Un día normal…

Yesterday I had a very random day. Class was from 10-1, which is half the hours that I have had since I’ve been here since I am the only person in class. Individual lessons are half the amount of time than normal ones, so 2.5 hours instead of 5. Lovely. So I came home from class and enjoyed a hot meal with my roommates, which never happens because they eat around 2pm and I don’t get home till just before three. So, not only do I not get to enjoy their company but the food is not warm either. After lunch we all started packing. Adam and Andrew head back to Boston on Saturday. They have to meet their group at 3am…lucky them. Phil is hanging around for a few more weeks then going traveling with a friend of his. I decided I would try and pack just to see how bad the situation actually is. Well folks, it ain’t lookin’ pretty. I have far more stuff than I have space for. I blame that on my shopping habits and the fact that vacuums do not seem to exist in Spain, so it’s not entirely my fault. I packed very well using Space Bags; removing the air and reducing the side of the bag by at least half. So, without any air sucking device I am left with normal, regular packing. We’ll see how this pans out.

So after a depressing packing session I decided to indulge in a siesta. Partially because I was tired and partially because “When in Rome…” I was awakened from my siesta at 5pm by a friend of mine, Christian, who beckoned me to come to his house asap because we were to go on an ‘adventure’. Now, my parents are probably laughing because they think I’m not the adventurous type. This is true, in the traditional sense of the word. No, slashing around through a jungle with mud up to my knees and insects feasting on my sweating body is not my idea of a good time. My parents seem fond of this ‘hiking’ nonsense whereas I would rather read a book. Outside if I must. But, in a different sense, I am usually up for an adventure. Move to Spain for three months with little knowledge of the language. Live in France for a year and hitchhike to school when the public transportation goes on strike. Its not for everyone, but this niche of ‘adventure’ I am quite fond of.

So, I dragged myself out of my uncomfortable bed and put some shoes on and headed for Christian’s apartment. We met up with our friend, Michal, and embarked on our adventure. The adventure was still a surprise for me. Then we got to the bus station and He had to tell us what we were in for. Christian has been looking for jobs teaching English in Granada the past week or so and apparently he dropped his CV off at this school in the middle of nowhere, a suburb of Granada if you will. And on the way to this school the bus ‘went uphill’ to quote him, and he decided that it was in his naturally inquisitive nature to see what was at the end of the line. Michal and I were the lucky ones chosen to accompany him on this quest. We boarded the bus, got off the bus, dropped off the CV, boarded the bus [again] and road the bus for a little longer. Then the bus made a U turn and pulled off to the side of the road onto a paved bit in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere. Everyone else got off the bus, and then the bus driver turned the bus off. We decided we should get off there as well and did so.

We were in the middle of nowhere. The street we had been on led to a village looking place, and looking back from where we came there were some houses on the side of the road a ways up. But we were, as far as we could tell, in the middle of nowhere. Next to an enormous fence that was clearly built to keep its habitants in or keep us out. I wasn’t really sure that I wanted to find out if it was the former or the latter of the two. We decided to walk to the ‘town’ where Christian had dropped off his CV and catch a bus there. Since we had been going uphill for quite a ways the return walk was all downhill and the view of Granada was spectacular. The sun had set and the sky was dark with a few hints of color here and there. So, when life gives you lemons… take pictures of the city and make the best of your predicament.

We made it to a bus stop about 15 minutes down the hill. Got on the next bus and headed back to civiliza- Granada. On the bus Michal got a phone call. A friend of ours had extra tickets for wine tasting and wanted to know if we wanted to join them. We decided that it was not a bad idea and continued to the center of the city. We met up with the group in front of some swank 5 star hotel. Turns out the wine tasting was in the hotel, so we entered, and started to follow the signs when the receptionist arrogantly asked us what we were doing there and if he could help us. We waved the tickets and he reluctantly pointed us in the right direction.


Our motley crew sported everything from unkempt facial hair to beanies [winter hats], sneakers to boots. We were in no way shape or form dressed for wine tasting in a 5 star establishment. We entered the room and were, once again, stopped by someone who worked there and once again they begrudgingly allowed us to enter. I am a fan of red wine, and this was some of the best wine I have ever tasted in my life. They had everything, from fruity to dry, from earthy to berry. It was phenomenal. We spent over an hour getting dirty looks and draining wine from our crystal glasses.
Occasionally we would encounter someone who was a good sport and wanted to share his love of wine with is. We learned about the aging process and that the wood the barrel is made of is just as important as the grapes. For it to be a Spanish wine the grapes can come from Spain, but the wood the import from France or Ireland or wherever else they please. Also, they can take barrels that have been used to age whiskey or scotch or other liquors and use them later to age wine to give it a different flavor. Interesting.

After our wine tasting we were quite hungry so we went out for tapas. Who would have thought that a [failed] adventure to the end of Bus Line 9 would have resulted in wine tasting at a 5 star hotel?
A day in the life…always an adventure…