So Long, Salamanca

The last time I wrote, I was preparing for my final evening in Salamanca with the ladies from my class.  We decided to get together for one more round of tapas, and here we are at the standard meeting place for anyone in this city, bajo el reloj ("under the clock" of the Plaza Mayor):

 

We started off at a tapas bar on one of the side streets, and then returned to Plaza Mayor so that we could enjoy another round while we waited for the lights to come on one last time.  We sat on one of the many terraces, passing a plate of tortilla and making each other laugh with grammar jokes that only Spanish teachers would appreciate.  When the plaza finally lit up, we applauded and oohed just like every one else, partly because that's just the nightly tradition and partly because it never stops being beautiful.  Shortly afterwards, we headed back to our residence hall, where I packed and then settled down for one final night in my little oven of a dorm room.

 

The following morning, we headed over to Patio de Escuelas for our last morning of classes.  All three of our teachers talked about how they would miss us, and the feeling was mutual. Carmen shared that there is something special about teaching a group of teachers, and I completely understand what she means. Enrique finished off his art unit by discussing the last half of Goya's career and life, and thanked us for being such a good class.  Sonia was the usual hilarious ball of energy, and she very sweetly told us that her home would always be open to us upon our return to Salamanca.  One of the directors of the Cursos Internacionales dropped by Sonia's class to present us with our official certificates of completion of the course.  She told us that we were now part of the family and history of the nearly 800 year old institution of the Universidad Salamanca, and that we would be welcome back at any time.  Afterward, Sonia posed with each of us and our certificates.



 

 

In addition, my classmate Miriam surprised each of us with a matching keychain featuring el botón charro.  This is a traditional symbol of Salamanca, and most of us purchased a bit of jewelry featuring this design, but the fact that we each have a matching trinket makes me feel like we're all part of the same secret club.  I know that every time I look at it, I'm going to think of the friends that I made on this trip. Thanks, Miriam!

 

 

 

Once our classes were over, most of us went back to the residence hall for one final meal. The cafeteria food wasn't necessarily the most perfect example of Spanish cuisine, but the fact that it was always ready and waiting for me  - and that  I never had to life a finger -  made it taste just fine.  I think I've hit my french fries quota for a while, though.

 

 

 

After lunch, most of us went back to our dorms to pick up our luggage, and then we walked over to the bus station to catch buses to Madrid.  We said our farewells, hugging and giving each other the customary kiss on each cheek.  I'm going to miss these ladies!

 

Irma and I had booked a hotel room for us to share near the Madrid Airport, since we were both flying out around the same time the next day.  Once we checked in, we made the very lengthy trek into the heart of downtown via metro.  We were pretty tired so we decided to take a few pictures to prove that we had been there before getting a bite to eat.

 

 Puerta del Sol (kind of like the Times Square of Madrid)

 

We strolled through el barrio de las letras, the neighborhood where I stayed the last time I was in Madrid.  There are famous quotes from Spanish literature engraved in gold lettering in the streets.  I couldn't resist taking a photo of the opening lines of Don Quijote de la Mancha by Cervantes (the author, not my cat).

 

I also remember these sculptures of the characters of Las Meninas above a shop across the street from El Prado.  Velázquez himself is situated in the middle window.

 

 

On our way back to the hotel, Irma and I decided to walk to the closest line 8 station rather than deal with the hour long commute and two metro transfers that we had our way in to Plaza del Sol.  We wound up walking for miles to make this happen, but at least we got some pretty nighttime shots of el Palacio de Comunicaciones.  I forgot how beautiful the changing lights on this building are after the sun goes down.

 

 

 

 

Eventually, we made it back to our hotel (after the requisite ice cream stop, of course), and I proceeded to have the best night's sleep of this entire trip.  Thank you, air conditioning and comfortable pillows!

 
This morning, I woke up refreshed and ready to return to the States, but I was unfortunately greeted with the email that every traveler dreads; my flight was delayed.  I headed to the airport at the appointed time anyway, because you never know what could happen.  Irma and I were scheduled to depart from different terminals, so we hugged goodbye on the shuttle bus before parting ways.  I hope I get to see her again!

I got to the airport and proceeded to wait in line at check-in for an hour and 15 minutes.  Apparently, I'm lucky to not have a layover, because most of the people ahead of me spent as much as 20 minutes at the check-in counters, trying to make alternate plans after realizing that they would never make their connecting flights.  There are a lot of people who will be spending nights in various airports throughout the US and Europe tonight, so I am grateful that I will get to sleep in my own bed this evening.  Plus, my check-in agent was so kind in spite of the fact that I'm sure she had been yelled at all morning by disgruntled travelers.  An understanding smile goes a long way.

So that takes me to the present, where I sit here idly in one of the airport cafes.  One of the perks of my delay was the free meal voucher that prevented me from having to pay out of pocket for high-priced airport food.  I can't wait to get home to hug my sweet little girl and have a belated anniversary celebration with my hard-working husband (eight years of marriage as of yesterday!).  Come on plane, hurry up and get here!

 



Boa Viagem

I returned from Portugal last night!!!   We managed to see and do a lot in a short amount of time, and the 70-something degree weather didn't hurt!

Our first stop was in Porto, or Oporto, depending on what language you speak.  I knew that this was a river port, so I was a little surprised when we first entered the city and saw neighborhoods that in no way looked like the photos I had seen on Trip Advisor.  Our guide, Angela, explained that Portugal is by no means a wealthy country, and is worse off economically than Spain.  As we walked away from our hotel, however, the scenery slowly started to change.

First, Angela took us to the cathedral. If anyone is keeping track of how many cathedrals I've visited on this trip, please let me know, because I have lost count. 

There, she gave us a little history lesson.  She explained that Porto had been the site where ships were built for Portuguese expeditions to the Americas.  She also talked about how Portugal benefited greatly from an alliance with England that has lasted for several hundred years.  She encouraged us to go inside the cathedral and take a look at the altar, which is made of silver and gold, and was the most valuable item in the city at the time of the Napoleonic invasion of Porto.  Since it was too heavy to move, members of the church decided to construct a fake wall in front of it so that it wouldn't be completely plundered by French troops.  The plan worked and the retablo is still standing today.  I managed to get a photo of it from the back of the cathedral.  I didn't want to get any closer, because as you can see, there was a wedding going on.

From the cathedral, we walked down the hill to Porto's main train station.  At one time, the structure was part of a convent, but after the convent suffered a terrible fire, only a small shell of it was left.  The remains of the building lay abandoned for a long time, until it was decided that it would make a good location for a train station.  Porto had long been producing decorative tile in a multitude of colors, but when blue and white porcelain began to arrive from China for use by the aristocratic class by the early 16th century, locally made blue and white tiles became the most popular color combination among the rest of the population.  The train station is a testament to this beautiful craftsmanship, and blue azulejo tiles can be found in and on buildings throughout Porto.

After continuing through the streets of Porto and visiting yet another church, Angela took us to the Lello & Irmão Bookstore, which was the inspiration for Hogwarts Library in the Harry Potter movies.  It is such a popular tourist attraction that there is actually a line to get in!  To me it was worth it, as the library was absolutely beautiful inside, and I had the chance to climb the gorgeous spiral staircase and wander amongst the stained glass-lit books as if I were Hermione.

 

 

After visiting the bookstore, our guide gave us free time until the following morning, so the ladies and I decided to make our way over to the river to have lunch and explore a bit.  This is where I began to see sites similar to the images that I had come across online.  We first found ourselves on the upper level of the Ponte Luis I, a double-decker bridge with cable car tracks on top and car traffic on the bottom. 

 

 

From the cable car level, we had sweeping views of the river district.

 

 

The only question was, if we're up here, how do we get down there?  We had our answer when we spotted this mildly terrifying contraption:

 

We rode the funicular down the steep hillside.  I kept waiting for it to speed up like a roller coaster, but fortunately it never did.

Check out those tracks!

 

Once we were safely deposited at the bottom of the hill, we stopped at one of the many riverside restaurant terraces for lunch.  I had croquetas do bacalao (cod fritters), and I tried some of Katie's  Francesinha, a sauce-doused meat sandwich that is very typical of Porto.  After lunch, we crossed the bottom level of the bridge so that we could get to the port cellars on the other side.  Along the way, I noticed a bit of commotion.  A group of young boys were entertaining the pedestrians by climbing along the outside of the lower level of the bridge and then jumping into the river.  They did it more than once, so I was able to get a video of their second jump (you can ignore the second half, as it took me a minute to realize the camera was still filming, and Blogger won't let me upload the edited version.

 



 

We didn't waste much time in making our way from the bridge to the port cellars.  We booked a tour an hour in advance at the Calem Bodega, then passed the time by stopping for a drink and exploring the open air market and carnival on that side of the river.  When it came time for our tour, we learned all about the making of port wine.  Wine can only be called Port if it has been harvested from grapes in the Duoro River valley and then produced locally.  Originally, the grapes were harvested only by women and transported only by men, but now both genders share in the various steps of the harvesting process.  Port is infused with additional alcohol, which stops the fermentation process and produces a very sweet - and much stronger - wine. 

 

Thanks to the alliance with England that I mentioned earlier, port became a very popular drink for women among Britain's wealthier classes.  For generations, men and women had retired to separate parlors after dinner so that men could enjoy their brandy and cigars, and women could gossip.  With the arrival of port, women suddenly had a sweet dessert beverage that they could enjoy, too.

 

Our guide showed us the different port barrels that are currently in use.  The large ones hold tens of thousands of gallons of ruby (sweeter) ports, while the smaller ones hold tawny (slightly drier and oakier) ports.  The large barrels are used for 100 years and then are destroyed, while the small ones are used for 50-60 years and then sold to Scottish distilleries to aid in the production of whiskey.

 



 

 

Following the tour, everyone was allowed to taste two different types of port, a white variety and a tawny special reserve.  In general, I found the port to be a bit too strong, but if I had to choose one to drink again, I would pick the white one.

(Katie and I appear to have been much more excited about the port tasting than the woman at the end of the table.)

 

After the conclusion of our port education experience, we wandered along the river a bit more before realizing that we would once again have to get to the top of the bridge in order to return to the hotel.  This time, we decided to take a sky tram (In case anyone is wondering how many different forms of transportation are used in this small stretch of land and water, the answer is approximately nine).

 

Me and Irma

 

We paused for a final view of the river before picking up a light dinner in the center of town.

 

By that point, we were super tired and decided to split the cost of a cab back to the hotel.  Our cab driver took off like a speed racer as soon as we got in the car, reaching 50 miles an hour on the narrow, winding, cobblestoned streets.  We held on tight and tried not to appear too terrified.  Fortunately, we made it back to the hotel safe and sound, and proceeded to enjoy a night in a room that didn't make us feel like we were sleeping in a sauna.

 

The next day, we departed our hotel at 9:00am and made our way to Aveiro for a two-hour visit.  I was very excited when I read on Trip Advisor that Aveiro is "The Venice of Portugal", but then Katie informed me that Pittsburg is known as "The Venice of Pennsylvania", which made me worry that the comparison might have been thrown around a little too loosely.  Aveiro was indeed full of little canals, and for eight euros, we took a 45 minute tour on motor-powered gondola to learn more about them.  The guide spoke to us in Portuguese, but when he realized that we didn't understand what he was saying, he switched to English.  I think I actually got more from the Portuguese version than the English one, but the gist was that Aveiro has been a producer of naturally collected sea salt for hundreds of years.  Here are a few gems from the gondola tour and our subsequent walk around town.

 

 

Aveiro was charming in it's own unique way, although I'm still hoping to visit the real Venice some day.

 

When our two hours were up in Aveiro, we boarded the bus and drove a few minutes away to the nearest beach on the Atlantic Ocean.  I set up camp in an area where some barriers created a protected bay, making for calmer waters and a much smaller crowd. 

 

 

 

 Mr. Duck stole my sunglasses and sunbathed for a bit.

 

I read, napped, and submerged myself in the frigidly cold water for a very brief period of time.  Before leaving, I wandered over to see the beach on the other side of the barrier with more open waves, and I was glad that I had made my earlier decision to stay on the quieter side.  Look at all those people!

 

Still, I couldn't resist the opportunity to dip my feet in the open Atlantic, facing west for a change.

All in all, it was a relaxing afternoon at the beach, and a fun-filled weekend in Portugal.

 



Now I'm back in Spain, preparing for my last full evening in Salamanca before leaving for Madrid tomorrow afternoon.  I'll probably write another post later tonight about how the ladies and I decide to spend our last few hours of free time together.  This trip has flown by so quickly!



 

Up the Ladder to the Roof

Yesterday Irma and I decided to climb the Cathedral tower, since it is said to have some of the best views of the city.  The series of steep spiral staircases were broken up by outdoor terraces, indoor rooms with museum exhibits, and a chance to walk the balcony catwalks in both the old and new cathedrals.  We put our dizziness aside momentarily to look over the the balcony when we heard the voice of Ángel, our guide and film teacher, leading a group tour. He's the one in the dark blue shirt in the bottom center.

After that, it was flat up against the wall for me, but I did manage to get some photos of both naves from up there.

 

 

We continued our climb, stopping to take some outdoor shots of the gothic architecture along the way.

 



 

To get to bell tower, the final staircase is so narrow and steep that they actually have a little stop light to keep people from going up and down at the same time.

 

 

Once at the top, we found ourselves surrounded by both bells and lovely views on all sides.  You could really see how far Salamanca and its little suburbs spread, until they abruptly end and turn into miles of empty land.  I unfortunately didn't get a very good photo of that delineation, but if you look below, you can see the Roman Bridge on the right.

 

 

After our equally steep climb back down the tower, we made our way across the plaza, where we caught up with Ángel once again for our very last film class.  This class covered the modern era since the end of Franco's reign and the associated censorship.  We watched some of Volver a empezar, the first Spanish movie to win an Oscar, and also discussed many of Almodóvar's quirky films.  We also watched the following recent animated short, which served as an advertisement for a full length animated takeoff of the Indiana Jones movies.  Edlin Parents:  This one IS kid-friendly. :-)  I am a little bummed that our classes with Ángel are over, but I now have a whole list of Spanish films that I plan on watching on Netflix when I get home.

 

This morning something crazy happened:  I actually went for a run.  Usually, the heat or our evening activities - or some combination of the two - keeps me up super late, making it difficult for me to exercise before breakfast.  However, between the low-key night and the fact that the temperature has finally cooled down a bit, I was able to get more sleep than usual, and finally made it out the door at an earlier hour.  The weather was still quite cool, and it was nice to go for a quick jog along the river before the city officially woke up.

 

Right now, I'm preparing the finishing touches for tomorrow morning's trip.  In about 15 hours, I'll be arriving in Oporto, Portugal!  I can't wait!  I probably won't be able to update this blog for the next couple of days, but I'm sure I'll have plenty to write about when I get back. :-)







Downtime

This trip has been a combination of GO, GO, GO and BREATHING TIME, often alternating back and forth between the two.  Right now, I'm in the latter phase, and even though that means that I don't have as many exciting topics to write about on this blog, I'm definitely getting some of the downtime that I need.

I left off writing yesterday shortly before a much-needed siesta.  I was able to sleep for an hour and left for film class feeling refreshed.  It was pretty darn hot in our classroom, but we had an interesting class where we talked about a few distinct genres of Spanish film: the comedies of the 60's and 70's, as well as the Fantaterror (fantasy + terror) films of the 70's and 80's.  We also watched a chilling clip of a short suspense film from 1972 called "La Cabina" ("The Phone Booth").  You can watch it in its entirety here, and there is almost no dialogue, so even non-Spanish speakers should get the gist.  I won't give anything away, but let's just say that I've never been happier that phone booths are now pretty much obsolete.  Attention Edlin parents: This is NOT a film for kiddos.

After film class, we walked downstairs to the building's courtyard to attend El Vino del Honor, which I mentioned in yesterdays blog post.  Since our group and another group of American Spanish Teachers are participating in programs that will end before the summer semester officially ends, we will not have the chance to attend the celebration that marks the official closing ceremony.  Therefore, the Cursos Internacionales portion of la Universidad de Salamanca threw us a little party as a thank you and farewell for being part of their family.  Two of the directors made a very nice speech, and then we had the chance to drink wine and eat tapas.  They had some of that same delicious tortilla that was served at the opening ceremony, and I'm sure that I ate about half of a tortilla all by myself.  Sonia joined us as well, and in spite of the heat, we had a very nice time.  This photo of our group is somewhat reminiscent of prom pictures that I have from 15 years ago:

Following El Vino, we decided to take advantage of the slightly cooler temperatures, and got a table at one of the restaurants in Plaza Mayor.  We split a ración (a large plate meant for sharing) of jamón ibérico and I ordered my signature tinto de verano, and we sat and chatted while waiting for the Plaza Mayor to light up.  Each night, between 10:00pm and 10:30pm, all of the lights in the plaza come on at once and everyone there cheers and applauds as if it is happening for the very first time. Sitting there surrounded by new friends and sparkling lights, with my tinto in one hand and my ham in the other, it was hard for me to do anything but smile.

 

Staying out late and then spending a decent amount of time Skyping with my family means that I got less sleep than I probably needed last night, but it was worth it. I'm a little tired, but I still had no problem functioning in class today.  With Carmen, we continued reviewing the differences between the subjunctive and the indicative.  It may sound dry, but Carmen always manages to keep us laughing and interested, and we've all learned a lot in the process. 

 

In Sonia's class we talked about the difference between Flamenco and Sevillanas.  I have taken Sevillana lessons on three different occasions, and I always thought that this dance was merely a type of Flamenco, but they are actually two very distinct genres.  Flamenco is more serious, it typically narrates a sad story, and it is traditionally performed by people of gitano (gypsy) descent.  It developed from improvisations that gitanas performed on their patios to formal shows in front of paying audiences. The Sevillana, on the other hand, is a dance in four parts that never changes, so everyone who dances it knows the exact same series of steps.  It is performed at parties, celebrations, and weddings.  This much I knew, but I was unaware of its narration.  Each part tells a different piece of a romantic story.  In the first section, a boy and girl meet for the first time; in the second, they fall in love; in the third, they fight; and in the fourth, they reconcile.  Hearing this was a big AHA! moment for me, because now the different steps of the dance make so much more sense.  Note that both dances hail from the southern Andalucía region of Spain, which is where I have spent most of my time on past trips.  For a better understanding of the distinction between the two, feel free to watch these Flamenco and Sevillana videos.

 

In Enrique's class, we moved on from El Greco to Velázquez, King Felipe IV's official commissioned painter from the 17th century.  He is most famous for Las Meninas, a painting that I have visited in El Prado on multiple occasions and have discussed with my students, but that really marked the extent of my knowledge of him.  It was interesting to learn a little bit more about his early years and his formation as a painter.  We will continue studying him tomorrow and will be talking all about Las Meninas, so I am looking forward to that.

 

After class, Katie took me to the outside of a local ham shop so that we could pose with this handsome fellow:

 

The presence of ham in our daily lives has become a bit of an inside joke with us, especially in the cafeteria.  We often discover ham in dishes where we would not have expected to find it, such as various salads, soups, vegetable dishes, and even the occasional entrée that already features another meat.  We have dubbed this phenomenon "jampresa" (a contraction of jamón/ham and sorpresa/surprise), and like to point it out to each other when it occurs.  Case in point, notice the jampresa awaiting Katie amongst her garbanzos:

 

 

Everyone needs a hobby, right?