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Published: April 13th 2011
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With my hiking days behind me I set my sites on a week of exploring Spain. With the arrival of an old friend, Claire, I decided that Spain by foot was an irreplaceable experience, which I enjoyed to the fullest, but it was time to embrace modernity. We opted for the high-speed rail, bus, and metro to do our exploring.
I met Claire in Madrid where I had already booked a hostel for the night. If Claire was not completely aware of the circumstances of our travel she was brutally introduced when she saw "Pop Hostel". On the advice of a fellow hiker I booked this hostel without knowing that it lacked hot water and was situated between a chinese dollar store and a strange smelling fish market. Claire took the realities of my economy travel in stride and we found a more appropriate hostel the following nights. Outside of our shanty we made our way through the gardens, museums, and malls of Madrid. The massive city kept us continually surprised and appreciative of its small neighborhoods and unique burroughs. Our immersion into Madrid was topped off by a Flamenco show in a small side-bar tucked behind one of Spain´s
sprawling parks. Three colorful Spanish dancers accompanied by four musicians and singers took the stage of the dim-lit bar for over an hour. We watched amazed as the group stomped, danced, and sang with an intensity as fiery as the red dresses and as dark as their jet-black hair.
After my prolonged escape from urban turmoil the interlude in Madrid was nice but we decided a change of pace was necessary. On a whim we decided that Seville should be our next destination. We arrived into Seville in the afternoon with no plan and no idea what the city offered. I will acknowledge our complete lack of geographic knowledge and grudgingly admit that Claire and I both had to look at a map to see exactly where Sevilla was located. Unlike Madrid, Seville was Spanish to its core. The pace of life reverted to a simple stroll and the siestas and fiestas seemed to be savored with appreciation. We spent two nights in a nice hostel and were able to hit all the hotspots of Seville. The massive Cathedral had quite an expansive and impressive interior but it did not match the view Claire and I got from a
local roof-top bar. With some quick research we found a local bar that overlooked the Cathedral. With american greats like Otis Redding and the Righteous Brothers playing in the background, we sat and drank wine enjoying the warm weather of Seville with the gothic cathedral framing the background.
Within two days we decided that the beaches of Spain were calling. We hopped a bus to Punta Umbria. Again, we weren´t sure where Punta Umbria was but we hopped a bus, rode a couple hours, and jumped off looking at the vast Atlantic. We found a youth hostel, booked a room, and then headed straight for the beach. Between the seafood and the beers we failed to notice the heat of the sun and both ended up burned, but it was worth it. After a good 24 hours of beach we decided to hit an overnight bus ride back to Madrid. Terrible Idea. The bus ride was long, bumpy, and smelly, but we made it into Madrid at 6:00 in the morning. With only a brief siesta interlude, we spent the entire last day exploring the side-streets of Madrid. The crude abruptness of reality sat in as Claire packed her things and jumped her plane back to Boston. Vacations can´t last forever but I was quite proud of the unnappologetic way we tackled the cities and towns of Spain. From coast to capital, Claire and I were able to see and experience much of what I have come to appreciate about Spain and their culture.
My last week was a fantastic cap to what has been one hell of a trip. I am headed back to Pamplona soon where I catch my flight back to the states. I am eager to return to family and friends but am sure that the imprint of the Spanish countryside will be a lasting memory I can recall reverently in the interesting times that are ahead.
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