from was a lovely place to chill out, relax, listen to music, have a few drinks and meet new people. I was there for the Alhambra, and I can safely say it was worth every euro cent. However, before I launch into the details of my short stay in Granada, I have to detail the bus ride there as it was also an experience in itself.

Scenery on the drive

As I boarded the bus in Cordoba I wasn’t that sad to be leaving I’ll be honest. Cordoba was nice, but it was slow and there wasn’t much to do besides walking. I was prepared to put my headphones in and tune out to the world for a few hours; however I shortly changed my mind as I saw the scenery we were driving through. Hill after hill of olive trees in sandy soil all shades of white and red, moving on to rolling hills of green fields and little creeks with old English trees and reeds everywhere. It was beautiful. The drive was spectacular, and just when I thought it couldn’t get better, we rounded a corner into a deep valley, and as we climbed out of it around a corner, glimpsed the snow-capped mountain that would form the back drop to the roof-top terrace and the Alhambra in Granada.

The view from the Terrace

Once in Granada, I was reminded once again of Morocco. The strong Islamic influence means that the old city resembles a Medina, there are small stores selling leather goods and Arabic calligraphy street signs. I felt more at home in Granada than I have anywhere else. I found my hostel easily enough, meeting another Australian on the bus and finding that she too was staying at Oasis Backpackers, and settled in. “Oasis Backpackers” is an absolute gem. It is beautifully situated in central Granada; there is a fifteen minute (uphill) walk to the Alhambra and it is surrounded by shops and souq-like streets.

One of the Alhambra Gardens

The hostel itself has lovely spacious rooms (ours even had a bar fridge which we quickly stocked with beer) and lots of common areas, one of which is the terrace. Any hostel with a roof-top terrace is a winner in my eyes, and this terrace was beautiful. If you look to one side you can see the city of Granada and the cathedral; to the other side you can see the snow-capped mountains. Needless to say I set up camp in the sun. Granada was also made so beautiful by the fact that the weather was warm and sunny, making the temptation to sit and do nothing very strong (I resisted for the most part). Granada also threw in some lovely surprises.

As I walked into my mixed 10 bed dorm, I was greeted by someone standing at the window. I announced myself, and as he turned around I realised that we had actually met before.  His name was David, and we had met at Home backpackers in Valencia. He also told me that Vera from Finland who was also at Home Backpackers with us was also in our dorm. I was very pleasantly surprised. After our quick catch-up I went to the terrace to chill out for a while and meet more people.

Intricate detailing of the Nasrid Palace

I had no plans for the afternoon or dinner, and so after sitting in the sun for a while (tough life) I made my way around the city looking for an ATM and a supermarket. I managed to get directions (all in Spanish-I’m learning!) to a supermarket that I had somehow missed on my way, bought my food and then headed back to the hostel. I made my way to the terrace, meeting yet ANOTHER Australian and chatting as we listened to good music in the sun. More people arrived, and it was decided that we would do the Hostel’s Paella Dinner party and then listen to some live music being played at the hostel, but being up for a big night we also planned some games and shenanigans for in between times.

Gardens inside the Nasrid Palace

The night went on to the tune of Swing music, sangria, beer and laughter, as I met more Australians amongst the other guests and we got to know each other over beer pong. It was awesome to be able to relax and have fun, and after a while we decided to go out and “hit the town”, which never actually happened because we couldn’t find said town venues. We made it back to the hostel thanks to Emily’s great sense of direction and orientation, and headed to bed after chilling for a while.

The next day was my “big day” of doing things. I had reserved a ticket to the Alhambra a few days earlier, and had chosen to go in the morning slot between 8:30 and 2pm and been given the time of 10:30am for palace entry.

The view from the Lookout Tower

The Alhambra, for those who don’t know, is THE THING to do in Granada. It is an old Islamic palace built in different stages by different sultans, and turned over to the Catholic monarchs on January 2 1492. The palace is comprised of different gardens and areas including the Nasrid Palace, Alcazbar, Generalife and Partal.

It is exquisite. Words and photos cannot do it justice. I think I walked around with my eyes like dinner plates and mouth open for most of the time. The white stone walls are covered in intricate carvings of Arabic calligraphy, different shapes and objects and sculpted patterns. The ceilings are just as intricately crafted in different shades and types of panelled wood, and in some places, patterned tiles. The gardens are perfectly crafted and manicured, overflowing with flowers and well-kept hedges bordering both gravel and cobble stone paths. Around every corner there was something different; whether that be a walkway covered in arches of roses, or a terrace of jasmine and other sweet-smelling flowers. It was absolutely incredible, and I would not hesitate to go back there again (or recommend it to everyone-it is something you must see!)

More beautiful gardens

After returning from the Alhambra I made my way once again to the terrace to sit and relax and have a bite to eat. Afternoon Siesta time has become very important to me over the course of my time in Southern Spain, and I will miss it dearly in the rest of my travels. We put some indie funk music on the speakers and chilled out for the afternoon before some went off on a street-art tour and others stayed put, blogging and whiling away the afternoon in a state of semi-consciousness due to the hour at which they crawled into bed the night before.  I was to try and plan my next trip, but momentum faded and I ended up just sitting on the roof with the rest of the backpackers laughing and listening to Aretha Franklin. Words cannot express how good this felt.

Inside the Cathedral

After a while, the group that stayed behind separated. I went downstairs to use WIFI, and others went to the Alhambra. I ended up buying my bus ticket to Barcelona for the next day, and then chatting to Australia and Morocco for a while, before heading to the Terrace, finding most of the group there, and then heading back to buy beer. It was one of those perfect afternoons where you just sit and chat over drinks, laughing and whiling away time with music in the background. Two more Aussies and two New Zealanders had joined us, making it a very loud and funny group of people sitting on the terrace. Mickey was being taken, jokes were being made and it felt like we had known each other for a while rather than just over 24 hours. It was such that as a group, we decided to go and have drinks at a Tapas bar, so as to receive free Tapas.

It's blurry but you get the idea. It's opulent.

Three rounds of drinks and six Tapas dishes later, we decided that we were happy to go and sit on the terrace once more as a group and drink more wine. We sat until midnight, when half of the group decided to go to a club, and the other half-myself included, deciding to call it a night, and instead tucking into free pasta in the kitchen and going to bed.

The next morning I awoke late, trying to procrastinate my packing until after a good breakfast as I was to catch a 15 hour bus ride to Barcelona later in the afternoon. I ended up leaving my bags at the hostel as I booked more hostels and then headed to the supermarket to buy food. So much of my life now revolves around the supermarket and food; it’s a little bit ridiculous. Needless to say I love hostels with free breakfast *giggles*.

Right before my camera died...

I wrote this blog as I was sitting on my 15 hour bus ride, 2 hours in, wondering how I was going to pass the next 13 hours without going mental or getting deep vein thrombosis. Sleep seemed the only logical option, but I had already had one nap and there is only so much sleeping one can do on buses.

I ended up napping my way through the bus ride, and then arrived at Barcelona at the very early hour of 5:45am. The station was pleasantly quiet but still had enough people to make it safe, and I set up camp on a chair to wait for the Euroline bus I had just booked to Toulouse. Time flew and before I knew it I had bought my lunch and was boarding the bus wondering once again how I was going to pass the next 7 hours. Luckily enough the bus ride was smooth; there were no crying children, only a loud Moroccan couple who quite clearly thought I didn't understand their conversation (I didn't really want to hear their conversations as they cuddled "Oh habibi"-it wasn't necessary!) and I arrived in Toulouse late in the afternoon too sunny but cool weather, and set about finding my hostel. As this story ends, another begins, and I'll leave it there until I post about Toulouse.

Until next time!

Love Love!

Clem xx

The scent of Jasmine and a slight breeze...

When I wrote this blog I was so close to be completely caught up and on top of all my posts. The  Granada happened and I was once again behind! However, before I fill you in on my time in the beautiful city of Granada, I must speak about Cordoba.

The entrance to the Roman Bridge

I took the atmosphere of Cordoba as my cue to take it easy and catch up for a while. Cordoba was absolutely lovely, whilst being slightly more different from every city I have visited thus far. In parts it bears a resemblance to certain places in Morocco, which would almost definitely be the Islamic influence, and yet in parts it was Roman, and then Western again in others.  For 3 centuries Cordoba was an enlightened Islamic city, and for that reason it is still (according to Lonely Planet and backed by my personal experiences) one of the top Islamic historical cities in Andalucía. My time in Cordoba was short, however I probably could’ve shortened it further, as the sights are situated well within walking distance from each other in a condensed space similar to a Moroccan Medina. 

The Mezquita. Absolutely beautiful

I arrived in the afternoon of the 23^rd of April, and found my hostel relatively easily without a map (yes, the city is that small and condensed). It was small backpackers place called “Funky Cordoba”. In my humble, funky opinion, it was a cross between funky and a children’s nursery, with painted walls in bright colours and cartoon like animals. Moving past that though, it had an amazing roof-top terrace, and was only supposed to be a bed and place to dump my bags while I explored.

And explore I did. After familiarising myself with the hostel, I set out looking for a tourist information booth to get myself a map. There is only so far you can wander without one before getting lost. As I walked, I passed the Mezquita (I didn’t know what it was at the time, but it was pretty spectacular) and the Roman bridge, before wandering throughout some of the Jewish quarter and then up into the newer part of town to find a supermarket. For some reason they are always hidden away just past street corners with no signs, so it took me a good 15 minutes to find it.

Inside the Mezquita

I continued walking around the town for a while before becoming tired, and retiring to the roof-top terrace which I now thought of as my perch over the Medina and catching up on my blogs. I ate dinner and then went to bed early, as the hostel was quiet and there was not really much night-life to be experienced.

The next day I decided once again to take it easy. After my walk the previous night I decided to consult the map and find some "sights" that I hadn't glimpsed yet, and take my own walking tour of the city. I made my way once again past the Mezquita, over the Roman Bridge, back around to the Jewish quarter (taking many religious buildings from Mosques to Jewish Centres to Cathedrals) and then making my way up to the newer part of town to finish seeing the Roman Pillars and finding a supermarket once again.

The Terrace-so much time was spent here

By this time is was the afternoon siesta, and as everything was closed, I decided to do something I hadn't done yet on my travels, and find a place to sit and relax in the sun outside of the hostel.

As I was walking down the main road, I happened upon a small square called Plaza Iglesia-a beautiful little place circled by orange trees in blossom and containing a small fountain in the centre. There was a cathedral on on side and the other sides were buildings all containing overflowing flower boxes of geraniums. It was the perfect spot, and I passed a good hour or so sitting there with my thoughts before returning to the roof to eat dinner and plan the next few days which included taking a bus to Granada the following morning and finishing off my loop of Spain that I had started with Eliza. The night ended early after chatting to my room-mates from the United States and Canada, before I awoke the next morning to  my last breakfast on the terrace, facing 4 hours on a bus (which pales in comparison the bus rides I was looking at in the future!) to Granada.

Therefore, as this part of the story ends I shall leave this post here!

Until next time!

Love Love!

Clem xx

If you can't understand something, I guess you just call it evil...

Once again I am writing from the rooftop terrace of my hostel in Cordoba, only this time it is about a different Spanish city on my solo travels, Seville.


Paella and Patatas Bravas

What a beautiful city. I arrived in the afternoon of the 21^st to beautiful weather in lovely Seville. After arriving at the bus station I started walking, having gotten directions to the hostel when I booked. I found it easily enough, and after checking in at the “Hostel One Sevilla” (I highly recommend it) went for a quick walk. I had planned on going on the walking tour, but as only two of us wanted to go it was cancelled. Cue food shopping instead. So much of my time in Spain and Portugal has been about food; making it, buying it, tasting it. I have so much love for European gastronomy right now, and it's only going to get better as my travels go on!

I returned after my first encounter with "El Corte Ingles", a shop that slightly resembles a cross between Myers and Woolworths in the products that it sells, however it also holds other smaller stores as well . I managed to find my way to the supermercado in the basement and
then back again to the hostel, where I made a determined effort to somewhat plan the next few weeks of my travels. For those wondering, I succeeded.

Flamenco!

I had no plans for dinner, having been to the supermercado and preparing myself for a night in, but that changed when I met my room-mates Becca and Miranda, two lovely people from the UK but who had been both studying and working in different places in Spain. They were in Seville for the week for a catch up (rather like what myself and Eliza had just done), and were so nice! We got to talking and they invited me out to dinner and then a Flamenco show with them, which so so stunning. I had never seen a flamenco show before, so I said yes and my night's plans were changed drastically.

The Cathedral-very impressive!

We left before 8 with the intent to find a certain square that had been pointed out on our map by one of the staff members as having cheap Tapas, but I"m not sure that we ever actually made it to the correct square, as we ended up eating Paella and Patatas Bravas whilst drinking Mojitos at another restaurant in a small Plaza. It was lovely, and before long we started walking to find the Flamenco show. We had been told (also by the hostel) that this flamenco was local and it was also free. This made it all the more appealing. The flamenco show was a hidden gem, located in what looked like a converted garden shed out the back of a historic building, down a backstreet and through a small red door. You would never know it existed had you not been told. We arrived at just before 10 (the scheduled time) to find that it didn't start until 10:30, however there were cheap jugs of sangria to be drunk in the meantime, so we weren't fussed. The show didn't end up starting until 10:45 (Southern Spanish time bears a strong resemblance to Moroccan time) however when it did, it was awesome. There was a male guitar player and another male singer, and then a woman who did the flamenco dancing. Never before have I seen or heard feet move that fast whilst still being coordinated and in time with music. It was incredible. We had been wanting to go on a pubcrawl with the Hostel, however after the flamenco started late and we found that it was really good, we decided against it.

Square in the Judeira

After being chatted up by some random French men and bought drinks at the bar, we left the Flamenco place and started on our way home. It was around 2am and I was ready to crash, so turned in "early".

The next day was Walking tour attempt 2. The guide, Rafael, was early, and we chatted as I made breakfast and continued to get ready. I was the only one from our hostel that was going on the walking tour, but I was assured that when we arrived at the meeting place there would be more from other hostels. Wrong. As we came up to the meeting place, Rafael's phone rang, and he soon told me that actually, the other guide hadn't been able to get anyone else to come, but that he would still take me around the city. I was quite happy with this arrangement, as it meant my own personalised tour of Seville.

I believe it is a government building...

I saw all the important sights; the Alcazbar, the Cathedral, the gardens, Jewish quarter, bull fighting ring, evil window, old tobacco factory and more. As we walked, Rafael told me the history of the buildings and the areas that surrounded them, and I found that I learnt and saw so much more than what I would've had I been wandering on my own. Also, this way I didn't get lost which was almost a certainty had I started out on my own. We finished the tour with Beer and Spanish Omelet before I made my way back to the hostel for lunch and a siesta.

The afternoon was spent at the hostel eating lunch and doing more planning (I am loving being in control of where I go, when and the degree of flexibility I have to change these plans. It's so nice to be free to do exactly what you want when you want to!

My walk home passed this building. Gorgeous

In the afternoon I was invited out with the rest of the hostel inhabitants to go to a bar that was apparently playing 70s and 80s music. How could I resist?

At 10 o clock we left the hostel making for a bar (that I still do not know the name of) and after a short walk, settled in with drinks and chatted, making new friends and comparing travel stories.

The night ended at a different pub after a game of darts, and the party was only getting started as we left at 2am! The Spanish nightlife gets started very late and finishes very, very early.

After another "early" night, I awoke to prepare myself for the day's upcoming travel. I was to make my way to Cordoba, an once Islamic city filled with history and plenty of sights to see. This is also where this blog stops, and the next cities story begins. As always,

Until next time!

Love Love!

Clem xx

Yes, you may call me "master chef".

After leaving Lisbon, we took the bus to a place in Algarve called Faro. My first impressions of Faro was that it was a small, sleepy little seaside town that moved at its own pace and didn’t contain many typically “touristy” things to do. I was right, and this pleased me greatly. We had planned that Faro would be our "catch up" and "chill out" spot, as we had pushed ourselves during the past 10 days and needed a bit of a rest before I continued on travelling and Eliza returned home to Durham. Henceforth , we did a lot of "housekeeping" and readying ourselves for our imminent departure, so I'll keep this blog short and sweet!

Apparently, this is "evidence" for my parents...

After arriving in at the bus station (which isn't that welcoming) we found our hostel easily enough  and we decided that we would walk around and explore before once again attempting to cook dinner (and doing laundry-the exciting lives we lead!)This meant a trip to the supermarket.

We bought the necessary ingredients for our time in Faro, and returned to our hostel, where the next four hours was spent by me doing chores and Eliza surfing Facebook, bus lines and who knows what else whilst she waited for me so I could teach her how to cook.

Building in the "Old City"

After I rendered our bathroom almost completely inaccessible and un-usable due to my drying clothes, we went to the kitchen to begin our Master-class. We were going to make pasta with home-made tomato and white wine sauce. Needless to say we were devastated when we found that the kitchen had a beer opener but nothing for our corked wine. Our plans had been foiled! Once we recovered from the disappointment that our home-made sauce (that already tasted amazing) wouldn’t have any wine in it, we realised that we had still done “bloody well” for ourselves, and were quite proud that we hadn’t repeated our disastrous attempt at cooking in Valencia.

The night went past in a blur o resting and trying to manouver past clothes, and we awoke the next morning to a chilly but lovely day. We found that the toaster didn’t actually work, so after a small breakfast of bread, jam, Yoghurt and juice that lasted suspiciously like dishwashing detergent we set out to explore.

The "bikeway" apparently...

We walked around the marina, and then (unknowingly) into the old city, which reminded me (due to the walled nature and cobbled streets) of the Kasbah in Rabat. We kept wandering, managing to avoid a public altercation with a rude and rather stupid man who was hassling us to take a piece of paper about who-knows-what , after which we hightailed it to a small store to buy a corkscrew. Priorities!

After meandering for a while we returned to the supermarket to buy our lunch, and then made our way back to the Hostel for the afternoon. The plan was to start packing and for me to finish drying clothes, whilst also doing a little bit of planning for my upcoming trip. I have come to realise that whilst travelling every day is so much fun, it is also exhausting and rest is needed so that you can make good decisions and feel refreshed.

After a quick walk to the bus station to buy tickets and check times for the next day, we returned to the hostel and cooked some dinner-white-wine and tomato sauce with pasta take 2! Yes, you may call me “master chef”. 

White wine was most important ingredient-
right ize?

We spent the night in, finishing our wine (we couldn't use all of it in the sauce!) and beginning to pack as the next morning spelt goodbye once again as we parted ways at the bus station.

The 10 days that I spent with Eliza travelling around Spain were so much fun, and I have created so many good memories with her, from the sight-seeing, jokes and music to just relaxing and taking it easy whilst having a much needed catch up! We met some awesome people and had a whole heap of fun, so to everyone that contributed I want to say thankyou *smiles*.

After Eliza left from Faro I continued on with my travels, and I'm now finishing this blog from a roof top terrace in Cordoba, with the sound of building and slight scent of jasmine reaching me on my perch. However, in between I managed to see Seville, so before I even begin to describe my current location, I must catch up on all my happenings!

Until next time!

Love Love!

Clem xx

"I shall make a cake!"

After leaving Madrid in the afternoon of the 17^th, we touched down in Lisboa (Or Lisbon, either way), Portugal an hour later. Coming from Australia it is still mind boggling to think that an hour of flying can land you in a completely different country and time zone.

Lisbon!

We collected our bags and hopped on the Aeroporto Bus that would take us nearer to our destination; the “Goodnight Hostel Lisboa”. With only a map that we had picked up at the airport, we made our way to the Hostel, arriving to find a funky building filled with little quirks; from the mirrors shaped like aviators to the colour scheme to the chair with a crown and a “take picture here” sign. We met our host, Tatiana and felt instantly at home. Goodnight Hostel is what all hostels should be like; warm, inviting and welcoming, but at the same time relaxed, laid back and easy-going. We made our way to our dorm, and once there met our new room-mate Jack and a young Korean man who never told me his name but who was also quite lovely.

We crashed. We hadn’t seen anything apart from the view from the Plane on the way over, and this didn’t fuss us much as we were too exhausted to walk around our new city. After our afternoon rest, we walked downstairs with the intent to find dinner, but instead found Tatiana holding a massive knife and a bottle of ethanol as she said “Come, come, I’m cooking Chorizo!” We were immediately invited in and given glasses of Vinho Tinto (Red wine), whilst being told that the rule was “no empty glasses around here”.  This set the tone for our night as glasses were filled and re-filled, chorizo was eaten and friends were made. The night was going quite well, and we ate our fill and drank to our hearts content (fuelled by Tatiana saying “Drink! Drink! I have another 5 litres of this for later!”). At ten or eleven (details are un-necessary) we were joined by more people who claimed they ran a pub crawl. As young Australian’s “always up for a party”, we needed no encouraging, and to our credit, we left our hardest partying until Lisboa.

Praca de Comercio

MOVING ON.

We awoke the next morning with sore heads and after a breakfast of pancakes, we set out looking for hangover food in order to wake up and explore the city. Enter the “Pastel de nata”, Portugal’s famous custard tarts. We had been told by Ben, Eliza’s brother that we absolutely had to try them, and so as we walked gingerly past a patisserie, we stepped in and once again indulged. The Pastel de Nata are incredibly different to the normal custard tarts that we have in Australia. They are made of flaky pastry in a round shape filled with custard that doesn’t have a cinnamon sprinkle and that has been slightly cooked over to give them a more solid top. It’s difficult to explain but I can assure you they are delicious.

Favourite photo from the entire two weeks-Eliza and I on Pubcrawl.

We continued on our way feeling much brighter, aiming for the Castelo de Sao Jorge and the neighbourhood surrounding it that we had been told was “very cool” to explore. We made it to the top (of course Lisboa is hilly and the Castel is at the top of the largest hill on the morning when we were most hungover) and then walked around exploring, before continuing back down the hill to the Praca de Comercio, the main square near our hostel. We were side tracked by ice-cream (they did a very good Pistachio) as we went to the square to sit. We had planned to meet Bruno and Adam, our friends from Valencia (but who actually lived in Lisboa) at either 2 or 3, so with an hour to kill we headed back to the hostel to rest.

Portugese street art. A little quirky.

When we met Bruno and Adam at the square an hour later, we headed off as they were going to show us around. Our first stop was a small shop which sold Cherry based Sherry, at which point I was reminded of my earlier declaration that “I’m not going to drink today”.  I ate my words with pleasure and found that the Sherry was lovely if very strong (you could feel it warming you as you drank it). Bruno then showed us an opulent old museum with some beautiful décor that reminded me so much of Morocco, before taking us to the Museum of Cinema for a (by this time much needed) coffee. After sitting and conversing for a good while, we set off once again, to see a statue of a (apparently) famous poet. We then headed back to the hostel, as we were fading fast and needed not only rest but decent food.

Enter Tatiana and Jack. Jack had told Tatiana he felt like Chilli and Tatiana felt like cooking. Our problems were solved. Tatiana cooked a massive serving of Chilli Con Carne and rice for the entire hostel, before declaring that she was bored and that she would therefore make a cake. It was the sort of random and relaxed night that we needed after our efforts the previous night (and it was so easy to turn down the Pub crawl offers later on).

Bruno, Adam, Eliza and myself

We awoke the next day to our last day in Lisboa, as we were moving on to Faro in the South for a couple of days before Eliza returned to Durham. We had a nice breakfast, packed and then set off for the Metro (which we would never have found if not for a lovely woman who pointed us in the right direction) that would take us to the Bus Station. Five hours later, we arrived tired but in good spirits (once again without a map), in Faro, Southern Portugal, which is where I will leave you.

Until next time,

Love Love!

Clem xx

"I think we just had dessert before lunch..."

We pick up our story in Madrid, the last stop on our whirlwind trip up the East Coast of Spain.

Paseo del Prado

We arrived in Madrid at the bus station at 10:00pm which was slightly earlier than we expected and set about finding our bearings. Lonely Planet had come through, and we had a rough idea of where we currently were in relation to our hostel, and where the hostel itself was situated with regards to the rest of the city. We took a quick taxi that gave us glimpses of sights that we would see the next day, and arrived tired but in good spirits at the Hostel, La Posada de Huertas.


Situated close to the centre of town, Posada de Huertas was a bit of a let down after our experience with the hostel in Barcelona. The man behind the reception was not at all welcoming and came very close to rude, which was not something we were expecting or pleased about. With our spirits dampened we made our way to our dorm where we met our Chilean room-mates (who were lovely)and found our feet before heading out to explore and find dinner. As we walked the streets in the chilly night air, we passed a Pizza place and decisions were made quickly as to what we would eat. It was actually quite nice, and the night came to a rather inconspicuous end as we made our way back up the staircase to our room after finishing our meal.

The next morning we awoke and headed down to breakfast early, as it was not only included but quite decent.

After extensive consultation with our map the previous night, we had decided to skip the walking tour and create our own, as everything we wanted to see was within walking distance of anyone coordinated and able to read directions (so we only just met the criteria really *giggles* )

After a weird ‘almost interaction’ with a local child who followed us for a while (and whom I suspected of being interested in snatching our bags) we walked to the end of our street and found our bearings. Our first stop was the Paseo del Prado. We took in the Mueseo del Prado, and the Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza, however as there were all closed (it was Monday) we continued walking on to Downtown Madrid where, after a spot of shopping we made for our lunch destination of Plaza Mayor.

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Plaza Mayor

Plaza Mayor, according to our sources (Hostel staff and Lonely Planet) was “the place” to eat in Madrid. Around the outside of the massive square was a myriad of little restaurants, cafes and bars-all filled with tourists. We don’t have a particular affinity with tourist haunts, as they tend to be more expensive and less traditional, so we decided to move on. We arrived at an old building called the Mercado de San Miguel which whilst beautiful, looked slightly like it was surrounded not by pillars as was intended but by ancient scaffolding. However, it was what was contained within that interested us. Inside the Mercado is a range of little boutique stalls (think the Adelaide Central Markets on speed) selling everything from yogurts to vodka to Tapas to fresh fish. We decided that since we hadn’t had lunch, we would indulge.

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Mercado de San Miguel

We found a lovely little pastry place and grabbed a ‘gourmet’ chocolate croissant (as neither Eliza or myself were really hungry), before continuing walking. As we walked, we continued to discover more stalls, eventually happening on a busy shop selling fresh Paella. It is amazing how you aren't hungry until you find something that you really want to tea. As we walked up, the sight of the large dishes was too much to resist, and we decided that “we just had desert before lunch”.

Paella, for those that have never heard of it before, is THE Spanish dish to eat. When you ask what sort of food you should try in Spain (or whatever small Spanish city you are in), the answer is always Paella. It is basically a big dish of rice mixed with spices and then certain types of meat, seafood and vegetables. We ordered two types in the Tapas size to share and automatically knew why this dish was considered special. It was unlike anything I have tried before and absolutely delicious.

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View of the Palacio Real

After relaxing over lunch (we were lucky enough to find space and table which is difficult-the Mercado is notoriously busy with both tourists and locals) we continued walking. Our next stop was the Palacio Real and some more Cathedrals. I have never seen so many cathedrals in such a small area, all on a grandiose scale in beautiful gothic architecture and design.

We finished our ‘tour’ feeling exhausted and ready to crash, so we returned to the hostel early in the afternoon to plan out the next stage of our journey (and have a hilarious catch up with the family in Adelaide). We sat in the arm chairs in the reception (the only place that WiFi was available in the hostel) for a good few hours as we ate Oreos and chocolate and joked while we prepared ourselves for the next day’s travel. We ended the night with Pizza (once again the cheap-arse and exhausted travellers “easy option”), before packing our bags ready for our departure.

Our plan for the next day had been set in stone for months as Eliza had managed to find cheap flights for both of us to Lisbon, Portugal. We ate breakfast at the hotel and made our way to the Airport very early, sitting with the masses before boarding our EasyJet flight to Lisboa.

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Street scape

As we left I reflected. In 8 days we had seen 4 different cities, all of which had their quirks and were quite different from each other whilst still being typically “Spanish”. We had pushed ourselves to the limit by travelling almost every second/third day and felt we were ready to take it easy in Lisboa, the second to last part of our total journey.

Madrid was a beautiful city with stunning architecture (of which we took many photos); however when compared with other places we had been it left me rather cold. The city itself was lovely, but I didn’t enjoy it as much as I had Barcelona or Malaga. We were ready to move on and find something different, and Portugal held the key.

So I’m still playing catch up, but hey, I’m getting there! I am writing this from Cordoba, however I am now on my lonesome because Eliza has returned to Durham as the school term has just recommenced. I will leave the details in between to the next series of blogs!

Until next time,

Love Love!

Clem xx

The true "Barcelona Experience"

We arrived in Barcelona late afternoon on the 14th of April and were greeted by overcast weather in a beautiful city. First impressions are everything and as we disembarked the bus we saw streets lined with green leafy trees and brilliant architecture the likes of which we hadn't seen before. Compared to Valencia, Barcelona was a busy, bustling metropolis, which whilst different was not unwelcome.

Gothic cathedral no.1

We had our directions and, thanks to the information stand, a map (the first time we were even remotely prepared in our travels before starting to walk!), so we set off in search of our accommodation, the AWA Barcelona Plaza Catalunya Hostel. After a second stop at an information stand for more directions and another map, we found our destination and were pleasantly surprised. It did not look like a hostel. Set in an old building with big wrought iron and glass doors, the hostel was a converted apartment on the 3rd floor. We buzzed in and were met by Facundo, our lovely host, and Sara, a volunteer from the United States. The hostel was lovely, so homely, and after a quick cup of tea we set out with a map to explore the Gothic quarter.

The Gothic quarter of Barcelona is magical. Small, narrow, winding alleyways in between tall buildings containing both houses and boutique shops. Around every corner was something different; we found small squares filled with artisans and cafes, and large cathedrals surrounded by people both local and not. We were working against the clock to see as much as possible before walking back to the hostel, as Sara had invited us to see a magic light fountain show and we were meeting at 6, so we meandered out way back along the Ramblas, Barcelona's main street, to the hostel, where we met Joe and got ready to go out.

Gothic cathedral no.2

However, our plans changed on the way. As we walked to the metro to try to get to the fountain, it started to rain quite heavily. It was decided that we instead would go to a bar that did 5Euro cocktails with a free shot. After spending a while inside, we did a spot of grocery/beer shopping, and it was decided that since Eliza and I hadn't had dinner, we would go back to the hostel and make crepes.

Once back at the hostel, wine and beer was bought out as we attempted to make a crepe recipe without proper measuring equipment It turned out quite well, and we had a lovely dinner of crepes with smoked salmon, Swiss cheese and avocado, and then jam. It was one of the nicest and most relaxed dinners we had had in our entire trip. We sat and laughed and drank wine until around 12, when it was announced that we would go out and party.

Dinner

Our first stop was the Bar Marsella, reputedly the oldest bar in Barcelona (200 years and still strong). I felt as though I had just stepped back in time; the walls were lined with dusty bottles, the mirrors caked with dust and the fixtures all aged but completely original. The reason behind going to this bar we were told, is because the true "Barcelona Experience"  involves drinking 70% ABV Absinthe, the house drink. The method of drinking is traditional; one takes a glass of Absinthe and puts a fork over the rim, and on that fork a small sugar cube. After setting up your glass, you pour (very) cold water slowly over the sugar cube until it dissolves, and then stir. It tastes like pure licorice (aniseed) and you can feel it as it goes down. One glass was definitely enough! I didn't see any green fairies, but that was probably because we hightailed it to the clubs until 5am where we were enveloped in multi-coloured strobe lights and loud music.

At 5am when we couldn't find our hosts (Joe had gone home and Sara and Maya had disappeared telling us to "wait here") we took a taxi back to the Plaza. realising we didn't have a key to the door, we buzzed in but then went back outside to call Facundo to open the door (sorry!).

Barcelona street scape

The next day we awoke to go to the bus station and buy our tickets to Madrid, however there was drama! Our travels had been going smoothly, and we had been wondering if we were going to run into any troubles. We did, but we used our amazing problem solving skills to get around them. We wanted to take the 2:30 bus to Madrid, but upon arriving at the bus station found that it was full and that the next bus didn't leave until 11:30. We would've stayed around and explored Barcelona more had we not already booked a hostel in Madrid and put a non-refundable deposit on it. We investigated, and ended up finding that we could take a bus to Zaragoza and then another bus to Madrid and get there at exactly the same time. The catch? We had to leave at 1, an hour and a half earlier, pushing us for time as it was by then 12. We would also have an our and a half wait in Zaragoza. We raced back to the hostel said a quick goodbye and then grabbed a taxi to the station.

We arrived in Madrid at 10pm, 20 minutes earlier than if we had taken our preferred bus, and found our way to a taxi and then on to our hostel.

The next part of our story continues in Madrid, so I will leave you here. Only a short one this time because we were only in Barcelona for 24 hours! I think I shall return after my time with Eliza comes to an end and do some more exploring. I am slowly catching up on my blogs but we're travelling so fast that by the time I've finished one blog, I've got at least one if not two more to write! Our time in Spain comes to end end with the next blog, and we move on again.

Until next time,

Love Love!

Clem xx

Salsa? I assume you mean the dance...

Yes mum, I meant the dance.


Our story picks up in Valencia, where we spent an amazing 2 days meeting new people, exploring, and dancing salsa.

Buildings opposite the tourist office

At 7:30 am on Thursday 12th April we stepped off the bus from Malaga weary eyed and ready to ditch our packs and start exploring. Once again without a map but with detailed directions to our hostel, we started walking. We managed to miss our hostel (Home Hostels Valencia-highly recommend) by about 5 metres (we failed to look left instead of right-oops) so continued downtown where we bought birthday breakfast in a cute little bakery before finding a tourist information office. They pointed us in the right direction and 30 minutes later we had left our luggage at the hostel and were on our way-WITH a map.

We had decided to spend two days in Valencia, so we could a) recuperate slightly from our bus trip (which didn't happen in the end, read on) and b) break up the sightseeing. Because of this I was able to get in touch with my inner child on my 20th birthday at the Aquarium and Science Museum, an interactive museum where we learnt many things and thoroughly enjoyed the experiments (but remember none due to our exhaustion and state of delirious-ness). Located near the Jardinia Turia in a complex of 6 buildings, surrounded by large pools of water and coloured white with all shades of blue, the Aquarium and Science Museum were a combination that, as young adults, we couldn't resist. Needless to say we spent our first day watching a dolphin show and wandering the underwater tunnels, and then playing with science experiments about light and sound.

Don't judge us! We enjoyed every minute of it.

After We made our way back to the hotel where we checked in and subsequently crashed, before heading out to buy breakfast for the next two days and then a birthday Tapas dinner complete with wine and many laughs. As a first experience of Spanish Tapas, it was marvellous. I love eating local food and this did not disappoint. We had found a local restaurant that wasn't so touristy and sat for a good two hours laughing and chatting before taking a free shot (we didn't even ask for it, it came with the bill) and heading back to the hostel. Our story becomes remarkably more interesting from here on.

Yep, I was tired. Science museum

As we walked upstairs to the kitchen, the sound of funky music came wafting down to us. We arrived at the top to find a fairly large group of people dancing salsa and drinking sangria . We started speaking to some of them and found out that they were friends from Kent University Salsa Club who were on a Salsa trip for the week in Valencia, so we sat down and got to know them and ended up planning out our night. We had seen the poster for the nightly pub crawl, but hadn't been sure how many people would be on it and whether it would be any good. However, we were told very quickly that the entire group were going and that we should come. After being asked "who ARE you?" by a guy called Sam (NOT Derek, thanks Ben) and responding "Just random Australians", shoulders were shrugged and "I'll drink to that" was announced as the first of many glasses of Sangria were poured until we left for the pub crawl.

At the first pub. Happy times...

Needless to say we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves and woke late the next morning feeling very chipper after our 5 am crawl into bed.

The next day we declined the invitation to join the salsa group on a walking tour of the city, instead deciding to spend our day biking around the city and to the beach. We hired two bicycles and set off in the sunshine, only almost crashing outside the shop as we quickly remembered how to ride. It's true-you don't forget! We made our way down the road to the bike path and the Jardinia Turia and set off on our tour. The Jardinia Turia is basically an old walled riverbed that winds the entire way through the city and has been converted into a gorgeous long walking and biking path surrounded by gardens filled with all sorts of varying plant life, playgrounds and sitting areas. As we followed this path along we passed the Arts complex containing the Aquarium and Museum and all manner of other buildings until the end, where we took our chances and headed in a direction that we thought was the beach (it's quite difficult to read a map whilst riding a bike, so we abstained).


Bicycles!

After making our way through the suburbs we made it to the beach, and rode around marvelling at the atmosphere that we decided Adelaide severely lacked in it's beach front neighbourhoods. We had wanted to take a picnic lunch, but instead had lunch in quaint cafe before heading back to the hostel along the Jardinia.

Jardinia Turia

FACT: If you don't ride bikes for years and then spend a few hours on one just for a day, you will find sitting down incredibly painful for the next two days.

When we got back to the hostel, we decided to sit in the kitchen and do some planning. However, this was quickly high jacked when Ben, the leader of the Salsa group, invited Eliza and I to join their salsa lesson. We ended up spending the afternoon on the rooftop terrace dancing (or attempting as the case was) to dance salsa and having a grand old time. We were then invited to join them at a salsa club that night after dinner.

Salsa dancing on the roof

When I say dinner, I really mean our pathetic excuse for scrambled eggs. I had decided to cook an omelet for dinner, but pressed for time, I left Eliza in charge of the cooking, hopeful that she would know how to flip an omelet, whilst I ran downstairs to change clothes. As I ran back upstairs, I smelt smoke, and after my initial thoughts of "oh dear God I hope the place isn't on fire", I walked into the room to see Eliza merely looking at our smoking pan of burnt eggs and vegetables. It would've been a comical image had we not had to eat them. However, after a dodgy salvage effort, we wolfed down the food and were ready to walk to the Salsa club.

When we arrived at the club, we found the gates locked and the place deserted. Initially confused after being told it was definitely open that night, we found a bar to sit in for a while whilst we waited for Ben to sort out what was happening. It was discovered that the club definitely opened that night, but one neighbour said 9 and the other 11, so we decided to go to another bar and wait a little while longer.

Clearly, Ben and I are just too good looking! 

At around 10 we walked into the club to find long lines of people learning a dance routine, and some of us promptly joined in. It is an interesting experience having to switch partners and move along the dance line, dancing with people whose language you don't actually speak, and I ended up sitting down after my 3rd male Spanish dance partner. We finished the night with shenanigans both in the bar and out. Gavin had passed out, so pens were produced and pictures were drawn as belongings were piled on top of him, and then on the way home Eliza and Ben tried (and succeeded) to "simba" people with water, creating many laughs.

Clearly, the theme of our stay in Valencia was Salsa, and this was not a problem at all!

I will leave you here, as the next day was spent mostly on the bus travelling up to Barcelona, which is where the next part of our story continues.

Until next time,

Love love!

Clem xx