Old friends, new places.

A long time ago, my sunday school teacher paired me up to be pen pals with the daughter of her pen pal in Birmingham, England. I'm not exactly sure of the sequence of events anymore, but when I was in 4th grade, I met my pen pal when she came to Arizona for the first time (I can't remember if we were pen pals before meeting or only after). Since then, we saw each other 2 other times (once in high school, and again during college), all being on my home continent. This past weekend, I finally had the privilege of finally seeing her on this side of the Atlantic. Chantal, not in Birmingham anymore, lives in St. Andrews, Scotland after graduating from the University (a university older than when Columbus rediscovered America - still can't really wrap my head around that). So I had the excellent opportunity of actually having a (legit) reason to go to Scotland, a place forever on my bucket list.

Extremely optimistic after my first failed attempt at getting to Scotland (thanks to Eyjafjallajokull), my second attempt was nearly derailed as well thanks to strikes in France that made flying through their airspace minimal. Many flights were cancelled. Fortunately, mine was only delayed 4 hours.

After a bumpy beginning, the rest of the trip couldn't have been more perfect. Seeing Chantal was lovely, and she was the perfect host. The first day when Chantal was at work, I did exploring on my own of St. Andrews and found some peace among the wind in the beautiful botanical gardens.

The next day, we took the train into Edinburgh (and hour from St. Andrews). Edinburgh could be considered the birthplace of Harry Potter (we even ate lunch at the cafe where they claim Rowling wrote on her first napkins), and I could definitely see why:

Edinburgh is, in every single way, enchanting. We visited the castle, pieced at delicious fudge, walked down Royal Mile, drank bowls of hot chocolate, shopped on Princes street, visited the cathedral, and listened to bag pipers in between everything. That night, after returning to St. Andrews, we finished it all off with greasy fish and chips. Perfect.

Sunday, we roamed St. Andrews a bit more. We dawned the red University robes to get into the Castle ruins for free, and thought we would do the traditional pier walk while we had them on (although, we then took them off because we didn't want them, or us, to fly away in the sea breeze). As the weather was really nice, we took a long stroll from the East Sands to the West Sands and then made our way through the Old Course (apparently well known through the golfing world), and before calling it a day, we had to get ice cream at world famous (in St. Andrews) Jannette's. The final send off that night was a homemade roast dinner with a pie and custard that was freshly baked and less than 2 pounds (I couldn't NOT get it!).

Chantal left for work and I left for Edinburgh the next morning, with a hope that the next 8 months wont pass before we get to see each other again (although, 8 months is nothing compared to the years that have passed before!). I ate again at the Harry Potter cafe (it's not actually called that, but in my head that's what it is) and wandered around a bit more before having to sit for the rest of the day. Finally, the trip would not have been complete without a trip on top of the double-decker bus (even if it was the bus to the airport).

I'm already fantasizing about a possible trip back to Scotland, and I hope that she'll be able to make her way down to Malaga too before the year is finished.

Moral of the story: Pen pals rock.

Chantal and I at the Castle overlooking Edinburgh

On My Own

Dad left early this morning. It was sad to see him go because it's always nice to be with family. For me, it also marked the end to the summer. Now, everything else begins.

We got a lot done in the time he was here, but it didn't feel like as much as we could have gotten done, at least on the apartment end (which, I only have myself to blame). But, in the end, I think he got a good sense of Malaga: the Castle, Alcazaba, Cathedral, flea market, the beach, and everywhere in between, also counting the few times we got lost too.

I finally moved into the room where I'll be living the next 8 to 9 month and got everything out of the suitcases. The first night I slept in the room, I woke up with a swollen eye from the worst mosquito bite ever that made me look like the Hunchback until lunchtime. If I believed in omens, that couldn't have been a positive one. Last night (my second night in the room), I got the same devil mosquito bite, this time swelling up my nose to twice it's size, and a third bite between my eyebrows, making for a nice unicorn-sized-lump. Thank goodness I'm not a vain person (ok, not THAT vain). The rest of me is itchy from more normal-sized bites (and the anticipation of them) and has convinced me that until I get the best bug repellant money can buy, I'm keeping the screenless doors closed and the fan on.

And now it's just final preparations of the apartment before I leave for Scotland on Thursday. I'm a bit worried that my body might be thrown into a state of shock from the 20+ drop in degrees. Thank goodness I'm there to really visit a friend and not to do serious tourist activities. I might be looking forward to the weather more if it was actually possible to freeze your butt off. But for now, I'm super excited to see old friends and new places.

The first day

Finally fell back asleep this morning around 5. Woke up at 10. Definitely would have slept longer, except that I knew if I was going to have any chance of finding a rhythm sooner rather than later, I needed to get moving.

At least I wasn't alone. I had to muster Dad from deep slumber as well. But it didn't take him long to get up and ready - the idea of tostada con tomate was enough.

It only needed a short jaunt around the corner to find a cute plaza and some outdoor tables to enjoy our cafes and breakfast. After running back to grab an umbrella (of course I had to get a new one this year as my one from Cordoba was completely obliterated) we did some walking around and ducking under eaves, and eventually going back to the apartment before the sky fell for the second time today. We enjoyed some tasty tapas for lunch under the awnings of one of the more popular places in Malaga while the sky fell for the third time and we watched everyone else in the streets run for cover. On our way back from the supermarket, we accidentally came across my school (not quite as charming as Góngora, but I have higher hopes) and immediately got lost (not a good sign!) and ended up walking directly to the opposite side of town with 5 heavy shopping bags that were ripping at the plastic seams. We eventually found our way back and called it a day in terms of "work." It was pleasantly finished off with delicious white bean and quail stew at another central taberna.

My two closest friends that stayed in Spain through the summer have both asked me since returning (slightly more than 24 hours ago) how it feels. And I've really been trying to figure that out. But it does feel strange - strange at the lack of strangeness. Everything seems quite normal. Granted, I'm in a different city, and having to get used to different stores, food, lingo. But being back in Spain feels quite normal at the moment. And I'm actually really excited to be using Spanish again, despite having to make up for the summer deficit now.

So, as I wasn't particularly excited about another 9 months in Spain before getting here (having to first overcome actually getting here), I can say that I'm now super-duper excited.

Hi Jet Lag. Nice to meet you again.

Oh gosh. Tomorrow's not going to be fun. Up all night with jet lag.

How is it possible that I could sleep for less than 3 hours and not be exhausted enough to fall right back to sleep. Instead I've already been up for nearly another 3 hours. Nothing makes sense, and even less does as time goes by.

I think I'm just excited to start life in a new city, and it's difficult to quell my mind of the list-making of all things to be done and seen.

But still, top of the list is sleep. Must sleep!!

A long-awaited arrival

I woke up at 5:30am California time on September 15. Finally, I get to go to bed at 11:oopm on the 16th, Madrid time (or 2pm California time). That would be 33 hours, with only a few cat naps here and there, whenever we were comfortable enough to take them.

But, it's all paid off. Because now, I am sitting pretty in an equally pretty apartment in the historical center of Malaga. At this moment, I couldn't be more thrilled.

The trip over was rather uneventful, unlike my adventure last year. And I am most grateful. Dad was able to squeeze onto the last remaining seats on the planes coming over (even "having" to sit in first class on the trans-atlantic flight - he more than paid for it in helping me lug my bags around though) and we were able to make all connecting trains and buses and people and even linger over tasty berenjenas con miel in Cordoba.

Upon arriving in Malaga (completing the 27 hour travel time) we met with the father of the landlord who showed us to the place I'll call home for the next 9 months. It's new, furnished, and super cozy and I'm so excited to start the year and meet the other two girls I'll share it with.

Tomorrow, there's not much on the plate for things to do other than an andaluz breakfast, grocery shopping, and meandering about town.

But not before a good, long rest.

Final Countdown (Music included)

Forget 'preparations'. Judgement day has come. Well, tomorrow it will.

The bags are all but zipped shut, and I'm just praying that they're under the weight limit. I don't care so much for paying the extra (which I've been lucky and have always had the really nice and lenient ticketing agent), but mostly because I'd rather not endure a back injury (or be responsible for anyone else's either).

I'm having to leave more behind than I thought, but nothing that I need right away. I'm also taking a lot more that I anticipated. I originally thought that because I had stuff over there, or because I knew exactly what I needed (and, more importantly, didn't need) there would be many things that I would leave behind this year that I had erroneously taken last year. But then, there's all the extras that now I want this year, to make things just slightly more comfy and cozy. And all that more than makes up for what I have decided to keep in Arizona. I'm also eternally and deathly afraid of the cold (thank you Phoenix, Arizona, for making me a complete wimp below 68 degrees), and I tend to overpack the warmth-layers (hence the 8 different sweaters, 5 light jackets, and 3 heavy jackets I've packed. And no. It's NOT too much.)

But if all else fails, I have the back up duffle that can be whipped out in the flash of the eye and be my second carry on. I definitely plan ahead. To a fault.

Most people keep asking and pressing me about how excited I am and must be. To be honest, it's too difficult for me to be excited. For me, prepping for a trip is an endless routine. I feel like I have been making lists and running errands and building boxes for months now, and I'm ready for it all to be done, and it isn't until I'm there. So, I anticipate, that as soon as I drop off my bags in a place where they'll stay for the next 9 months, I can allow myself the joy of being excited.

So tomorrow. 8:55am. I officially begin the next journey and string of adventures. And I hope that anyone that's able to, can find their way to Malaga, Spain and count on having a warm place to stay and an eager tour guide.

Final Preparations

The visa has arrived. It arrived about 3 weeks ago.

The plane ticket is purchased. Did that about 12 hours ago.

I guess that's all I really need, ultimately.

Everyday I run through my mental list of everything I need to do, get done, go, finish, return, buy, save, pack, find, and anything else before I leave for another 10 months.

My mind is partially quelled. After being there this last year, I definitely feel more prepared about what I need and what I can leave behind. That doesn't necessarily mean my bags will be any lighter (I've already bought my yearly supply of PB and other mandatory spices). I also know I have an apartment in Malaga that I'm pretty excited about. I'll be spending significantly more this year on boarding (2/3 to double more!), but that was anticipated (and totally worth it). More than anything, I'm just excited to know I have a place once I'm there, even if it's lacking an oven (This was almost a deal breaker, but decided it might be a good change of pace not to be tempted to bake every day. And besides, there're always toaster ovens for the mandatory baked potato and fish-in-foil.)

And my dad is going to try and come with me. Originally we were both going to non-rev it over, hoping I could get over on employee passes and brutalize the wallet a bit less. But after looking at loads last night (recession what?), we had to face reality and buy a ticket over just to make sure I got there (I WILL make it to Spain and Scotland this month!). Although it was last minute and we probably ended up spending more, we had the foresight to actually buy a round-trip ticket this time, so I have a definite return date in the summer too (and wont have to endure a 3rd round of last-minute transatlantic ticket purchases). Dad's still going to try and come out on the same flight (and with his luck, minus a volcano in the spring, he'll probably make it) so he can help me with the bags (he gets an unlimited allowance!) and we can do a little traveling on the side.

So, all seems well, on track, and (almost) ready to go. Again and again I learn to just breath and there's really no reason to fret. Because everything's going to be just fine and work out beautifully.

But I'm sure I'll be saying this again, the next time I need to panic.

Sidenote: My Exciting September:

3-6 Orlando, Florida with Marina!

10-11 Denver with Dad for Dbacks/Rockies game (and a little Coors on the side)

15- Leave for Spain

24-28- Scotland to see Chantal! You can't get me this time Eyjafjallajokull!