Despedidas y Experiencias Compartidas: Goodbye to Spain

I am watching the sun fade on my last days in Motril, my home town away from home. As always happens at the end of any good period of time, events seem to speed up and condense. Since my spring trip, I have been entirely Andalucian in my travels. In 3 consecutive weekends, I was lucky enough to be able to visit 3 of the region’s important parks. First, in a camping trip with friends to Cabo de Gata in Almeria, a nature preserve that includes kilometers of coastline and some of the most pristine beaches I’ve ever seen. Next was the adventure of a lifetime in the Sierra Nevada, a mere 3 days of backpacking that included washed out trails, trespassing, bushwacking, stray dog companions, camping above the snowline, and hiking several hours in the snow in jeans, khakis, and non-waterproof shoes to summit the highest mountain in continental Spain, Mulhacen. For a fuller and more evocative account, read what Jasmina has to say http://stumblesthroughtime.blogspot.com/2010/05/summiting-mount-mulhacen-with-dog-named.html. Finally, we visited the province of Cadiz on a municipal government-sponsored youth excursion to the Parque Donana and nearby towns.

Time in general has been full and fast lately, with busy workweeks and packed weekends. The Mediterranean climate has finally showed its true colors, and we’ve had no rain for over a month. The rhythm of food, language, and pastimes here has long been just hovering on the edge of my reach, and the past weeks have felt like the final and complete immersion into this place’s life. The cruel irony, as my flatmate and colleague Alisha put it, is that everything always seems to be coming together perfectly right as you’re about to leave. Assuming that that feeling is inevitable, I will say that I am lucky to have had the time I’ve had here, to have shared it with the people I’ve known, to have seen the places and done the activities and lived the experiences and learned the things that have made this year so rich for me.

Returning to the United States from a year working and living and traveling abroad will undoubtedly bring some mild culture shock, as well as the stark realization that I am returning to a world where I am one of many idealistic, worldly, moderately accomplished recent graduates looking for work. A dose of realism awaits me, without a doubt. But first, I get to delay that inevitability with the best remedy for these types of concerns… travel, of course.

I am in currently on a break between two starkly different trips, north and south. I recently finished a 10 day solo exploration of the North of Spain, an area I have long wanted to discover and a different side of Spain from the one I have gotten to know so well here in Andalucia. In Asturias, the cradle of the reconquista and the only zone not influenced by the Moorish empire, I learned to pour cider in the traditional way at a small town fiesta, bottle overhead and the glass tilted a meter below, and hiked in the Picos de Europa with an Asturian hiking club.

In Bilbao, I explored the magical Basque coastline and wandered a city full of incredible architecture. In San Sebastian, I stayed in a pueblo where only Euskera (the language of the Basque Country) was spoken in cafes and plazas, crossed the border into France, and wandered the countryside on trails through deep green mountain forests that surely are sisters to my Blue Ridge. Both Basque Country and Asturias enchanted with their distinct traditions, history, and attitudes. The Basques, especially, surprised me with their political passion and antipathy towards the Spanish state, which even after over 600 years of integration they still see as an oppressor. A really inspiring and eye-opening journey for a lone traveller, full of good people and beautiful places and many new things.

Now I am ordering my affairs and saying goodbye to the friends and town of Motril, my home this year. Very soon, I am heading to Morocco again. This time, on a 10 day road trip that will have me packed in an old land rover along with Jasmina, a Belgian farmer, 2 Spaniards, and a Swiss student. I cannot even begin to imagine what that trip will have in store, but it is certain to be interesting. From there, the journey home, greater in its significance even than in its long distance.

I appreciate anyone and everyone who has kept up with me this year, via photos or my blog or emails. It has been an important 9 months for me, containing a lifetime’s worth of living in some ways. So, thank you all and I look forward to our next conversation in person. Best wishes, Andrew.

The Travel Blog (vol. 1)

My blog promises, in addition to my rambling opinion writing, some accounts of the travel I undertake while I am here. So, I present the following...

One of the perks of my job is the time commitment. Not only is the program a manageable 8 months, but the hours are light and all contained in a four day work week. So, I go to school Monday through Thursday, teaching until 2 each day and tutoring later in the afternoon to fill time and make money for travel. Coincidentally, free Fridays make every weekend a long one, a potential foundation for a trip of some moderate variety. Many of these weekend trips are regional jaunts to some Andalucían city or other. If you were to pinpoint my location on a map (Motril, Spain), you would notice several things about its geographical situation, including: 1. It is on the Mediterranean Sea (which I can see from my balcony and bedroom window) and 2. It is situated at the base of the Sierra Nevada range, which contains continental Spain’s highest mountain (in the course of an afternoon jog, I can look down on the sunny Mediterranean and a few strides later look up at snow-capped peaks).

In addition to its interesting physical geography, Motril is also well-situated relative to other cities. The closest, and the capital of the province, is Granada. I’ve visited Granada a handful of times, for single days as well as whole weekends, and have really enjoyed the contrast of its international cosmopolitan feel with Motril’s small-town ambiance. Granada has one of Spain’s biggest and oldest universities, with a huge student presence and youthful energy to match. The city’s cultural significance, as the last Moorish stronghold in Spain and the home of the famed Alhambra, combines with its physical beauty to make it a highly-touristed place as well as a haven for Spain’s counterculture. Simultaneously Bohemian, hippy, and traditional, Granada is a melting pot of historical and contemporary cultures, and a fascinating place to have only an hour to the north. My other frequented destination is the port city of Malaga, the southern coast’s biggest. My girlfriend Jasmina lives there, teaching, which is reason enough to visit, but the city also has some appeal in and of itself. Thoroughly modern, Malaga is one of the tourism and fashion capitals of Spain. The hometown of Picasso, Malaga now boasts its own Picasso museum, the centerpiece of a robust arts and cultural scene. Other destinations in Andalucia have included a school field trip to the Sierra Nevada and a day trip to the British enclave and rock of Gibraltar (full of monkeys, see pictures for a thousand words).

There have also been more ambitious travels. The first, in early October, was a 5 day jaunt to Portugal. Taking advantage of an especially long weekend, I rented a car and drove across the Peninsula with some friends, enjoying the Iberian countryside and the nice roads as we zipped along. Our first stop was the beach town of Lagos, on Portugal’s southern coast, home to the cliff-backed beaches, grottoes, and bluffs that characterize the Algarve region. We even made it to the town of Sagres, perched on the Southwestern-most tip of the European continent, and once thought to be the end of the world. Continuing our four-wheeled adventure, I drove up the coast to Lisbon, where we navigated through what was easily the most challenging traffic and streets I have ever encountered (imagine New York City drivers in European streets). But we were able to enjoy the magic of the Portuguese capital, the most underrated in Europe. Colored stone buildings and cobble-stoned streets, combined with trolley cars climbing hills that look out over the broad Tajo River, made Lisbon feel like a cross between San Francisco and Madrid. Getting by on a mix of our Spanish and the limited Portuguese of our Africa-bound visitor Andrew Magill, we were able to deeply and fully enjoy the charming beauty and excitement of Spain’s closest neighbor.

Coming very soon... Morocco