Justin's blog

I'm overdue for a post now, so I'm going to try to catch up at least somewhat. Since the last time I've blogged, which was only a stopgap description of our time in Sevilla with Matt & Nate last month, we spent a day in Málaga to see Matt off, Michelle and I went to southern Germany for a week and saw lots of Stuttgart and Heidelberg, the annual fair has come and gone to Marbella (nearly sending fireworks into our very apartment), and we trekked all over the third of the three major Andalucían cities, Córdoba. By the time you read this, we will be into our last full week in Spain before heading to Paris next week for a quick vacation and then back to the States, ready to plot our next move.

But first, a side note. I just flat out asked her yesterday since I had no idea -- what did the title of Michelle's last post mean ("Don't Eat The Pictures")? Turns out it refers to a 1983 Sesame Street special (of course!) about visiting the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York and as such, well, it makes perfect sense to title a post about museums in Germany after it, no? If you were as curious as me, you might be interested in reading more about that topic at Wikipedia or YouTube. If even I didn't know this one, what hope do you have, dear reader, of understanding these cryptic titles? Consider this my promise to you that we'll try harder and, at worst, involve children's shows from this decade/century/millenium in our post titles from here on out. Spongebob, anyone?

Anyway, on with the catch up!

Sevilla

We figured we'd do it up right while Matt & Nate were here and head to the regional capital of Andalucía, Sevilla, or, as its called in English, Seville. I took a Friday afternoon off and we headed by bus (as we often do here) on the 3.5 hour or so trip northwest. I dozed a little on and off, but my biggest two memories were:

• An amazing castle and medieval city perched high on a mountain in the middle of hills on the edge of a crystal lake, which we spent a half hour approaching on windy roads and then another half hour driving away from.
• The crazy, switchback mountain roads up to Ronda, then back down again towards Sevilla, all the while tailgating another, slower bus and being leapfrogged by motorcyclists with an apparent utter lack of any sort of deceleration technology.

All I can say about both of these is that I've learned that Spanish bus drivers really know how to get the most potential out of a motor coach. To say that they push the mechanical limits a bit is an understatement. Picture a master sculptor working clay, or a baker kneading dough. A driver here works a bus like a woodworker plies wood, and he doesn't leave room for error. The brakes groan, the suspension creaks, the driver spins the wheel far left, then far right, then back again, always keeping up pressure on the accelerator and a hawk eye on the road. I'm rather glad I didn't see what Matt did -- a 1960s-era bus, rusted out, grass growing from it, on its side at the bottom of the very canyon we were traversing, presumably left there after its fateful failing sometime during the Nixon administration.

But we obviously arrived in one piece! We got into town, easily navigated the city, and arrived at our very cool hostel, The Oasis. We found out that with four of us, we were entitled to our own room, complete with bunk beds and a view to the street below. Also, we got there just in time to learn that a free group tapas tour and flamenco show were planned, and since one of our goals was to experience a real flamenco show and not a tourist trap, we figured this was a good bet. We were not disappointed.

Tapas Tour & Flamenco Show

We hit the first tapas place and enjoyed a variety of dishes. Matt, Nate, and I tended towards fish and pork, and Michelle rounded out the vegetable choices. There was much swapping of food, good drinks, the open air of a plaza, and a general fun and relaxing time.

After that, we spent a while following our guide through some winding streets while he constantly text messaged with someone and kept adjusting his route, and struck up a conversation with a recent college grad from Idaho who was in the midst of a five month tour of Europe, his first time abroad. He was a nice guy and we were all fast friends by the time we arrived at what was apparently our destination.

Turns out that the flamenco place was a bit hidden and hard to get to and we didn't have time for a second tapas place, but no worries -- we were all ready for the show. We opened a large, unlabeled and nondescript door, entered an old lobby of sorts, turned a corner, and were confronted with a dark hall teeming with hundreds of folks ready for flamenco, tossing back beers and sangria and sitting on long benches under a low roof populated by many unused fans. The weather was still pretty moderate, but the crowd made it a little hot inside -- not hot enough for the fans, though. Admission was free (a good sign) and the place was supported by drinks at the bar, which we took full advantage of.

The show itself was fantastic. It's kind of hard to describe -- it's really not just about the dancing, but as much about the guitarist, vocalist, and (in this group) the flute player. The vocals were the most interesting part, because they definitely had a Middle Eastern feel to them and the lead singer never took his intense stare off of the dancer while performing. It was clear that the group was performing as much for themselves as for the hall in attendance, since they were very passionate and had what the Spanish call duende, or "the spirit", when it came to their performance. I'm really glad that we got to experience this and that it wasn't some sort of tourist attraction but a real show for real Spaniards. A definite highlight.

Alcázar and Cathedral

We spent that Saturday exploring Sevilla's Alcázar (Muslim and later, Christian, palace) and its cathedral, which is the largest Gothic church and the fourth largest Christian church in the world. The cathedral alone took over a hundred years to build.

In the Alcázar, highlights included a painting which is the first known depiction of the discovery of America, an amazing pooled courtyard in the style that we've seen in Granada and other places since, ancient wall-sized tapestries, and beautiful gardens containing a hedge maze, peacocks, Arab baths, and orange groves.

The cathedral was stunning. It included an enormous gilded altar (the most gold I've ever seen), the royal treasury, a minaret-turned-belltower, and -- oh yeah, in case you thought they were slacking -- Christopher Columbus' tomb. Words can't do it justice -- check out the photos (see the links at the end of the post).

We took a break and found a great bar called Cafe Bar Las Teresas, which really typifies Sevillian tapas. We had our share of jamón and wine and, rested up, moved on for the rest of the day.

Next time, I'll talk about the bullfighting museum, the Archives of the Indias, the ren faire, and of course, the bunk bed disaster -- and that's just the rest of Sevilla. Stay tuned!

• Our photos of the flamenco bar
• Our photos of the Alcázar
• Our photos of the cathedral
• Wikipedia: Flamenco
• Wikipedia: Seville Cathedral
• Wikipedia: Alcázar of Seville

We'll be blogging our experiences last weekend in Sevilla soon -- architecture, tapas, flamenco, medieval fair, bunk bed disasters, and more! But for now, I just wanted to post a technical update for the seasoned blog readers out there.

If you use an RSS reader to keep up on this blog or others, we've now got a comments feed. We've always had a regular feed, so that's unchanged; however, now you can reach both through RSS-aware browsers like Safari right from the title bar (thanks to Daniel for some early prodding ;-) or you can reach them both from little badges in the lower right sidebar.

That's all for now!

What is RSS?

When I left off last time, we had spent a Saturday in Granada seeing many sights, planning to tour The Alhambra the next day. And tour it we did! But first, the lead-up...

We had heard that the ticket office opened quite early, plus city buses started running up the hill just as early, which would be great because they could save us a twenty-minute walk up the hill first thing in the morning -- before light, before breakfast, and while having to wear warmer clothes but then carry them around all day after it got hot. We walked to Plaza Isabel La Católica after checking out at about 7am and lucked out -- buses were just getting started and at 1€ a trip were a steal.

Now, bear in mind that we had been duly warned about the lines at The Alhambra -- as I mentioned before, this place does 6,000 people a day, year-round. I've waited in some lines in my day, so I figured we'd get there relatively early (realizing that some folks would certainly start at 6 or even 5am) and worst case, get turned away after a couple hours, leaving us to spend the rest of the day continuing to explore Granada and with intentions to try again another day.

When we got to the line, there were easily 500 people in front of us. Still dark out, mind you. But I figured, hey, the odds are still good. We took our place and started to wait.

We spent the next two hours not even moving.

The ticket office opened at 8am, but things didn't even move for another hour after that. Why did we wait? Well, it always seemed that just a few more minutes and things would get underway and that we would just move through the booth after that. We busied ourselves making runs to the snack bar, trying to guess what countries people were from, and sharing sympathetic, annoyed glances with our fellow waiters.

Eventually, we struck up a conversation with the folks in front of us, two Indian girls from Kuwait who now live in Chicago, and then, in front of them, a Dutch guy taking one of his eleven (!) annual weeks of holiday, and became fast friends. One of the interesting things we learned from our friends was that coming from the north on their trip, they found Granada to be the most lax in terms of English speakers and coming from the tourist-inhabited south, we found it to be the least English friendly. But we did ok!

An hour later, the security guard we had seen roaming around (a Spanish version of Kenny Rogers, in my opinion) proceeded to allow about thirty people to get directly in front of us because they had been waiting in the automated machine line for hours, not realizing that they were only for pickup and not for purchasing. (Why? Why can't this be automated?) It wasn't even worth making a fuss. We had transcended pettiness, impatience, and lower back pain and were committed to waiting things out, whatever the price or obstacle.

The best part of all was the Dutchman's explanation to us that he runs a consultancy on -- get this -- logistics. This experience was to him the equivalent of me waiting in line for four hours because they couldn't plug the computer in to let us buy tickets.

Anyway, I mention all of this only partly to vent, but mostly to impart a sense of the Spanish attitude towards things like this. We noticed that instead of building up the capacity to process more people, the waiting areas were built out to accommodate more waiters. Thirty people were told to just get in line in front of 500 or more people who had been there longer than them. And all the while, everyone seemed annoyed, but no one made a fuss. Everything was inefficient, but everyone was pretty zen about it. Or at least it's easy to say that now. In retrospect, I wish I had planned the Arab bath for after the line waiting, but que sera, sera...

Now, I can't recommend The Alhambra highly enough -- after all, this 12th Century complex represents the height of world civilization at its time, so it ain't bad on the eyes -- but do yourself a favor and buy your ticket online or on the phone. Don't even try to wing it unless, oh, you're training for a 26-mile stand-a-thon or something like that.

We still don't know what the general holdup was, but we got our tickets almost four hours on the dot after beginning our quest and then proceeded into the parking lot, blinking at the sun and wondering what to do with ourselves until our timed entrance at 2pm. We ended up heading back down the hill to grab some late breakfast at a nice chain-like place called Vía Colon (which I only pronounced out loud in English much later, to my simultaneous amusement and disgust).

Anyway, after busing back up, we spent the remaining time until 2pm exploring the public areas around the Generalife gardens, which consisted mostly of a beautiful building, now one of the world's best hotels, but in a prior life, the next-to-final resting places of Fernando and Isabel after their deaths early in the 16th Century and before completion of La Capilla Real downtown in 1521 (more on that later).

At 2pm, we were let into the Generalife. These are basically the most beautiful gardens I've ever seen and were the gardens and summer home of the emirs for centuries. If they are keeping them in this good of shape now, I can't imagine how they must have looked in their peak. Water is a central theme and seems to flow all over the place, making you wonder where it comes from and how it moves from place to place. It turns out that a single, distant ditch funnels water out of the Sierra Nevada to the north to this plateau and through an ingenious system of aqueducts and troughs is sent all over The Alhambra. It's amazing. And the elegance and detail of this summer palace only hinted at what was to come...

We went back out to the public areas, including the outside of the Palacio de Carlos V, Iglesia de Santa Maria de la Alhambra, and the Plaza de los Aljibes outside of the Alcazaba, or main fortress walls and towers. The main buildings here date from a much later period -- for example, the palace was begun in 1527, which the Alcabaza walls date to the 12th and 13th Centuries.

We made our way into the Alcazaba and started up some steps to the main interior level. As someone who's never really been inside what you could consider a real castle, this was a treat. The walls are in fantastic shape and you really get a sense of the kind of fortress this could be with soldiers manning the walls, watchmen looking into the distance, and bustling files of footmen drilling inside. Of course, I am envisioning a more traditional Western European type of castle, as those are the types featured in the stories with which I'm familiar. Does anyone have any recommended reading so that I can learn more? Are these a good start?

The highlight of the Alcazaba for me was standing atop the Torre de la Vela (Tower of the Watch), the place where the flag of Fernando and Isabel was raised in 1492, but long before that, the highest viewpoint for seeing The Alhambra, the city, and the Sierra Nevada. I could clearly see their snowcapped peaks even as the hot sun beat down on my head. Another highlight was being able to see the archaeological museum down in town that we had visited the day before from the Alcazaba walls.

After the Alcazaba, we neared the hour for our timed ticket entrance to the Palacio Nazaríes, the most famous and beautiful part of The Alhambra. There was no disappointment there -- just have a glance over the Wikipedia tour or look at a map of the place to get a sense of the size and complexity. Highlights for us here were the tile work, the archways, just the scale of the place, and of course, the often-photographed Salón de los Embajadores (Hall of the Ambassadors). I'm embarrassed to only be able to put it into a Western frame of reference, but this was the room where Columbus received his support from Fernando and Isabel to sail to the New World -- not to mention the place from which centuries of sultans ruled. Michelle and I were able to sit in folding chairs in the corners and take in the amazing ceiling and walls, but unfortunately not much came through in the way of photos as it was quite dark and hard to capture the detail.

I was a little disappointed with the Patio de los Leones (Court of the Lions) because the lions are actually being restored and the museum which normally houses one, in the Palacio de Carlos V, was closed. They are a rare example of Islamic animal sculptures. But it was still an impressive courtyard.

The remainder of the palace after that was made of more modern buildings, including a sunny courtyard filled with orange trees (have I mentioned how much I love these?), the room that Washington Irving wrote in, and some beautiful fountains and gardens. There was plenty of seating to take frequent breaks -- why get all tired out when we had spent the morning standing, it was hot out, and it was exceedingly relaxing to just sit and take in the views.

All in all, I would go back in a heartbeat now that I know where to focus my time and what to check on ahead of time (like the lions). However, you can be sure that I'll buy my tickets online next time.

After The Alhambra, one of the highlights that we were able to swing was the Capilla Real (Royal Chapel -- heads up, the site has music playing) next to the cathedral (which sadly was now closed to due being a Sunday). No photos were allowed, but besides an amazing chapel interior, an enormous and beautiful cast iron grille from the early 16th Century, and the stunning mausoleums, we went down into the crypt and saw the sealed lead coffins of Fernando, Isabel and family in person. Incredible. Seriously, spend a few minutes at that website and check it out. I can't impart to you the sense of awe and history that I felt there.

We spent a bit more time in Granada, but only really relaxing, eating, picking up our suitcase, and letting Spanish ladies wear my hat. Wait, what?

We were sitting next to a quiet couple from the UK, having a quiet meal, when a very large group of very loud Spanish folks came around the corner, descended upon our outdoor seating area, and proceeded to take all of the free tables and chairs in the place and assemble a large, combined seating area for themselves. Two ladies came over to ask for our empty adjoining table and seeing my hat on the a chair, kept trying it on and taking pictures of each other. I asked to take one myself and they happily obliged. I don't know if they were tourists from another part of Spain or merely a very comfortable local social group, but they were fun to watch and not as rude as they might sound.

All in all, a fitting end to a day in a thoroughly lively, thoroughly fun city -- Granada.

• Our Alhambra pictures
• Alhambra homepage historical introduction
• Wikipedia page on The Alhambra

Just over a week ago we went to Granada for the weekend -- our first overnight trip since arriving in Spain. We were told that we would probably really like Granada, being that it is a college town, one of the big three cities in Andalucía, and full of history, architecture, and things to do. And we did -- it was a blast!

We tried to plan ahead and get tickets for the Alhambra in advance, as the word on the street was that they sell out every day, year-round -- 6000+ tickets a day! After some quick looking around online to make sure tickets looked somewhat available, we called a few places to stay (in Spanish, thank you very much) and managed to line up a hostal near Plaza Nueva, which is pretty central to town, the Alhambra, the Albayzín (old Islamic quarter), and anything else that we'd want to do. We figured we'd get tickets when we got to town and kind of play it by ear.

We left Marbella early Saturday by bus for the nearly three-hour ride up to Granada. That passed without incident or event, really, but was pretty relaxing and with a quick stopover in Málaga on the way, so now we know what that bus station is like. Right out of the Granada station, we were pretty sure we had figured out the city buses to Plaza Nueva, but with about twenty minutes to spare before the time we told the hostal owner we'd be there (noon), we figured we'd play it safe and take a taxi. We made it right on time, prepaid for our room (quite cheap, since we used the shared floor bathroom), and dumped our stuff to explore town. And our room was cute, in a very old house, with a nice family running the place and on a lively street (Cuesta de Gomérez).

We explored Plaza Nueva, with its kebab and gelato vendors, headed up towards Plaza Santa Ana and its old church, grabbed a city map at the tourist office, and headed a bit further into town to explore the area around the cathedral.

Granada is very lively, with lots of beautiful old plazas featuring open air restaurant seating, musicians, street vendors, historic information signs, window shopping, and street performers. We had a nice outdoor lunch at one place between the cathedral and Plaza de la Trinidad, where I had a tomato salad and Michelle a small pizza. When we sat down, there was no one in the restaurant and one other couple outside. Every now and then, someone would walk by (Granada is a great people-watching city, by the way) and stare longingly at Michelle's pizza, like they were going to take a piece. It was borderline unsettling, actually. But before long, there were a good dozen and half tables full of people enjoying food and wine. I like to think we had something to do with it, but in reality, I think we're just good at eating a bit early compared to Spaniards and only appearing to start a trend.

After lunch, we headed off in search of one of the Arab baths we had heard of, since we wanted to make a reservation for later that night. One of the things that we really wished we had done in Istanbul was to go to a famed Turkish bath, but none were both reasonably priced and co-ed, so we opted out of it. But in Granada, our guidebook recommended two Arab baths of similar repute and we decided to splurge a little and go to the nicer and more historic of the two. I got pretty far into the reservation-making process in Spanish (more on the relative popularity of English in Granada later) until I got tripped up on the stupidest of things. She asked for my nombre and I started with my cell number. Even Michelle caught that one. For some reason number and nombre really meld in my mind, but nombre is of course name, not number. So I hastily finished the reservation in English, thanked them profusely (but red-faced), and we headed back out into the city.

We decided to fill our time before the bath with the start of a walking tour of the Albayzín. It was really beautiful, but you could definitely tell that it was built in the shadow of the Alhambra as all of the dramatic intra-building views showed at least a corner of it, high on a hill above all the rest of town. Being as the majority of the walking tour was uphill and the day was quite hot, we decided to plan our walk to end back out at the archaeological museum, spend some time there, then swing back by the hostal to change and head to the bath.

The museum was small but well done, in a Renaissance-era mansion fully converted into rooms ranging from the Stone Age through the late Romantic period. There were a number of well-preserved Roman artifacts, including a mile post from the original Roman roads through the area, and another highlight was the line drawings showing typical lifestyles at various points in time -- cave dwellings, river fishing, boatmaking, and the like.

Just outside the museum we happened upon one of the weirder but livelier parts of Granada, a college-age group of guys dressed up like matadors, wielding a bullhorn and being chased by a guy dressed up like a bull (videos here and here). Good times.

Towards six, we headed down to the area where Aljibe San Miguel Baños Árabes, our bath, was to be found. This, my friends, is some of the best use of money I've ever happened across. You get a towel and a numbered bracelet, dump your stuff in a locker and change into your swimsuit, and head through a large, old, wooden door into a dimly candlelit chamber featuring six pools of varying temperatures of hot water and one well lit pool of cold water. I'd say there were about fifteen people in there with us, mostly college-age girls but a few other couples, and you basically get an hour and a half to just lounge about in these hot pools, switching around as you wish, with the recommendation that you do the cold pool last. All the while soft, strumming, Arabian music is playing and you hear the sounds of drips and soft splashes. It was truly relaxing. After quite some time, your bracelet number is called and you proceed to a side room for -- wait for it -- a personal massage. After that, you head to the side shower stalls to rinse off the massage oils, then we took the dip in the cold pool (I just went for it and plunged up to my neck -- it wasn't too bad if you didn't move). Next up, the side room with sweet Moroccan mint tea and small candies. Lastly, you head back to the changing rooms, grab your stuff, and make your way out. I think I was breathing deeply -- nay, sighing loudly -- for at least an hour after leaving that place. Best ever.

We had a kebab dinner out and headed home for an early bed -- about ten, when most Spaniards are just getting started on dinner -- in an effort to get up nice and early, head up to the Alhambra, score some tickets, and spend the day up there. But I'll leave that adventure for our next installment...

• Our Granada pictures
• Aljibe San Miguel Baños Árabes website

Ok, so I lied -- I'm not really going to write a blog post on Mijas. While it was an interesting and beautiful place, there's not a lot to say (just check out the Wikipedia entry), so it's probably better to just head over and check out the photos instead, which do a good job summarizing our brief but fun visit.

I'll have much more to write soon about Granada and La Alhambra, which is where we went this past weekend. Granada is one of the three big cities of the region (Sevilla and Córdoba being the other two) and we certainly saw a lot during our overnighter there. So, stay tuned!

Sorry for the delay on this one, folks. I suppose it doesn't matter to you either way whether we post about things right after they happen, but this is from our travels last weekend. Not a lot goes on during the week while I'm working (we don't leave town, we mostly eat in, and we just hang out around the apartment, which is getting better and better as the rain is gone and it's light until almost 10pm), so you'd think we'd have no excuse not to get things up in a timely fashion...

Last weekend we went to Gibraltar on Saturday and two local towns, Mijas and Mijas Costa (which I'll write about in my next post), on Sunday. Gibraltar wasn't that far away -- only an hour by bus -- so it's been high on our list from the start as an easy and exciting trip. And against Michelle's initial hesitations, but later enjoyment, we explored Mijas and, while attempting to find it, Mijas Costa (hint: they are not within walking distance of each other). It rained pretty steadily the whole weekend, but we pushed on and still had a blast. And now we know where exactly we want to go back when it's sunny again.

Anyhow, Gibraltar. We got an early start and took a taxi (there are two handy taxi stands near the apartment) up to the bus station and from there, a cheap bus to La Linea de la Concepción, a Spanish border town. I'm not sure what there is to do there, exactly -- and I'm not opposed to going back to find out sometime -- but it seems like everyone goes there just to save on the hassle and cross the international border by foot. Most people had little wheelie suitcases and went straight from the bus station over to the border.

You can see the Rock as soon as you step out and it gives you a nice orientation to walk if you've otherwise got no clue. They do a simple passport check and then you head over. Almost immediately you are confronted with cheerful English chaps, red phone booths, the Union Jack, Winston Churchill Avenue, and double-decker buses, and I really don't think it was overly touristy -- it all seemed very relevant. In fact, I think it could be political, because as you get into town, Spanish culture is evident and there's a nice mix of British and Spanish tone to things. As I understand it, there has been some ongoing contention over possession of Gibraltar, so maybe the high-ho jolliness right out of the gate is to set your impressions up front that you are entering a British colony AND IT'S GOING TO STAY THAT WAY. It certainly worked on us.

A very interesting thing about Gibraltar, which is surprising even when you read it in the guidebook and are prepared for it, is the fact that you have to cross an international airport runway by foot to get into the place. Luckily, we just happened upon one of several daily uses of the airport (a takeoff), so we got to wait at a gate, along with traffic, before being allowed to cross. Once the coast was clear, the gate went up and what seemed like The Great Race began. All these cars queued up, with a moped guy out front, took off across the runway with reckless abandon, leaving us to make our way along the pedestrian lane amidst the rain and with a bicycle lane between us and the cars (no cyclists that day, by the way). Also, travel tip: the best time to cross a runway, which by design is very flat and open to the elements, is not during a rainstorm.

You then make your way through somewhat of a village, though it seemed (for good reason) like outskirts. We weren't really sure where exactly to head -- as you get closer to the Rock, you begin to realize that just aiming for it in general is not enough to get you anyplace productive. Eventually, a helpful gentleman pointed us in the right direction and we approached Landport Tunnel, built in 1727 and once the only way into Gibraltar by land. A busker was playing the theme from The Flintstones on his flute, which echoed in the tunnel and gave a rather colonial flair to things, Hanna Barbara aside.

We quickly found ourselves within the town proper, where we were reminded again that Gibraltar is very clearly English. Maybe it was the rain, but with the cobbled streets in places, bright red Royal Post mailboxes, and British spellings everywhere, it felt quite different from where we had been spending our time in the past few weeks. Two things really made it stand out, though: people spoke in a sort of mix of English and Spanish (my favorite was the semi-formal greeting "hiya") and the liquor stores were packed out to the streets with elderly folks stocking up like Prohibition was on again. Turns out Gibraltar doesn't charge the VAT (this is a tax added to pretty much everything, though I'm not sure if it's just a European convention or an EU mandate), so with liquor in particular, there are deals to be had and apparently older folks came for the booze.

Since we had had a light breakfast, we had some crepes and coffee at a small place off John Mackintosh Square, then found our way through town to Southport Gates and Trafalgar Cemetery before we realized that the cable cars, which are the most commonly-used means to reach the Upper Rock, had been closed for a week due to the wind and rains. There were a number of tour van vendors wandering around with their multilingual signs pitching their various deals. It seems that ways to get to the top, aside from cable car, are driving yourself (maybe next time for us), walking (maybe sometime when it's not raining, as it's a 400m climb), or taking one of these tours. The downside was that the tours were 28€ per person or, if you were like us and had planned on paying for the cable car by credit card and didn't have that in cash, 19£ per person since ATMs only dispensed Gibraltar Pounds (more on that later). Fortunately the guy took us on our word that we'd pay him at the end (which gave me a better feeling about the whole thing after being somewhat skeptical) and it turns out that we rounded out a van full of people so we set off immediately.

The tours don't hit everything up on top, but even if we had been able to cable car up there, we only would have been able to do everything by walking miles and miles on top anyway. So perhaps it was a good taste to encourage coming back for more. The first stop was the Pillars of Hercules point, which is the southernmost point of Gibraltar (though not of this corner of Europe, as Tarifa, Spain, which we could see from the point, holds that title.) There is apparently also a point on the Morocco side that commemorates that spot and marks the gates of the ancient world. It was a little windy but pretty great! One of the coolest parts was being able to see about a dozen huge cargo ships all making their way out to the Atlantic.

After that, we drove a bit and got back out at St. Michael's Cave. This is where we saw our first Barbary Apes, which Michelle was quick to point out are monkeys (Macaca sylvanus) and not in fact apes. But they were just hanging out on the sidewalk and/or hanging off of van mirrors, doorways, and anyplace hanging was to be had. Our driver warned us to pay no attention to them, don't offer them food, and generally ignore them for now as we'd have some quality ape time later.

The cave was pretty small and exhibited-up, but still interesting. It now has a concert hall which seems like it would be a lot of fun. They set the mood by playing some classical music over loudspeakers while you wandered around.

Next up, some more driving over to the Apes' Den. I'll point out that the driving here is pretty narrow and treacherous, so I'll probably stick with the options of cable car plus walking or tour vans in the future. Small European cars aside, I don't really want to be driving up there. And this from someone who wanted to tool around on the cliffs of Greece on our honeymoon.

Anyway, the Apes' Den. Also pretty awesome! The apes are quite familiar with people, as their keepers feed them fruit and other food right from their hands. I'm not sure if the apes can't fend for themselves or, as legend would have it, if the apes die out, the colony goes back to Spain. Either way, the apes seemed pretty comfortable with us but I wasn't taking any chances. With both a fetching hat and my passport on me, I wasn't about to get pick-pocketed by a lesser primate. The highlight here was a wind gust so strong that it almost took my hat off, but the ape next to me perched on the railing just about got reverse-naturally-selected as his arms flailed and his face took on a look of great surprise. But he managed to hold onto both the railing and his piece of orange and make a nice recovery, plus without the look of embarrassment that I had from nearly losing my hat and being frightened by a flailing monkey.

Back in the van, we soon got out at our last stop, The Great Siege Tunnels and viewpoint. I think the tunnels were the best part of what we saw (though I'm itching to go back someday and make it to the WWII museum). The tunnels were hewn in 1782-3 during the last great siege of Gibraltar by the Spanish. You only get to explore about 350m of the tunnels but purportedly there are something like 50km of them in there, all made by man, and still in use by the Royal Navy. The best parts were the cannon emplacements, which give you both a view point to see the outside from within the Rock, as well as a sense of how important this spot was militarily. When you consider that anyone aiming to gain some new land off the Mediterranean would have to sail through here, and just how good a shot you had from within the Rock down on the sea below, it's no wonder this is such a fabled spot.

After a van trip back to the bottom, I made a quick trip to an ATM to get some cash out for the driver. Gibraltar Pounds feature the Queen and are interchangeable with Pounds Sterling, but have their own unique design. I managed to save a 20£ note for posterity which, if things keep going at their current rate, we should be able to use as a down payment on our first home someday.

We checked out the rest of town, which included a great lunch at a thoroughly British pub called The Clipper (where we each had a large pint of Strongbow cider) and a trip through a glassblowing studio and attached store, where we had a great time watching a woman try to wrangle her hyperactive eight-year-old through the displays before finally hauling him out the door in great but frustrated haste.

We walked the quick trip back to Spain, which included going back through Landport Tunnel (musical note: this time, a different busker was playing Suzanne Vega's Tom's Diner on a Casio keyboard.) We had coincidentally just missed a bus, so we went to a café around the corner and had some coffee and watched Churros (the café-owned cat) lounge about before taking our eventual bus back to Marbella.

All told, Gibraltar is highly recommended and I look forward to going again back soon. There's a lot more to do there than we covered and the way I see it, the weather can only be better next time!

Some links:

• Our Gibraltar photos
• Wikipedia page on Gibraltar itself
• Wikipedia page on the Gibraltar Barbary Macaques

Well, we've arrived in Marbella and things have been good so far! We're not too jetlagged (though I didn't get to bed until 2am last night and slept until noon today, but you can be the judge of whether that's normal or not).

We don't yet have internet at the apartment, plus we're not sure if we will at all for the time we're here, so right now we're at an internet café around the corner.

First off, the location! We're in a really great spot. A huge thanks to my friend Matt for helping us land a place and being an enormous help in our transition to Marbella! The apartment turned out to be at least as good as the photos we saw of it, plus it's located just south of the city center and directly on the central beach, Playa de la Venus. We have a sofa bed, so by all means, come visit! We're on the third floor, facing west, so we can see the sea and some more developments down the beach. We're only a couple minutes walk from old town (our taxi from the bus station in the north of town actually took us past the old Islamic city walls) and we've walked all through the old town and about 10-15 minutes east and west along the beaches to explore -- down to a hospital on the east and a supermarket/cinema/small mall on the west.

And speaking of supermarket, we decided to eat in last night (we had brunch at a tapas place in old town), so we stocked up on some basic groceries with two small trips to the store. The store was interesting in that we had to do a bit of translation to figure out what things were. (Aside: just for anyone who hasn't heard, both Michelle and I took French in school, not Spanish like every other kid in the US, so Spanish is still pretty new to us.) After struggling through "washing up liquid" (dish soap) and the like, we managed to grab mostly normal things, except for our pasta sauce which struck us as kind of odd, but ended up being quite tasty, if very plain.

On the topic of language, we've been trying to use our limited Spanish skills and at least make an effort. I'm very much looking forward to getting better and eager to learn another language, even if only on a limited basis. Two things to look out for, though, if you're ever getting a place in another country -- the actual contract and, if you have a furnished place, the inventory. It's not that I didn't think that they would be in Spanish, but it just did not cross my mind that we would run into them, I guess. The contract was easy enough -- simple terms, plus our realtor knew limited English and could explain simple things like "no sublet" in words we could understand. For the inventory, though, we had to sign on the spot when we got into the apartment, and unfortunately the list was only in Spanish. We went through the major items -- TV, couch, fridge, oven, microwave, range, coffee pot, etc., but I'm hoping to go through the rest like cups, plates, etc. before tomorrow so we can raise an issue if anything is missing. Our travel Spanish guide was not too much help in this regard ("One plastic fountain"... We have a fountain? Oh, must mean this water pitcher.) Of course, our book has all kinds of useful words that we'll run into, most of which did not help us with the inventory, like moat (foso), sexy (sexy), guilty (culpable), and rectum (recto). What kind of trip are you on when those words are useful to you?

Well, that's about all for now. I've embedded some photos above, but if you want to check out the sets we've uploaded so far, we have:

Moving out of DC
Arrival in Marbella
First day in Marbella

Welcome to our new travel blog! We're starting this as we are about to take a big step and live overseas for the first time. We're moving out of our apartment in Washington, DC this Saturday and flying to Málaga, Spain next week to stay in Marbella for a few months. Chances are, if you are reading this, then you already know this and want to stay updated on what's going on from here on out. And if you've just stumbled upon this blog, then welcome!

First off, a map. That's the south of Spain, with Portugal to the west, all of Spain and then France to the north and east, and the Mediterranean and, on the other side, Morocco, to the south.

This is a Pretty Big Deal™ for us since we've never lived outside the US. We've both travelled a fair amount -- all around the US and internationally, Michelle has been to Canada, Scotland, England, France, and Italy; I've been to Canada, Mexico, Spain, and Germany; and we've both been to Greece and Turkey for our honeymoon. But I feel that for many Americans, it's kind of intimidating to get up and move overseas, particularly years after college when you've started to put down roots. Many times I've driven through ten or more states on a single trip, so it's going to be amazing to be able to travel a bit in an area of the world where many nations come together.

It's our intention to keep traveling as long as we can since neither of us feels it's time to buy a house and settle in just yet. Though, don't get me wrong -- we'd love to have a house right about now, particularly after nearly three years in DC in a city apartment! But for right now, we're still exploring.

And since you're here, reading this now, you can join us! We'll be posting photos, stories, maps, and pretty soon, info on how you can visit.

So, stay tuned. And once again, welcome!