Leaving. Again, and again, and again, and two more times

I leave tonight for Barcelona! Here's how my vacation's going to go for the next 12 days:

Plane from Granada to Barcelona. 5 days rest/sightseeing/spending money.

Plane from Barcelona to Paris. 3 days frenching it up.

Plane from Paris to London. 4 days with the Queen and her dogs, not to mention quality time with Jenny (good friend from summer camp)!

Plane from London to Madrid. No rest, frantically searching for bus station for 2 hours.

Bus from Madrid to Granada. Sleep the day away above the barking Chihuahua that lives to raise my blood pressure.

Wish me luck, send me some prayers, and cross your fingers for my survival!

1. Lady and her goat

2. MaryPat and I on our one-humped camels!

Tangiers
Toledo

Hey All!

Hello everone! Sorry it's been soooooo looooong, like almost 2 weeks--a very busybusy two weeks in the land of Spain. After Toledo, I bummed around Madrid for two days; I went to the Prado Museum, the Palacio Real (amazing royal rooms, lots of matching carpet and wallpaper), and to a bunch of cave-like Sangria bars, as Madrid is renowned for the drink. I had a blast even though I was tired all weekend and deprived of cleanliness (no shower for 3 days, I'm very green).

This was also my first real hostel experience, and it was not too shabby. Four of us shared a room, got free breakfast, met a bunch of foreign people, and made all of our own food in the hostel kitchen (mostly a mishmash of sauteed veggies, pasta, and tomatoes. And BREAD, obviously).

Then, crazy traveling lady that I am, I went on a group excursion to Morocco, and after a 3 hour bus ride, 1 hour ferry ride, and another 1 hour bus ride, we spent the first night in our lightless hotel, watching tv in English for the first time all trip! The next day beat me to the ground. We first went to the typical town of Tetuán. All I remember about this place was the stinky market, ready-for-slaughter chickens roaming the streets, and the 2 hour-long prison-like carpet show. Shuffled into a rug store with promises of clean bathrooms, we were pretty much forced to listen to this carpet salesman tell us how great his carpets were as he pulled out around 100 different Persian and Berber handmade carpets, inviting us to "take a feel, it very nice." I wanted to take a feel of his face with my shoe. I was so angry we had to sit there for that long-bored, hungry, tired, low on money anyway, and annoyed.

After that disappointing morning, we did get to go to Tangiers, the beautiful town where the Mediterranean Sea and Atlantic Ocean meet. Instead of going into the rest stop area, however, I decided to climb down the steep, muddy mountain (ruining my Sperrys-sorry mom), till I the sea swallowed me up. Then I swam back to Spain. Just kidds, but I did get to linger on a cliff overlooking the tumbling waves and smell the salt. It was magical after such a crummy morning.

The next day, though, was completely different. When we finally got to the mountain village of Chefchouen, sick from the winding mountain highway, it was an amazing day. Composed of smooth, blue-washed homes and a clear mountain stream, it was what anyone would want in a Mediterranean town. Except for the vendors smothering me as I walked through the narrow streets, it was a perfect day.

More later folks. Love and besos