Farewell Sevilla, welcome to the cobbles of Granada!

I don´t know where to start! I wrote to you last of our escapades in Sevilla but what I did not get to write to you about was our fabulous last evening! Lets go chronologically...

Our farewell Sevilla dinner was consumed in a little bar in a backstreet Plaza (do not pronouce the ´z´as ´z´but as a ´th´/lisp) around the corner from our hostel. We were ´forced´to consume a few bicchiere (glasses ) of Tinto de Verano and beer before the kitchen opened at 8:30pm. The little bar was packed full of crazy locals who were not afraid of demanding (loudly) their orders above our heads. We worked out pretty quickly that the staff were not just going to give you their attentions, so after a short while of observing I learnt the art of domandare and quickly received a remark of ¨perfetto¨from the seemingly humourless waiter!

A list of food ordered and devoured:

• Patatas Bravas x2 (Potato wedges with a yummy orange sauce)
• Tortilla con shrimp
• Corquetta´s (essentially deep fried spinach)
• And Chicken pieces in an almond sauce

With a few Tinto under my belt I half tripped, half giggled my way out the door! Map in hand (JJ´s, not mine, I was too happy to concentrate) we navigated our way through a random compilation of streets that lead us to a very remote corner of the city where nothing was to be found but a little bar with a gorgeously warm open log fire. We managed to disentangle ourselves from the warmth, slide through the crowds and into a large ¨beer hall¨ with long rows of tables and wooden benches. When we arrived, the room was mildly filled with locals listening to a traditional Spanish band which included two classical guitars played by sombre men, an accordian held by a red faced jolly grandfather, a double bass strummed by a head bobbing gentleman, a drummer with a drumkit and a face for expressions, and an enormously enthusiastic singer/tamborine man. Their reportoire included a number of tunes that the locals sung along to, thus making the atmosphere particularly warm and fuzzy.

Once they finished they exited stage left and a Flamenco dancer, a soulful wailer and a classical guitarist arrived to introduce themselves. They were, what I consider, typically Spanish looking; dark skin, ink black hair and deep black eyes. The flamenco lasted half an hour and had me entranced the entire time. It was a truly fabulous evening!

The next day brought us to Granada and a slightly kooky guesthouse which was run by a mildly insane spanish lady. She, Raquelle, insisted that we provided a two hour window for our arrival so that she could make sure she would be at the guesthouse at that time to let us in. We walked for a good twenty minutes in the pouring rain and freezing temperatures before locating La Casa Maria, we then found ourselves thumping on the door for a further fifteen minutes, still standing in said rain. Raquelle had decided to go out for a ¨potter¨around the shops rather than wait for us! Another fabulous tale!

Granada is a really unique and characterful place. It is a mountain town nestled at the foot of the snow clad Sierra Nevada. The houses are typically beautiful and the streets are cobbled in a delicious white grey marble. The city´s Arabic past lends a certain charm also, like the towering Moorish/muslim fortress, The Alhambra, which is set high on the hill and looms its protective embrace over the city. We woke at 6:30am and stood in the freezing cold for two hours so that we could have the privilage of visiting this historical magnificance. I was wearing a thousand layers (no exaggeration) of clothing to keep warm against the blistering cold. Despite that though we were estactic to get two tickets, which are a rare commodity apparently. The Alhambra is a suberb example of what the human race is capable of constructing in the name of religion and monarchy. We spent almost four hours exploring the lavish gardens, extensive walls and elaborate palacios and courtyards. It was a great piece of living history.

The remainder of our time in Granada was spent enjoying the free Tapas that come with every drink purchased. We had a wonderful guide, an old Uni friend of mine who now lives in Granada . The tapas is such a great way to enjoy socialising whilst consuming great food at the same time! Thanks to Jane, we got to experience some of the best of Granada´s Tapas. Thanks Jane (thanks also for dragging us up the hill of Sacromonte to see the gypsy caves and the wonderful view!!)!

Onwards and upwards again, we are now in Tarifa, a city where you can literally smell the scents of Africa. Across the sparkling Atlantic waters Africa looms, waiting to shock us with her frantic culture and seductive appeal...

¨Travelling is almost like talking with those of other centuries¨ Rene Descartes

Faro...and onwards to Sevilla...

Oh, I have some disappointing news for you...I have no hiccups to report! What will I write about! Well, I could write about how inconsiderate hostel roomies can be, but then we have all had experience with this...Or I could write about how every new friend we have made on the road has a name that starts with "m", but, what do you care?

I could write to you about how I was disappointed with our last Portuguese stop, Faro. It was described in particularly good favour as a town with atmosphere and character. The engagement of the word "town" was accurate as it was certainly small enough to be branded as one, "atmosphere" I think was lacking thanks to the Easter weekend hibernation of all the local and tourist population, and "character" I think was a definite stretch of the imagination. But the stay was not entirely wasted, we had a private room, so we used the time to recoup...without the disruption of the afore mentioned roomies!

Portugal was a lovely surprise for me in the sense that the people were all so helpful and friendly. I was anticipating a lot of difficulty in communicating, knowing that my awkward Italian skills would not get me through our Portugal travels. Thanks to the poverty though, the majority of the population have learnt English as a way to move up and out. So we said our fond goodbyes to the homely Portugal, climbed aboard our bus and travelled back across the border to Spain. So, on Easter Sunday while you were all searching for chocolate eggs in the garden we were on a long bus trip headed for Sevilla.

We arrived in this sunny city at 2pm and immediately raced out the door down to a nearby church as we had heard that we would be able to catch the remnants of the Easter Sunday parade. Unfortunately we were too late for the procession but we did get to absorb ourselves in the festival atmosphere and watch the children all in their Sunday best; the girls all wearing gorgeous 1930s dresses, tiny cardigans and coats, thick colourful stockings, Mary Jane shoes and massive bows in their hair, it is like walking back in time! The boys outfits I am not so sure about, it could almost be considered cruelty to children... leather sandals, socks pulled to the knees, tailored short shorts, tucked in shirts, ties and cardigans...obviously not keen to encourage masculinity, mini metro's!

Aw, the bells just rang 5pm, they call this place the city of churches and they're not half wrong! There are dozens of them! We went to explore the massive cathedral on the first day of our arrival and then pushed on to the Alacazar, an old moorish castle that was a fascinating mix of Spanish and Arabic styles. It was really rather beautiful!

We are starting to become absorbed by the late night culture of Spain, we have noticed that we are naturally managing to eat later and later every night. On Sunday we went for Tapas at 10pm, we are normally found in bed at 9pm, so this is a major break through for us! Tapas was a little highlight for me, we went to a locals bar where the owner took a particular liking to me, he was a little cartoon of a man, small in stature, he had missing teeth, the rest were bucked, his skin told a thousand stories through his wrinkles, his eyes were wide in excitement and his brows were glued high on his forehead! He thought my "Spanish" skills were good...but obviously not that good, he babied me through the process and did not make me join the self service line!

Oh, what a long entry! I have one last note to make before I give up on this damned keyboard and allow you all to return to your lives! We visited the Bull fighting stadium yesterday, I was unsure what the "sport" entailed but what I found out disgusted me! I am unsure why this "sport" still exists! Who can enjoy watching a bull killed so inhumanely? Honestly I am devastated that it is still an authorized activity, the poor bull has to endure six spears before the Matador has the decency to put it out of its misery! It is such a primitive occupation, the Spanish who engage in this should be entirely ashamed of themselves!

One last note, I have a new Favorite drink: Tinto de Verano, it is very similar to Sangeria but it is sweeter and much easier to consume! I advise you try it next time you are in Spain!

Cheerio! And love to all!

New ports and news hiccups...

Shall I start with the hiccups again? Then perhaps we will be done with them for the remainder of the trip, or, perhaps that is all too wishful. Actually, honestly, I am not sure I want our hiccups to go away. Despite their annoying quality of ruining plans, they do manage to make themselves just a little useful as they morph into wonderful stories to tell.

Our introduction to this interesting city, Lisbon (Portugal for those of you not inclined towards a sense of natural geography), was not a bump free journey. We were tired, thanks to the over night train that we took from Madrid, and tiredness is not conducive to managing unfortunate situations well. The train took ten hours, eight of which we were tied up in our dreams. We have found a magic pill that is all natural but helps you to zonk out as soon as your lids close over your eyes. So the train trip was not a bump in the road until a helpful stranger offered us the wrong information that saw us exiting the train a stop too early. Still not a big bump, we found the metro and a friend and rode it (the metro, not the friend) until we arrived at our destination. Alighting we heaved our heavy packs on our backs and began the steep ascent that led to our hostel. Imagine the hills and the trams of San Fransisco and you have an idea of the hills of Lisbon. So, up the hill we walked. And walked and walked until we found a quaint little hostel like the one we had seen in the pictures. We were thrilled to have arrived and to find that the hostel was so close to the centre of town!

I am now going to make an anti-Ad-
Never book a hostel through hostel bookers

We booked through them, they took our deposit, sent us our confirmation email, which we printed and showed the non-English speaking receptionist. She looked bewildered momentarily, muttered to us in Portuguese, shook her head and then pointed to a computer screen that did not include our names on the reservation list. We had been double booked! Not a huge deal normally but it is currently spring break over here (and in America) which means hostels are all fully booked!

Thank fully the receptionist cared enough about our predicament to ring around other hostels to see if they would take us in out of the cold (and boy is this city cold!!!). The god of luck had obviously woken on the right side of the bed as a hostel was found that had just had a cancellation not five minutes earlier! Whoopee! Or not so...the receptionist wrote down a few very nondescript directions and sent us on our way. We asked for a map, but alas she had run out of maps!

Mapless, tired and 100% fed up we set out to locate the new hostel. It all started badly when we hopped on the wrong tram, which took us 15 minutes up the road before we re-asked, alighted and turned to catch a tram back down the very steep hill from which we had come. We found the correct tram but did not find the correct stop ( thanks again to a helpful stranger who directed us to alight) which left us a 2km hike up a hill before we reached a little plaza full of quaint shops, but I do not have time to describe these shops to you just now...remember, I am fed up! So, we arrived at said plaza where we located the correct stop, but this is where the directions finish excepting a brief mention of stairs that we would need to find. We saw multiple sets of stairs in the plaza by the time we completed our 360 tour and were left feeling somewhat deflated by the thought of NEVER locating the hostel...or at least I was feeling deflated, the wonderful boyfriend was still acting as my worthy knight (I am not sure where his energy was coming from!). At this point the god of luck had obviously awoken, eaten and was ready to hand us more of his good fortune.

Are you looking for Jonnie´s Guesthouse? We heard a swedish voice dodging its way through the packed plaza. She was Jonnies mother, sent down to locate two lost looking travelers.

Everything from that point on has been marvelous and the hostel has been a real gem of a find! We spent our first two days eating pastries and exploring the many nooks of the city, we have no time to feel guilty about the pastries, thanks to the wonderfully steep cobbled hills that paint the city. We spent one magical day in a fairytale village called Sintra where we climbed 6km to the top of a mountain to walk through the ruins of an 11th century castle. We were enthralled by the condition of the castle, which you can truly imagine being used all those years ago. It was like walking through the set of Robin hood with the medieval castle, forest and beautiful natural springs (where we filled our water bottles with the sweet ´nectar´).

We have been surprised by the way the wind cuts a path through our layers of clothes and finds a way to bite at our skin. It has been a constant game of tag, we pile on layers against the wind and then the sun comes out and warms us beyond the need for layers, so we remove them, and welcome back wind! It has been all fun and games with the weather of Lisbon.

The most important note is that we are happy travelers managing to experience all the ups and downs that we have been waiting for.

"Half the fun of the travel is the esthetic of lostness". ~Ray Bradbury

Leaving, Arriving and Hiccups...

Well, my dear friends, it seems that I find myself on the road once again. It felt odd and not entirely real to begin with. It was only in the moments of my tearful goodbyes to my parents that it began to feel as though it was all happening. I think the oddness in feeling that I experienced was thanks to my general happiness in my own country and general state of being, it feels strange to be leaving when every aspect of my home life is so fine and dandy. Despite all that I am happy to be a young and carefree traveller again, although, typical of Kit travels, it has not been without a few minor hiccups...

The two most ¨Kit¨ hiccups share the word ´pass´. The first of the passes includes a fallen and consequently momentarily lost passport. Jonathan had been the sole carer of my passport before arriving in the Mother Land, upon arriving he thought that I (being an adult)would be responsible enough to take care of my own identity. He was wrong. The passport slipped from my lap onto the floor without my knowledge, I walked off the plane, walked halfway towards customs before panic, in the form of a swift metaphorical slap, hit me clean across the cheek. I ditched Jonathan´s look of confusion and disbelief and sprinted back towards our A380. Thankfully the passport was dutifully waiting where it had been left.

Hiccup number one complete.

Trouble number two involved Kit being removed from the train in Madrid, pale as a ghost and as dizzy as though I had been around a roundabout several times. I came particularly close to my friend fainting in that moment on the train, luckily we escaped the confines of the train before I keeled over on all unsuspecting Spainards!

I promised there would be a hint of drama, and there you have it!

The motion of the following few days has been smooth. Madrid is a masterpiece of architecture and gardens. The Madridian people are very friendly, two inhabitants in particular have been wonderful company! I have two friends who took us out for a Sangreia haze of a night in a marvelous place called The Cave. We had a fabulous time being smothered by the attentions of surrounding Spanairds when they (the girls) took a fancy to my boyfriend...he quickly fell into the position of celebrity, he did so with such ease that I am beginning to wonder if I could make some money from his star quality!

The days in general have seen us lolling about in gardens and palaces, the nights have filled us with sangreia and tapas...despite the initial difficulty in ordering these items.

We spent Saturday in a fascinating walled town called Toledo, a medieval village which has been frozen in time and now we are preparing to check out of our hostel and take the overnight train to Lisbon, Portugal. It has been a wonderful reintroduction to the world of traveling, thanks for following us.

Love to all of you!