Category Archives: Travel

These are all the posts that I write about traveling, most of them will be from studying abroad experiences that I didn’t get a chance to write about, so here they are!

Adventures Out West: Highlight 1

I’m finally back! I know some of you might have thought that I had forever given up my blogging, because of my not-so-ritual ritual of posting about once every four months or so then expecting everyone to go nuts over my”AAAHHH I’m back!!” post.

I’m so good at words. And yes, those are the best ones I could come up with. And YES, I was an English Major. That’s besides the point.

Since I’ve been gone (cue Kelly Clarkson), I finished a 6 month long-term Substitute teaching assignment that kicked my butt, and now, I can breathe for the first time. I’m not going to go into it that much right here right now, so I’ll save that story for another time.

After finishing said butt-kicking job, I decided to go on a two-week solo trip out west (to breathe for the first time) to Salt Lake City, Bend (Oregon), Yellowstone, and the Tetons (both in Wyoming). That’s right, I said solo. I didn’t say sobbing, but solo. Although I’m quite sure I had quite a few breakdowns during the trip.

I know what you’re thinking: “why would you want to go on a trip like this by yourself? Wouldn’t that be lonely?”

Well, sometimes yes, but also no; yes, because it is nice to share moments in beautiful places like these with someone else, and then no, because you get to learn, like I did, how fun it is to do things on your own. Essentially, I was never really on my own, because I stayed in Airbnb locations where you are usually bound to meet people that you can talk to, unless you’re staying in just a house by yourself. I stayed in a pretty cool one-person hut on a property complete with a greenhouse, some gardens, a chicken coop, a tepee, and even a common house, so I still got to meet new people.

I also wasn’t by myself because I was constantly in communion with Jesus, whether I was super stressed out, or just simply saying “wow God, wow,” at his amazing creation, like, oh this:

IMG_9664

I want to go on a spree and tell you guys everything that happened all at once, but I don’t want to lose you in the process, so I’ve decided to separate this into several different posts. Plus, I love keeping people on the edge of their seats, but not in a dreadful, thriller movie type of way. I’m hoping one day to perhaps write another memoir-type thing about this, but for now, here’s what I have to offer:

Four highlights.

People have asked me so far what my favorite part of the trip was, and, well, as my fellow travel-loving friends know, that question is nearly impossible to answer. So, I’ve decided to say that there were four highlights. I have since revised that list, several times, but there are, for the most part, four highlights. I will, like I said, post these in a series over a few weeks or so.

So, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you in chronological order:

FOUR HIGHLIGHTS!!!!

…and, here we go:

Highlight 1: Bend, Oregon, Week 1, June 12-17

Technically, my journey began on June 10-11 at Salt Lake where I actually dipped my toes (just the toes, nothing more) into said Salt Lake, and saw where the antelope play and the buffalo roamed, but that wasn’t even the best part. Like I said before, this will also have to be another story for another time.

While I was in Bend, Oregon, I had the wonderful opportunity to volunteer at a horse ranch. If you ever have the chance to go out there, do it. Not only is Bend a beautiful area with the three sisters Faith, Hope and Charity, and Mount Bachelor all snow capped and doin there good old mountain thang in the background, but also the ranch is such an amazing place. What a great story of how God can use even a forgotten cinder pit and turn it into a working horse ranch that pairs broken youth (both mentally and physically) with horses who are also sometimes both mentally and physically broken. While I was visiting, I didn’t feel like just a visitor- I felt like a valued team member, and even got a t-shirt at the end of it all to prove it.

And by the way, meeting one of the founders-according to our volunteer coordinator at the farm I volunteer at here in Lancaster-is like meeting Pocahontas. She’ll look you deep into your eyes, and it’ll feel like she’s looking into your soul. Try talking to her for just five minutes without spilling out your entire life story and/or crying. Not like I did either of those or anything.

Before leaving, I had the chance to go up to the cross positioned at the top of what used to be the cinder pit, which also just so happens to have one of the best views of both the ranch, and the Sisters. If God can make something that we pass by indifferently on a daily basis (like an old quarry, for instance) different and beautiful, think of what else He can do. After surviving the most difficult job I have ever had for six months, and finally getting away (both physically and mentally), I could take a step back, and look at where I was. God had brought me through everything, and now, I feel different, and more prepared for anything.

So if you can this weekend, take a moment to get away and reflect. I’m sure you’ve gone through tough times as well, but think about where you are now. Those things that happened in the past was God equipping you with tools for the future. I also hate that cheesy saying that goes something like, “if God brings you to it, He can bring you through it”, but it’s true. With Him, you and I can face anything.

So without further ado, I conclude today’s post, and therefore the first highlight of the trip. Hope you’re feeling excited for the next one. I know I am because oooh man, it’s gonna be a good one, I can tell!

 

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Hellooooo from Portugal!!!

It´s been about two weeks that I’ve been here, and here you’ve probably been thinking that I wouldn’t post anything! Well, I hate to tell you that you’re wrong, all you naysayers, you’re wrong!!

*the writer slowly pulls her fingers away from the keyboard, realizing that calling her readers “wrong” from the getgo (get-go? get go? gecko??? Yeah, the last one is probably the right one, for sure) is probably not the best way to make friends, or to keep them, either. She slowly returns to the keyboard with a mug of tea in one hand, and laxatives in the other, to see which will best aid her in loosening the bowels of creativity and awkwardness. She starts anew.

Hellooooo from Portugal!!!

Why, hello my friends! If you haven’t already been thoroughly disgusted by my reference to bowel movements (all in the spirit of a semi-truthful blog that actually resulted in no laxatives whatsoever), and are still reading this post, I am proud to say that you are some of the strongest human beings, if not some of the craziest.

*once again, said writer raps her hand with a ruler. “How dare you be so rude to your readers!!” She sets the measuring device down next to the delightful drink selections, then begins once again.

As I was saying before I was so rudely being rude, I have been in Portugal for exactly two weeks now. Well, technically, I’ve only been in Porto for one week, since I did the Camino the first week (well, more accurately for four days, but still). So I started working here at the refuge since last Monday, and have gone on a few sightseeing excursions around Porto. Basically, it’s been pretty busy, yet not busy. You’ll see what I mean in a little while.

Well, first of all, we (and the “we” refers to my mentor and intern-training-extraordinaire, and a fellow extraordinary already-trained-by-the-intern-training-extraordinaire-July-Intern) did the Camino for a week, or as my mentor and intern-training-extraordinaire calls it, a “mini-camino”. We started out in Pontevedra, Spain, then made our way up to Santiago, Spain, which is only about 65 kilometers away (that’s 40 miles, but it sounds much better to say it in kilometers). Other pilgrims that we have met have come all the way from Porto, or even Lisbon, which can be around 250 miles and more.

When walking the Camino, we developed a very specific routine: wake up around 5 am, start walking at 6, take a break at a cafe at around 10 or so, then arrive at our hostel around 1, or even earlier. Then, after the refuge managers stamped our credentials and showed us our beds, we would set up our beds, shower, then take a nap for about 3 hours- all in no particular order. We would joke as we were walking during the day (or racing, more like) that each person we passed was a bed that we just gained, since the pilgrim’s refuges were first come, first serve. At one moment, I was at a breaking point with such a low amount of sleep, lots of back pain, and hip blisters, that I began to growl hysterically as we were climbing up a hill, to try to keep in front of a large group of Spanish kids. “AAAHHH!!! We need those beds!!”

I also think I’m a bit competitive naturally, so that could’ve been it. Though it was hard to silence that voice upon walking the last few kilometers to Santiago, since we wouldn’t be staying there overnight.

So without further ado, here’s a few pictures from my Camino!

The day before we began. I'm clearly very confused about how pictures work.

The day before we began. I’m clearly very confused as to how pictures work. To my right is the extraordinary already-trained-by-the-intern-training-extraordinaire-July-Intern, and to my left is my mentor and intern-training-extraordinaire.

photo 1

This is where we stayed for the 1st official night of the Camino. We got to meet so many new people!

photo 1 (1)

Walking into Valga, the town that never seemed to end. But hey, there’s some nice views every once in a while. I think this one was the worst. 

photo 3 (1)

Only 16.2 kilometers left until Santiago. Woohoo!!!

photo 4 (1)

Corn fields and vineyards- a combination I never thought I’d see in Spain.

photo 2 (2)

I see Santiago!! There it is! There! Right! There!!! 

photo 3 (2)

Oh. The Cathedral is under construction, and apparently always is… oooooookkkaaayyyy….

photo 4 (2)

Inside the cathedral. Quite nice actually. Freakin’ crowded though. 

photo 3 (3)

Inside the cathedral, with the thurible, which we unfortunately didn’t get to see at work.

So that’s basically it. I would tell you more about Portugal, but that might have to wait a little bit. One can only digest so much at a time (and one only has so much laxatives… jk. This one really has none, but one has to keep the gross theme comin), like parts of the Camino. But anyways, here are a few things that I’ve realized in the time that I’ve been here:

  1. The Francesinha is a lunch/ dinner of Champions. The Francesinha–which means “little french lady” for reasons I don’t quite know of yet– is a traditional sandwich comprised of bread, ham, two types of sausages, steak, ham, bread, egg, cheese, then a spicy, tomato-based sauce on top– all of that from bottom to top. Plus fries.
  2. I’ve been folding fitted sheets wrong my entire life.
  3. Sleeping on the job has never before been allowed, but here, it’s never been easier, or more accepted.
  4. I can pretty much butcher any and all languages, even English, even though I studied both English and Spanish in college. Yup.

And yeah. So this time, that’s actually about it! I wish I could say that I have a poem for you, believe me, I tried. But you know, sleepers gotta sleep. And poets gotta poet… yeah, that’s how it goes.

Night all! And keep away from those laxatives now.

T-minus 19 hours and 2 minutes until I leave for Portugal!!!

AAHHHHH!!!

Ok, so I’ve been running around like a chicken with its head cut off today, trying to finish packing- aaaaannnd I still have quite a few other things to do tomorrow.. but it’s ok, it just means that I’m that much closer to being in Portugal!!

I don’t think that it’s really hit me quite yet, that I’m going on a mission trip to Portugal- a mission trip, where I’ll get to walk the Camino de Santiago for a week, then meet, greet, and eat with pilgrims of that walk for the whole duration of a month. How cool is that?

Do you know what’s even cooler? God couldn’t have been more clear about His plan for this. As of right now, I am FULLY FUNDED for my trip!! In just a short span of less than one month, God has spoken through and inspired many people to donate towards my trip (thank you so much to all of you who have, by the way!!), and even came through on my plane tickets, which ended up being around $300-$400 cheaper than the budgeted amount. He might as well have come down with chariots of fire and told me Himself- He has been that obvious. Ok, ok God, I guess I’ll go…. if I reaaaally have to….

I think that’s what this experience has taught me so far: when God wants you to go somewhere, or to do something, you’ll know. I was very unsure about the trip in the first place, because I was uncertain about my entire future. But as I pursued it with caution, I had no closed doors. I was accepted to the internship, sent out my letters and received gifts from friends and family members, and had two very successful and encouraging bake sales. It couldn’t have been more clear. He eliminated those doubts, and pushed me through those open doors- ok, maybe not pushed, but more like a little love tap- a little tippy tap tap tap-ed through the doors (a few of you might know what that is in reference to- let’s just say there’s some putting involved)..

“Ok, so that’s all I should write,” she wrote- or I wrote. ‘Tis 2 in the am, and I’m going to be quite busier than a bumblebee baking a banana batter bake (wait, what? that doesn’t even make any sense…).

Now, I’m at 18 hours and 36 minutes before I depart. And I know what you’re thinking, “wow, that’s very specific and skilled! How do you even know that? You must be excellent in Math!” And I would answer, “Why no, I am not, actually. I still depend on calculators to tip at restaurants.” But then I would explain my excellent negotiating skills that allow me to coerce Google to tell me everything that I need to know.

or….

… it just shows up because I have a Google account because Google can keep me accountable. Oh how I can always count on you, Count Google!

Well now, it is getting much later, and I am getting much weirder. Ta-ta for naww ma frahnds!

Back on the grid! Yet about to go back off.

Hey guys!!

I know it’s been a long time since I’ve posted anything, life has just been too crazy… crazy awesome!

For one, my sister just got MARRIED!!! Here’s a pic of us siblings (and our new bro) being all adorable together.

Ohhh yeah.

Awww yeah. We’re cute. 

So yeah. Seeing my sister/best friend get married to her high school sweet heart of 8 years was probably one of the best things I’ve ever seen/been a part of.

Other happenings is that I got accepted to go on an internship/mission’s trip to Porto, Portugal from around July 18th to August 16th this summer! I will be working with the pilgrims of the Camino de Santiago, which is a trail that winds through many parts of Spain, Portugal, and France. As an intern, I will be welcoming the pilgrims to the refuge (pilgrim’s hostel) and the city of Porto, and serving them dinner. I will be walking the pilgrimage myself for about a week of the time that I’m there, so I will be able to share my stories as well as hear theirs. This will be an excellent opportunity to share Christ with them because as part of a pilgrimage, most people are already open to spiritual exploration.

Like any mission’s trip, I do need to raise support. I’ve added my newsletter link into this post, which also includes information on how you can be a financial partner with me. I’ve also posted a link to the donor site if it doesn’t work through the newsletter:

Jennifer Davies Portugal Newsletter

http://www.encompassworldpartners.org/missionaries-giving-list

Anyways, that’s my life in a nutshell. To end this post, I decided to include a poem that I had yet to post. I wrote it for the “Poem a Day” contest in April with Writer’s Digest Magazine, which was very challenging, but extremely rewarding. And hey, even though I couldn’t complete the contest, I got 22 poems out of it, so that’s pretty great!

I will have to warn you though; this poem is pretty sad, but it might be one of my favorites. And it talks about traveling, which I will be doing really soon, Lord willing!

A Trip to the Seashore

***

It’s time to bid you goodbye.

I tuck you in for the night

and make sure you have your ticket to ride.

***

Slowly, I tuck the ticket under your lapel

and ready your bags by the table

for as soon as you’re able.

***

You fill up on your fluids; it might be a long journey

to go to the sea, but you’ve got everything you need

from your suit, to your goggles; even your khakis.

***

You’re asleep, from what I can tell

Your eyelids flicker, as if dreaming or under a spell

I’d be happier if you were all well.

***

“It’s time to go, you might be late,”

I say to you, and nudge you awake,

“You don’t want to leave the others at the gate.”

***

You blink your eyes slowly; your breathing is steady,

but you look to me as if you are ready.

my legs begin to feel unsteady.

***

“Goodbye my darling,” I say with a smile

and turn to reach for the nurse’s dial.

“I’ll see you on the other side, though that might be a while.”

***

Whoops!! Long time no write…

I have realized just recently (like, now), that I have not written my lovely blog posts for a little bit over a month now, and I know most of you have been chomping at the bit to hear more of my exciting adventures. Well, I shall not disappoint (I hope not) with my adventures. I still have yet to update this dear blog with my adventures in Granada, Sevilla, Madrid, my GBU campamento, and just recently my trip to Italy and Greece. I will start first with my adventures within the country.

First, we started off with Granada, right outside the Sierra Nevadas. Just imagine cultural España with just a hint of Moorish elements. La Alhambra was just that, a glimpse into España through these lenses, with palm trees lumbering about. When we visited, it was a beautiful day, with the sun grazing our backs comfortably and a warm breeze lifting the palm branches. Walking through the Alhambra was like breathtaking, details etched in every nook and cranny, including the ceiling, the wall, and sometimes even the floor. Elaborate, fountains and open courtyards overruled the plethora of tourists snapping pictures and receiving guided tours. We passed through the Alhambra with many “perdoname!” ‘s, and had the chance to stroll through the gardens. What a beautiful, peaceful, stress-less day.

We planned on taking a trek to Dilar later that day for a horseback ride through the Sierra Nevada region. Little did we know that we had no idea whatsoever how to arrive at that destination. Little did we also know how difficult it would be to talk on the phone with a local to try to understand how to get there. And how little we knew Spanish at that point in time. Let’s just say, after much sprinting around, many exasperated gasps at the speaker on the other end, we were glad to relax that night, knowing that the next morning we would be riding instead of that day.

We had arranged the date and time over the phone when my phone began to ring once more. Now, by this point, I began to associate my phone with a confusing lady and frustrating conversations, that I hesitated to pick it up. I reluctantly answered with the news that we should arrive a little later because it was a holiday. Thank goodness there was nothing more than that. The next morning came, and 11 am found us on the bus to Dilar, our long awaited destination. Once in Dilar, a quaint town just on the outskirts of Granada, we made our way to the stables. There were no crowds. No stores overflowing with cultural merchandise lined the streets, and certainly no camera-handling tourists flocked the road. It was us, and the world. It was beautiful.

The town was nestled between hundreds of acres of clementine orchards, forests, and the most grandiose, the mountains. Every time I saw the mountains, I had an itching desire to take hundreds upon hundreds of pictures because it was just so picturesque. But of course, no amount of pictures can capture its entirety, so we settled for a few pictures here and there. The very story of this semester.

Hmmm…

So…. I’m figuring that you all have been anxious to hear from me. Figured as much. You’ve missed me. Well I don’t blame you. I’ve missed all of you twice as much, if not a little more. So, to get to the point, I should probably begin now. Right here, right now. Here goes…. here goes… ok I should start.
Where to begin… So where did I leave off last time? Ah. We went to Leon. That seems like ages ago. It really was. I’m ancient now, a whole year older than when you heard from me last. (actually, that’s not true since I posted the last post when we returned, so I was ancient even then). Anyhow, so we visited the towns of Leon, Asturgo, Burgos, Zaragoza in the period of five days. It was very guay, to say the least.
So, Leon is a cute little roman-founded town, in the middle of a ginormous mountain range. We spent oh, say seven, eight hours on the bus, minus an hour break for lunch. So we arrived and all, and were shown around the town a bit where there was a religious procession with a marching band all in uniform and several hefty men shouldering a model of Jesus on the cross. There were several more processions to come after that, all with Jesus at a different position.
A little later, we found ourselves at a tapas bar where the majority of our table got croquettas, which were breaded meats and cheeses. They were delicious. For the most part.
The next day, bright and early, we began our series of lectures. Now, here’s an interesting tidbit of information. Up until this point, most of us had thought our professor was kinda boring, and hard to understand. But that was until we found out that he was actual a pretty famous artist/novelist (I think he’s a novelist too, someone correct me if I’m wrong) in his hometown Leon. One of the graffiti on the wall read “Gustavo (our prof.) is the best.” Claro, because he even has a street named after him. Oh yeah, that’s right. I got a picture with him on my birthday. Be jealous.
Continuing on, tangent free, we spent the trip taking notes, and walking throughout Leon. One thing that was cool to learn, was that throughout Castilla y Leon, the tapas were endless. I mean, all you’d have to do was buy a drink, and the steaming tapas would come out directly after. Unfortunately, I only had this happen to me at one of the restaurants, because I’m just lucky like that. Even the tapas that we had there were very “Americanized”, simple ones that the waiter thought we could handle. All the other tables got these very elaborate, cheesy-looking-authentic-hot tapas. Not. Cool.
On the subject of being the stereotyped Americans, we were highly embarrassed one time at the restaurant named (you guessed it) “The Mafia”. It was my 21st birthday, (and no, I did not drink, though I know some of you wish that I had), and of course, I couldn’t decide where to eat. We finally met up with a few of our classmates who recommended it to us. It was a fancy, Italian restaurant, though they warned it would be a little pricy. We sat down outside, and remember, this was after we got those easy-does-it-American tapas, so it was a bit late, around 10 (which, you would think would be typical time for Spanish to eat, but we still weren’t used to this schedule quite yet. I’m still not used to it. Now that you mention it, I could go for a few tapas right now…). We sat next to a Spanish couple who were both smoking, and had a small perro on a leash which kept leaping onto their laps. We had to restrain ourselves from kidnapping it.
So we sat down there, right? And we were waiting for our waiter to come. At first, we were wondering if we had been seen, but finally, he arrived. Speaking in English of course. We got our menus, and ordered drinks, then spent a while looking over the abundant supply of food, written out in Spanish, on the atlas-sized menus. One of ours noticed a pretty good deal, but after much questioning, we learned it was the kids menu. Silly mistake, right? We then realized our advantage in this scheme, and decided to play dumb, and order it, even though it clearly said “must be 10 and younger”, though in Spanish. The waiter returned, and we all confidently ordered the exact same thing. When he collected our menus and left, we celebrated our stupendous victory. Or so we thought.
The waiter returned, again, and in faltering English said “Um,- I don’t- think you- can order- this” gesturing to the part in the menu where it said “must be 10 and younger”. We all did a “OOooo ok!” like we had noooo idea that we couldn’t do that and we don’t understand this language at all. Not until the waiter left did we realized that he had given us English menus. Que bueno.
I guess playing dumb was not as easy as we thought. Throughout the rest of the meal we weren’t sure whether we should still continue to address him in English, or practice our Spanish more. When we left, he somehow heard that it was my birthday and he said “Oh, felicidades!” Happy Birthday to me.
It was definitely a day like no other, I’ll give you that. Not only was I sick (like I have been every single birthday), but also we had the opportunity to visit a school and be lectured on how this school has nothing to do with our class, but how we must see it anyway because it is an example of a classical building which we hadn’t seen. Again, que bueno. But, hey how often will I get to celebrate my birthday in a foreign country? And my 21st at that? I guess a perk to the day was getting a picture with Gustavo. And the decently attractive bus driver the next day.
All in all, I think this whole semester abroad is a birthday present. So even though my birthday-day (hmm… is that correct? I can’t speak English anymore…) wasn’t the greatest, the whole year makes up for it. Viva la vida!

Sweet Montjuïc and the Marvelous Mediterranean

Our first weekend in Barcelona. What did we do? Well, since we live about spitting distance from the Mediterranean, we decided to venture there, despite the fact that it was a bit cloudy. But, it didn’t matter since it was pretty hot anyway so it didn’t matter too much.

One thing you should know about this beach, is that it was an “optional bathing suit beach”, so a great number of very confident folk strutted their stuff, topless or bottomless, or both, which is a far cry from the city itself. It’s so ironic that such a city that still follows a somewhat conservative dress code because the influence of the catholic church, would also have a mandatory-cover-everything-beach dress code, but it’s quite the opposite. Perhaps the people get so antsy from having to cover up themselves throughout the city, and this is their time to shine and let loose- or something like that.

Other than the surprising discovery of the optional dress beach, it was for the majority, a good day. We all had our “bocadillos” at a good hour, trying to build up and maintain our stomach’s endurance. Some of them were a good length, like about a $5 foot long (minus the $5) and about ten times better. The bread is rubbed with oil and tomato, and contains some type of meat, like churrizo or cured ham, and cheese. One of my friends in the group after a mouthful admitted “I would pay for these” cause they’re just that good. And I would have to agree. I would say that we are kinda getting them for free, but then I remember we did pay for everything with the tuition. I’ll take it though.

We stayed there for most of the afternoon. Ok, let me correct that; for most of the day, til around 6:30. Other people in our group broke off to leave a little earlier, but the group I was with decided to stay later, since we don’t really eat until 9 pm anyway. A friend and I decided to walk back, seeing if it could take a little less than an hour. Well, it wasn’t, but it was a little more exciting than taking the bus over, which we had done earlier that day to get to the beach. Several vendors parked on the streets, so we had to take a glimpse of those. The vendors sold things from books and masks to old antiques and touristy things, so we had quite a variety to look at.

Later that night, we decided to go to Montjuïc to see the fountains, Placa España and the Arenas, now a shopping mall, in the night. See, earlier that morning, my friend and I went for a run, and I discovered that I lived only a three minutes run away from Placa España, and the Palacio, which is also a museum. The opportunities right outside my front door are endless!

Let’s just say, that the fountains were nothing short of amazing or beautiful (fill in a close synonym for pretty or inspired etc. as you please) with its multiple colors and opera music. Unfortunately, by the time we arrived, the show was almost over. Though fortunately, they have shows every night running every twenty minutes. And fortunately, I actually found out a shortcut to get there in about two minutes. And even more fortunate, is that I will stop using that word… for now. Fortunately, it started to annoy you.

Up the stairs of the Palacio were several cardboard cutouts of basketball players, and there was a huge setup of a basketball court and life-sized pictures of some of the athletes. Don’t worry. I got to stand next to them and get pictures.

We raced up the stairs to the balcony where we were stopped in our tracks. Barcelona was just at our feet, and we could see the Placa España, the columnas of the palacio, the line of fountains on both sides of the street from the Placa to the palacio. Behind us, the several blue spotlights crowned the palacio and a pale yellow glow highlighted it.

The rest of the night, we spent or time exploring a little bit of Montjuïc and figuring out how disorienting cities can be at night. Still, the group helped me find my way back eventually, and all was well in the world.

I wish I could say that this was all that we have been doing; going to the beach, frolicking in Parque Guell, skipping to the fountains of Montjuïc and such. But, ¡Asi es la vida! We’ve had classes too, every day. I believe, we had our first class on Tuesday, the day after we arrived, so we haven’t had our heads completely in the clouds. And tomorrow, (more like today, whoops) we leave for Castilla y Leon, which will be our academic trip. It should be a good break away from the hustle and bustle of the city, even though it hasn’t been that bad. A 13 hour bus ride into the countryside has never sounded so great.

Well, that’s it for now! I won’t be keeping up over the next five days, so you guys will have to hold tight til then. Try not to get too upset. I will be taking pictures (of course) and continuing a journal, that I’ll probably upload to here so you guys can take a peek into my trip. ¡Hasta luego!