T-Minus 20 Days and Counting

Wait, what do you mean I'm leaving in 20 days? That can't be right.

I JUST GOT HERE. Cue ugly crying.

The next 3 weeks are going to be a whirlwind. Not only do I have to undo all my accomplishments (close out my bank account, shut off my internet service, move out of my first grown-up apartment) but I also have to say goodbye to my friends and the city itself. It's gonna be rough.

So, what am I going to miss about Sevilla? Besides everything, of course.

1. The Atmosphere

Life here is so relaxed. No one's in a hurry, no one feels pressured to do anything. Shops close down for 3 whole hours in the middle of the afternoon, for goodness sake. And no one (besides me) complains!

It really is just a slower way of life. A lot of people say that coming to Sevilla is like stepping back in time. There are so many pieces of life here untouched by time. People go out every night and have a beer with their friends and their family, spending hours at the bar with no worries or cares. Children run around with minimal supervision, playing with their neighborhood friends. It's a nice step back from the busy life of a city back in the States.

2. The Food (aka why this is really a food blog)

Whoever invented the concept of tapas was basically a genius. First of all, if you ever meet anyone who won't share their food with you, you need to run away from them as quickly as possible. Second of all, how else can you have 4-5 dishes in one meal and never pay more than 10-12 euro?

It's not only restaurant food I'm going to miss, either. The produce here is so. stinkin. cheap. 2 pounds of zucchini for 1 euro. 2 pounds of carrots for 59 cents. A pound of strawberries for 79 cents. A pound of peaches for a euro. What is life?!? I've been in fruit and veg heaven for months.

3. The Weather.

Who says a pasty girl can't enjoy the sunshine? I'm pretty sure it has rained a grand total of maybe 6 times since I've been here. That could be slightly under-exaggerated, but not much. Add that to the fact that it doesn't snow, never freezes, and the sun shines till about 9 pm every day? Heaven.

I came just in time to avoid a record-breaking snowy winter in Boston, and couldn't be more grateful. Now, I just have to keep that in mind when I'm melting in the Sevilla heat over the next few weeks.

4. My neighborhood

There are 3 grocery stores within a 5 minute walk from my apartment. There's a book store and a fruit stand right around the corner, a pharmacy, three churches, 2 clothing stores, probably a dozen bars and, of course, who can forget the Thursday morning flea market?

I live in possibly one of the coolest neighborhoods in Sevilla. The area is young, there's a lot going on, it's a great mix of bars and shops and markets. It has really come to be my home. After a lot of exploring, getting lost, and finding my way, this is where I live. It's my area.

There may not be a Starbucks on every street corner, but I can deal with that.

5. The People.

Okay, yes, I cheated. All of my friends speak English. Sorry!

That doesn't make them any less amazing. To the friends who will eat an entire pizza with me, go on adventures with me, call the delivery guy for me when I forgot to give them my apartment number...it's been great.

I've learned so much from them, from my job, from just being here that I can't believe it's only been 5 months.

It's going to be a busy last 20 days, so get ready!

Because she always knows just what to say, in the words of Sarah Kay, "This isn't my last time here. These aren't the last words I'll share. But just in case, I'm trying my hardest to get it right this time around."

Feria Photo Blog

 The flower bigger than my face.

 Headed for Feria!

 But first, let us take a selfie.

We made it!

 The decorations were amazing.

Look at all these girls in traditional dresses!

And us?...not so much!

Easter in Lagos

Easter abroad, and what's a girl to do? Head for the beach!

Welcome to Lagos, an adorable little tourist town in the South of Portugal. Everyone was so friendly; most of the shop/restaurant workers were either British or Australian (or had really convincing accents), and I spoke more English there in one weekend than I have since I left for Spain.

The scenery was beautiful;

casual door to nowhere

I took lots of fabulous selfies;

And ate loads of delicious food:

In Spain, waiters and waitresses are very laid back. They don't bother you - in fact, they won't stop by your table unless they've either got your food, or you flag them down (which can sometimes take a lot of effort). It was a nice change to have people in Lagos be really attentive and chatty. Everyone wanted to know where I was from, make suggestions of where to go and what to eat and see, and just be super friendly and welcoming.

I made some cool friends in the hostel I was staying at - friends in the sense of we will probably never meet again, but had a great time together exploring the little town's nightlife. 

But the best part of the trip was the countless relaxing hours I spent laying on the beach reading from my tablet.

Book Recommendations: 

What Alice Forgot, Liane Moriarty

Silent Scream, Angela Marsons
Reconstructing Amelia, Kimberly McCreight

Dark Places, Gillian Flynn

Next Post: Day trip to Ronda!

Semana Santa!

(aka let's pretend this isn't the first time I've blogged in over a month.)

Semana Santa, or Holy Week, the week leading up to Easter is a crazy celebration of history, culture, and religion.  It's a tradition that is hundreds of years old and that has been celebrated by generations upon generations of people all over Europe - but Sevilla in particular.

Thousands upon thousands of people from the countryside, from throughout Spain and all over the world flocked to Sevilla for one week to see the infamous pasos and nazarenes fill the street.

Ready to take in some culture, I got up on the first day, threw on a dress (if you're not dressed to impress during Semana Santa, do not leave your house) and went out to see the city in full swing.

First I had to escape my own street. Ready to go!

After meeting a friend, we started by walking down to Plaza Espana, one of the more famous (read: touristy) areas of the city to see one of the first pasos of the week go by. Half the nazarenes were children without their hoods on, so I didn't take too many pictures.

Can you imagine carrying one of those crosses for over 6 hours while you march through the streets? At least these guys don't have to wear the pointy cones on their heads.

We followed this paso as they moved at a snail's pace out of the park and into the square nearby, to get great pictures of these guys in the sunlight:

#squadgoals

How gorgeous? And under each of these statues there is a group of men sweating to death under a velvet cloth, carrying 80 pounds of weight each. We had seen the men practicing weeks prior without the actual statues on top or the velvet cloth, and it was an interesting sight to see.

Once this paso had dispersed we walked over to Triana, where we knew a co-worker was going to be coming by in his robes soon. But first, pizza break:

Look at all those pointy hats! It was so hot out, we were sweating and couldn't imagine how they felt. We kept saying to each other, Why would anyone do this? Why would anyone pay to wear a velvet outfit and walk for 8+ hours in this heat?

But it's tradition. For example, in this brotherhood you have to know 2 people or be "recommended" to join by 2 people already in the brotherhood in order to join. While they are connected to churches, it is mainly due to family tradition that people continue to join. Besides, who wouldn't feel like a celebrity when they see that thousands of people have lined up to watch them pass (even if their faces are covered...).

This picture, taken from our balcony at work on a casual Tuesday evening, should show you how popular the city gets during Semana Santa:

And here's a before and after closer to my apartment:

 

Later in the week we met up with some other coworkers and saw some of the processions at night, which was gorgeous:

Apparently all of these statues are the originals, and when they're not being paraded around town they are fixtures in the churches that each brotherhood (or hermanidad) belongs to. Because they're the originals, they're worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, and one of the most popular majors at university in Sevilla is art restoration. Learning all of this definitely changed my perspective on what an honor it is to be one of the men carrying them in the paso.

Next post: Easter in Lagos, Portugal

Let's talk cost of living...

This may be the only time in my life that I live in a city center. Unless I miraculously get myself a high paying job (With a Liberal Arts Degree? Who am I kidding?), there is no way I would ever be able to pay rent in Boston, NYC, Philadelphia, DC, any major city in the US without scrounging my pennies.

This doesn't bother me. I mean, right now I'm working a full time co-op for going out money, basically, and I love my job. As long as I'm a single girl not wondering where my next meal is coming from (and with enough money to buy myself a cute pair of shoes and a new purse every now and then), money has no meaning to me.

I am both frugal and spendy. By that I mean, I'm always looking for deals. Coupons, sales, comparing prices. I can't think of a single instance in which I would ever choose to buy name-brand if there was a store-brand alternative (I'm looking at you, Spanish store-brand "ketchup"). But I also like to go out with friends, and I have a scarf/purse buying problem (hello, Shopper's Anonymous? I need you), and especially while I'm in Europe I will spend whatever it takes to travel.

So to live, practically, in the middle of a major Spanish city, in a studio apartment for $450 a month? That's insane.

Now that I've been here for 2 and a half months, let's break down the cost of living that I've experienced:*

Rent: $450/month (including utilities)
Groceries: $20-25/week
Going Out: $30-50/week (hey, I'm a college kid.)
Internet: $20/month
Spanish Mobile phone: $30/month

*keeping in mind that as a 20 year old, I'm going for cheapest possible, not quality

Now, there may be incidentals from time to time (hello, one-time service charge for Wifi. Here's looking at you, fee to open a spanish bank account) but for the most part, this total comes to just about $800 a month, or $9600 a year.

Unfortunately, Spanish minimum wage is much lower than in the US and other countries, so the average minimum wage salary wouldn't support my "lifestyle" here, falling short at about 750 euro a month. Plus, jobs in Sevilla are scarce (read: impossible to find).

But let me put it this way:

Cost of Living in Sevilla: $800/month
Living in Sevilla: Priceless

Yes; we're the crazy Americans.

Last Saturday I thoroughly enjoyed going grocery shopping now that I have my toaster oven, and spent most of the day cooking and doing laundry:

I honestly thought hanging my laundry to dry would be the weirdest experience, but I'm going to really miss it when I go home. When it's warm out, your clothes dry within the hour, and all you have to do is pin them out there and forget about them. And yes, I have forgotten about them before. 

Saturday night my friend Hayley and I went out to try out some tapas bars in the area. We started at 8:30 (rookie mistake) by having a beer at the setas kiosk. Spanish dinner time isn't until about 10-10:30, so we were surrounded by people having an aperitif, or before dinner drinks with friends.

Then we wandered into the city to get some food (again, still early by Spanish standards). Our goal was to have one or two little tapas to share at each bar and then move on to try another. However, we quickly discovered that it's highly unusual for two people to sit down and only order one little plate. ("One? You only want one?" they continually asked us in Spanish). Usually, when ordering tapas you order several to share, but that wasn't the point of our tour of the city.

So we had patatas bravas and eggplant with tomato in one bar, then moved on to Bar Alfalfa. We lucked out and scored a table right away - could have been something to do with the fact that it was only 9:30. There we ordered a tostada with really strong cheese and walnuts, and paella which was one of the specials of the night. I don't think I will ever get used to the cheese here. Bring back my neon orange cheddar!!!

We headed into the more touristy area next, but stuck to the back streets and found a near empty little bar to have our last drink of the night.

To bribe ourselves into walking home rather than jumping in a cab, we bought some gelato and were in bed by 12:30. Because we're cool kids.

Sunday morning I slept in super late, threw on some clothes, and went back to Hayley's to sit on her rooftop and soak in the sun like the pale kids we are. 

I was extraordinarily bad at taking photos last weekend.

The beginning of the work week was crazy. It seemed like we suddenly had so much to do in so little time, but then by the time Thursday rolled around, I was feeling like this, fighting my way through the flea market outside my apartment:

I made it out of the flea market and then somehow found myself in the middle of a student protest at Plaza de la Encarnacion. Just all casual like. Go figure. 

And forty-five minutes after I left my apartment, I finally made it to work.

Friday morning I managed to open a Spanish bank account. Woohoo! I kid you not, when I told the bank employee my US address, he said (in Spanish) "The only thing I know about Pennsylvania is that's where all the horror movies take place."

I hope that's not what every Spanish person thinks when I say I'm from Pennsylvania.

Friday afternoon I worked for five hours and then went to Costco with two of my coworkers. (Again, not kidding, we went to the only Costco in europe and it was beautiful). I refrained from buying everything (the salads. the cakes. the cookies. the snacks.) and went home with my bounty.

Saturday, surprise surprise, was Andalucia day. I'm sure this has super important regional implications, but to me all it meant was that everything was closed. Everything. Even Corte Ingles. #struggle

I did not know this in advance, so I had no groceries. What's a girl to do? Go exploring.

I bought myself a whole chicken fresh off the rotisserie at a little hole in the wall shop to sustain me for the weekend (and plenty into the week) and then nearby found this adorable little pet shop with birds, fish, rabbits, and guinea pigs:

Here you see a baby guinea pig just casually munching on a baguette. No big deal. After all, bread is the staple of every living thing's diet, no?

I went back out around 6 to spend some time in the sun and finally made it to the stop of las setas - the "Metropol Parasol" in Plaza de la Encarnacion. 

Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous. I live just about five to seven minutes down the street from the plaza, so I've gotten a little complacent about having this giant wooden structure in my neighborhood (fun fact: largest wooden structure in Spain and possibly Europe as a whole). Taking a trip to the top was enough to humble me.

A cute older Spanish couple had me take their picture - the woman spent a good two minutes trying to "show" me how to use her phone camera. Thanks, but I think I know what I'm doing. You just smile and pose. Ah, the perks of being a solo traveller. I have taken many a tourist's photo.

My favorite day of this week, though, was Sunday.

Hayley and I tried our hardest to find the Sevilla Animal Market by the river, but it eluded us. I don't know if it doesn't exist anymore, or just wasn't there this weekend, but we were super disappointed. No kittens for us.

Our spirits were lifted, however, by two women in costume passing out vouchers for free wine. Animals? What animals? 

We sat in the sun for a good two hours at one kiosk, eating toast with olive oil and tomato paste and churros.

It was so good, and so filling for just 2 euros. Where in the states could you get a breakfast that cheap??

Then, we started visiting the bars that were giving out free glasses of wine (there were 13 total; we only went to 3, don't worry).

While we were wandering, there was a group of men practicing their procession route for the upcoming festivities of Feria/Semana Santa. They were all squished into this little metal cage, moving about an inch every time they shuffled forward. That's dedication.

We managed to catch them practicing with this golden one on Calle Feria (my street!) as they went into a church. Not that it would have been hard, considering I'm pretty sure at the pace they were moving it probably took them another half an hour to make it to the door.

Our final stop was for a little pizza to share at La Surena. There, we met a super friendly dog (yes, we were those crazy Americans going "Here, doggy! Hola, perro! Come here!" to random strangers' animals). No shame. This old guy hung out with us for a while:

And we loved him.

There aren't leash laws in Sevilla like there are in the states. The dogs are really well behaved (rarely bark, mind their own business and don't usually interact with strangers) so a lot of the time people will just let them wander around while they eat at a bar or kiosk or walk to a shop.

It's basically impossible to distinguish between a homeless dog and a dog whose owner is just around the next block, waiting for it to catch up. I still find this so strange, because that would never (or at least very rarely) happen in the US. 

Not that I mind; all the better for doling out pats to passing puppies.

Toaster Oven Love

I don't have many pictures this week, mostly because I have internet now so there's been a lot of this:

It was a pretty exhausting week.

Monday and Wednesday I went to the gym with coworkers and subsequently could hardly move the rest of the week. Need a quick lesson on numbers in Spanish? Go to pilates. I am also now fully familiar with the words "inhale" and "exhale" and "just a little more!" (which is always a lie).

Thursday I went on an adventure searching what felt like all of Triana for a toaster oven. I was determined. I didn't find a toaster oven, but I didn't go home empty handed.

I was wandering around and happened to pass by a little shop that had a mannequin outside with one of these blanket scarves on. It is no secret that I have been lusting after one ever since I came to Sevilla. Every time I pass them on the street, I consider haggling with the street vendors and buying one, but I always tell myself no and keep walking.

Well, this was a sign. I needed it. I bought it. I was so happy about my scarf that I didn't even care about making this creepy face:

I'm a scarf addict.

On Friday we get out of work early so we went on a gastronomic adventure. We started at a great restaurant called No Kitchen, which I'm not even sure how to describe. All of the food was delicious, which is evidenced by the fact that I didn't even remember to take a picture until the last dish - zucchini noodles with pesto and parmesan. Notice all the other empty plates.

Other tapas included salmon tartar with avocado and beet sauce, octopus with mashed potatoes (yes, octopus. Really.), "Surprise" tartar which was basically just tomato and spice, and cod with grated tomato.

Oh, and I'm 90% positive there was a picture of Guy Fieri on the wall with all their other press documents, but I forgot to take a picture (sorry, Dad).

All the dishes there were so tiny and light that we decided our best option was to go for a slice of pizza afterwards to fill our tummies (hey, it was Friday).

Best decision ever. Finally we ate real fro-yo while sitting in the warm, warm sun under the setas. Yum, yum, yum. Needless to say on Friday I did not need dinner (and thank god because all that is currently in my fridge is 1 zucchini, a bit of milk, and a bottle of wine).

After lunch (aka at 5pm) one of the girls walked me back to Triana, where she lives, to search again for the elusive, cheap toaster oven. Still no luck in Triana.

So Friday night I settled for paying 56 euro for this bad boy:

I managed to ask some really stupid questions to the shopkeeper (all in Spanish, mind you), but she was nice and super duct taped the box/bag for me so I could carry it home struggle-style without it ripping.

While I was checking out, an American guy came in and the first thing he said to another shop attendant was "No hablo mucho espanol..." and started playing charades to signify what he was looking for.

Ah, I remember those days (they still regularly occur). I chuckled involuntarily at the resemblance to myself and probably should have told him that the adaptor he was buying would be half as cheap at any of the nearby Chinos.

Also, who goes abroad and doesn't take a plug adaptor???

This blogging hiatus brought to you by my lack of internet....

This actually could have been another post just about food, but I’ll try and diversify.

I’m all moved into my apartment, and I’m greeted by this beautiful view of the sky out of my bedroom window every morning:

So, to recap since we left off:

On Thursday I woke up for work, left my apartment building, and promptly found myself in the middle of a flea market. Right outside my front door. Needless to say, I was a little bit late for work that day.

Saturday, I gathered my wits about me, google-translated all the necessary words, and headed to the farmer’s market a las setas.

There, I successfully asked for (or pointed to) all of the produce on my list, for about 6 euro. Loveeee. 

Also, they had all these cute, fluffy, dead wild bunnies at the butcher stand and I only cried a little (kidding). I was visibly surprised by it and the man standing beside me looked at me like I had three heads while I snapped a photo.

Sunday, we last-minute organized a quick trip to the country side (Campo Day!). This included 11 people in three cars driving up the winding, bumpy mountainside to the beautiful country house that belongs to the family of one of the Glamping Hub managers. B-E-A-U-tiful.

We ate so much good food. Empanadillas, patatas alinas, tortillas, guacamole…so good. I took maybe the most American pot luck food I could think of on such short notice (and with no cookware in my kitchen): tortilla roll-ups. They were a hit, to my surprise.

We also made 4 trips into the little orange grove behind the house and must have picked about 200 oranges between us. I came home with 15 oranges and 4 beautiful lemons. For free!

We also took a long walk in the countryside.

And then I went home and slept very, very well.

Last week at work went by really quickly. I’m sure I did interesting things, but I didn’t take pictures of any of them so who knows what they were.

A coworker and I went scavenging the streets for internet service; we were both currently living a life without wifi and dying slowly inside. We struck out.

The good news is that she opened me up to a world in which a little shop called Tiger exists. Tiger is basically a classy Dollar Tree. Most items are under 5 euro and junk you never knew you needed till you saw it at Tiger. We also got lost finding Zara Home and lusted after things in Butler’s, a semi-expensive shop full of (again; useless but much coveted) kitchenware. I’ll stick to the little Chinos, thanks.

On Friday, the same coworker and I went out in the city.

We started off at a little bar in Triana called Santa Ana, where we ate grilled squid (I say, like I have it all the time) and discussed our fascination with the way the bar kept our tab – with chalk.

From there we headed to Alameda and ended up about three minutes from my apartment (not that I realized it at the time). We wandered in and out of a few bars, almost froze to death, and then finally decided to call it a night at 1 am. People in Sevilla usually stay out and party till 6 in the morning, but considering we’re usually in bed by 11…this was fine by us.

When I say headed home, by the way, I mean went in a big circle with the help of a tourist-y paper map. We’ll know better next time….

Saturday I slept in and then went shopping at el Corte Ingles (love of my life) and did a lot of cooking.

Sunday I finally decided to be a tourist. I started with a walk along the river:

Stopped at several places including a kiosk where I got a café and a Starbucks where I tried in vain to connect to the free wifi:

Then I went Full Tourist and headed down to Plaza Espana.

Beautiful, but I don’t know if it was worth the hype.

I then wandered into the jungle, also known as the park across from Plaza Espana and sat for a bit, eating an orange I’d brought along (leftover from Campo Day!).

And then I headed home, for a grand total of 39,000 steps walked this past weekend.

Next Adventure: Buying a toaster oven. I AM SO EXCITED.