(Yes, that is a picture of me taking a nap.)
Day 9 into my Europe trip came to a close when I arrived in Seville that evening.
I was greeted by my older cousin, who prefers that I call her “cuz” because it makes her feel younger. Ha. Ha. We drove an hour south of Seville, where she has been living the past couple of years because her husband is stationed at the nearby naval base. Because I had to abstain from meat on Fridays during the Lenten season, I was treated to a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, with milk when we arrived at her place. Hooray for American comfort food in Spain!
The following day, we went into town to meet with her Spanish family for lunch. We spent the entire afternoon “tapa-hopping”, where we enjoyed a tapa dish and a beverage at one tapa bar, and repeated the process at other tapa bars. One tapa dish in particular that I enjoyed is chocos fritos, or fried cuttlefish. The thickness and freshness of each choco frito put the bland calamari I had been eating all this time to shame. I also ate calamares fritos, or Spanish-style fried calamari, at other places in Spain, but that dish also paled in comparison to chocos fritos. Chocos fritos is a specialty in southern Andalusia, and cannot be found at other places in Spain. Keep in mind not to say chochos fritos. Just saying! 🙂
Despite the language barrier between my cuz’s Spanish family and me, I understood and appreciated their good intentions and hospitality. They cracked jokes, mostly inappropriate, and asked me questions to make me feel welcome as we ate tapa dish after tapa dish. I was caught by surprise when strangers often kiss each other cheek-to-cheek when greeting each other. Talk about affection! By the time we knew it, the day was already 5pm in the afternoon. Spending time with my cuz’s Spanish family was a foreshadowing into the eating habits of Spanish people, in which I would find quirky.
On the third day of my trip in Southern Spain, my cuz took me to a hilltop town called Vejer de la Frontera. The town is known for its almost-all white architecture overlooking the Strait of Gibraltar. We ate lunch at a Moroccan restaurant that served Mediterranean-influenced dishes, such as barbeque, baba ghanoush, and hummus. Even though we started lunch at 1pm, there were hardly any people at the restaurant. By the time we left the restaurant close to 3pm, the restaurant was packed with people. My cuz told me that Spanish people eat later in the day in comparison to other places in the world. We walked around Vejer de la Frontera following our lunch, where my cuz insisted on taking numerous pictures of me. I seldom take pictures, preferring to enjoy the moments for what they are, but I learned a lesson that afternoon: in order to have those great pictures that are facebook- or share-worthy, you also have to take the pictures that are not-so-great that you would not want to share or would want to delete.
As my cuz told me to stand at certain places so she can get a good shot of me, I decided to have fun and imitate model-like, if not contrived, poses I have seen in men’s style magazines. Looking back at the photos my cuz took of me, I laughed and cringed at the silliness of my poses. She showed me that day that I should release my inhibitions while savoring the moment when on vacation.
(I received about 40 likes on my silly facebook profile picture taken that day in Vejer de la Frontera. Out of my 400 friends on facebook, that equates to a 10-to-1 friends-to-like ratio. Not bad, Noy Sauce. Not bad!)
The following day, we went to Gibraltar with my cuz’s friend, who is the wife of a fellow Navy officer. Gibraltar is a small peninsula off Southern Spain that is a British overseas territory. This meant that a passport is required to enter Gibraltar, and the euro currency is generally not accepted. Spending the day with my cuz and her friend put me in an episode of the Real Housewives of the Navy. The housewives are a group of friends who often go out and visit places together, while their husbands are on duty protecting the world from devastation. They enjoy conversations about family, politics, and the occasional gossip about a fellow housewife. We ate at a pub for lunch, and took a tour of the Rock of Gibraltar afterward. A random fact about the Rock of Gibraltar is that the rock is used as the logo for Prudential Financial, an insurance company. Standing on top of the rock, looking at Spain on one end and looking at Africa on another, was surreal. I was in for a surprise when tourists were allowed to interact with the wild Barbary Macaque inhabiting the rock. The monkeys were brought in as companion pets by the Arabs, who inhabited Gibraltar in the 11th and 12th centuries. The Barbary Macaque have inhabited the area since. The Barbary Macaque whom I petted was friendly towards me, but the one who interacted with my cuz put its foot on her mouth. Yikes! And ewww!
It was time to go back to Spain once we went down the rock. I was fascinated that crossing into Gibraltar to and from Spain requires crossing the runway of Gibraltar International Airport. When flights arrive and depart from the airport, traffic that crosses the runway is stopped for 15 minutes to allow aircraft to land or take off. I knew that I had to cross the runway by foot. After all, Gibraltar Airport has the only runway in the world where you can legally walk through it. My cuz and her friend dropped me off before crossing the runway, and I then took a nice, 10 minute walk across the runway, taking selfies and enjoying the smell of burnt asphalt. Once I crossed the border into Spain, I met with my cuz and her friend, and then we went back to her place. I enjoyed my day with the Real Housewives of the Navy. I commend them for finding ways to make the time spent together interesting, leaving little room for a dull time. (For example, my cuz’s friend fed the wild monkeys even though you are not supposed to!)
On my fourth day in Southern Spain, my cuz and I drove to a small town called Ronda. Ronda is well-known for being divided by a gorge, and both sides connected by a bridge. The town is also where author Ernest Hemingway stayed for numerous summers, writing about Ronda’s bull-fighting traditions. Before touring Ronda, we visited Cueva de la Pileta, a cave known for its paintings and writings that date back thousands of years. Touring the cave felt strange being under hundreds of meters inside a mountain with a modest amount of humidity. The cynic in me thought someone made those stick-figure drawings in the cave using a colored Crayola pencil. (See, I still make fun of art outside of an art museum!) Once I got out of the cave, the day felt brighter after being surrounded by darkness for about an hour. We later went to Ronda, where we met another member of my cuz’s Spanish family for lunch. Following our lunch, my cuz and I walked across the bridge to the other side of Ronda, where we hiked for about an hour, and of course, took more GQ-esque pictures. We then walked back to the other side of Ronda, and took even more pictures in front of Plaza de Toros de Ronda. I became embarrassed as my cuz was getting that perfect shot of me imitating a bull-fighter statue, while the Chinese tourists walking by looked at me funny.
On my last day in Southern Spain, my cuz drove me to Seville, where I would be taking the train to Madrid for my fourth, and last part of my Europe trip. But before she dropped me off, we toured the Alcazar of Seville and Seville Cathedral. I found amusement in the gypsies roaming the area, holding bundles of rosemary and telling people, “Toma,” which means “take”. If you do “toma” the rosemary, the gypsy will give you a blessing and then ask you for money. If you do not give them money, they will place a curse on you (or so I think.). I know, an intense shit scam. This was not going to be the last time I would see gypsies in Spain, and be amused by their culture. We had lunch at a nearby tapa bar, where I enjoyed more tapas to go along with my go-to drink, Tinto de Verano. Following our lunch, my cuz dropped me off at the train station. It was time to say goodbye to a short, yet sweet part of my trip.
Like drinking a glass of Tinto de Verano, I enjoyed the sweetness of my trip to Southern Spain so much that it was over before I knew it. Spending time with my cuz taught me that enjoying yourself should be an essential part of living life, no matter what you are currently experiencing or have experienced.