Day trip to Consuegra

I haven't done much traveling yet.  I had to conserve my funds the first month for frivolous expenses such as rent and groceries.  Working at 7-Eleven for the summer did not leave me with a pile of savings.

I did manage to make one day trip with Marissa.  We thought it might be both fun and educational to visit the Saffron Flower Festival in Consuegra.  So I dragged myself out of bed early, packed a lunch and a change of clothes, hauled ass across town, and nearly missed my bus to Toledo.  I seriously got the LAST seat on the bus...and only because I was traveling alone.



I met Marissa in Toledo and we caught the next bus bound for Consuegra, a tiny town in Castilla La Mancha.  It's famous for Don Quixote's windmills.  We wandered about the small town, with the help of the friendly employees of the two tourism offices, stopping to take pictures, and to have a beer. Marissa found a Simpsons toy vending machine and bought one.  We then proceeded to take pictures of Apu everywhere.  We had fun admiring the medieval costumes and watching them make a humongous Paella. We made sure to visit those famous windmills. The weather was beautiful.  Blue skies, warm air.  But by the time six o' clock rolled around, we had seen enough, and were ready to get on the bus back to Toledo.

There was just one small problem.  That bus never came.  We waited for more than two hours!  We went back to the tourism office to ask for help.  One of them was kind enough to drive us to the next town where we were able to catch a bus to Madrid instead.  It was well after midnight by the time we got back to my apartment.

As always, you can see more pictures at Facebook.

Welcome to Spain!

OK, so I'm a little late.  But anyone that has known me for any length of time, understands my devotion to the art of procrastination.

So, I live in Madrid.  I arrived September 23rd.  Wow, almost 2 months.  How time flies!  Obviously, as I am still around to write, my planes didn't crash.  And as scintillating as it was for me to sit for hours on end at Tampa International, and again at Toronto Pearson International, not to mention the trans-Atlantic flight...as exciting as that was, I'll spare you the details.

I took all of two days to find an apartment this year.  This is not because the process was any easier.  I decided that I would be less picky this year.  I settled on two requirements: firstly, I wanted to live close to my school; and secondly, I didn't want to pay more than 400€ per month (rent, utilities, internet, everything).
I took the first apartment I was able to visit.  It's two blocks, at most, from my school.  It's great.  I can walk there in less than five minutes.  It's also only 350€ per month.  Check and check.  The main deciding factor, what made me decide to live here after only a short visit, was not the apartment itself (as you'll see in a moment when I enumerate the problems).  Ana, the owner, was very friendly and very hospitable.  I've found that, no matter how seemingly perfect a home is, it will always have some kind of problem.  And if the owner is unfriendly and unwilling to help, it makes the experience that much worse.


So, home sweet home.  It's tiny.
I am not exaggerating.

The bathroom has a half-sized tub.  And you have to carefully maneuver around the poorly arranged sink and toilet to get to it.  The kitchen is a closet.  There is a sink, a gas range, a fridge and a microwave, but no oven.




The living room, which is also the dining room, is not large enough to hold the couch and table that both reside there.  You can only sit on one side of the table because it is flush against the wall, and if you are seated at the table, it becomes impossible to cross the room.

But I chose to live here.  I like it.  It's cute.  Nevermind that it is half the size of my apartment in Huelva last year (and nearly twice the price too!) or that I can't bake anything, it's my new home.  On the plus side, I have central gas and heating, so I don't have to worry about freezing this winter.  Have I mentioned it can snow here?

I also have two new roommates.  Mariana is 21 and Brazilian.  She is an ERASMUS studying architecture at the Universidad Politécnica.  She's blonde, cute and never stops talking.  This is also not an exaggeration.  Megan is 20 and she's from California.  She's here studying communications on an exchange program through the Universidad Complutense.  She's bubbly, plays the guitar and loves cheese.  If I remember, I'll get pictures.

On being shy

I openly admit that I am painfully shy.  I don't really like the concept of a blog.  To me, it is nothing more than a little place on the internet where one can cry out for the attention of others.  I'm not so comfortable with this idea.  I don't like to have others staring at me, invading every little detail.  I'm not an exhibitionist.  I like my privacy.
Which is not to say that I don't like to have friends.  Nor is it that I don't like to talk to them.  I just don't like to be the center of attention.  I'd much rather get a phone call, or a surprise lunch visit to catch you up on the events of my life.  This writing it all out and publishing it for the world to see, waiting for someone to want to come and read it just feels like megalomania.  My life is just not that big, that interesting, that glamorous that the world needs to know.
But yet, here I am, writing.  And here I am, publishing.  And here I am, waiting.  So my point is, if I have to make this effort, if I have to force myself to expose my life's details, I expect you to make it a little easier for me.  Just as you expect me to write, I expect you to read.  No, I expect more than that.  I expect you to be active participants.  I expect you to reply.  I expect you to ask questions.  I'm not here writing for my benefit.  I already know what is happening in my life.