Oops!

Life's been pretty ocupado recently and sadly I've neglected to record my adventures here.  I thought a pictorial summary of my experiences this semester would be a good way of making up for lost blog posts.

Snowshoeing in Fuente Dé

epic views en Los Picos de Europa 

Sun-filled San Vincente

moments of hysteria and gorgeous sunshine atop the hill (photos by E.C.)

Beaches, friends, nights out + a healthy dose of Vitamin D

yoga/make-yourself-look-conspicuous-in-public practice (photos by L. Y.)

Triángulo de Amor Bizarro gig + dancey dancey @ la discoteca (photos by L. Y.)

It's safe to say that my Year Abroad just gets better as time goes on; it's not been a total dream, certainly, but during this semester I've had some really beautiful experiences, met lots of new & lovely people and learnt un montón más del Español!

I'm back

Change is happening! Having been wrenched from what was one of the best Christmas and New Years that I have had yet, my mind for the first two days back was firmly set to ‘take me home’ mode. It took me about a week to truly settle in to the swing of Torrelavega life again and now that I have, I’ve noticed a few changes in my perception of my year abroad.

I'm no longer feeling that dreadful, heavy weight of homesickness that seemed to squash me throughout my first term here. I was having fun, yes, but at the same time I kept looking back at things going on with my British friends and wishing that I could join in. But now it seems that I no longer pine so intensely for home comforts. I continue to miss my friends and family hugely and there are still low points where I yearn to be back, but altogether I have lost that persistent ache to be surrounded by all things familiar. I imagine that this is in part due to my return to the UK where I realised that it does fact still exist and that I am not entirely removed from life there. It's also come from a renewed enthusiasm and love for my job, for travelling, for improving my Spanish and for trying new things.

The main downside of my experience here is, er, the downpour. We have rain in the UK, boy do we have it, but Cantabría has it's own unique type of precipitation; intense and heavy, the kind of short bursts that soak right through your jeans and freeze your legs. As a part-time language assistant with a lot of free time on my hands and the desire to explore, this kind of weather is less than helpful. I'm crossing all my metaphorical fingers that this constant rain will subside soon because when it does this place really comes alive with people and beauty.

a rare, rain-less day in Santander!

things I have learnt so far: Part 3

One more before hometime:

I am a tall Spanish woman

If I was a Spanish woman, that is. At home I'm pretty average height wise at 5'6" but here that seems to be towards the tall end of the height spectrum. It's quite a strange feeling to walk around looking over the heads of, well, almost everyone apart from about 50% of the male population in Torre. It also leaves me feeling like a bit of an awkward giraffe-type creature in Zumba classes...but it's fine, I just stand far away from the mirror and then I'm the same size as everyone else.

Spanish dogs are way more hilarious than UK mutts

Not sure why. Maybe it's because they're all pretty tiny and therefore not the brightest of animals. Anyway, my flatmate and I have spent a good percentage of our free time in muffled laughter at a passing pug-crossed-with-large-guinea-pig dressed in a Messi football tee or, even better (worse) still, a purple puffa jacket complete with fur-lined hood.

I still don't quite know how to order food or drink in Spanish

And yes, I know, this is one of the first things you are taught when learning a new language - how to say 'I would like...' and 'how much is...?' and 'the bill please'. Turns out, however, that regurgetating your old GCSE Spanish phrases in a restaurant/bar/cafe makes you sound as posh as voluntarily attending a regatta. On asking for 'the bill please' we would invariably be met with, yep, the bill, but also a slight smirk flitting across the waiters' respective mouths. Thankfully the guys in our local café informed us that it is more usual to say 'how much do I owe you?' or even, 'charge me'. Imagine saying either in a British eatery; one sounds too familiar, the other plain rude. Thus I've discovered the added difficulty of trying to find the appropriate words in the particular context in order to avoid sounding like a div, a problem that I hadn't really got the hang of in my own language let alone prepared myself for before moving here.

Commerical breaks: long, boring and sporadic

"See you in 8 minutes" chirps the TV part way through an exchange of dialogue between Ted and Barney in Cómo conocí a vuestra madre. After this substantial length of time watching five adverts about five different brands of yoghurt all claiming immediate (and seemingly extreme) constipation relief, the programme returns only to be interrupted just 10 minutes later for a "2 minute break"! Pattern or purpose? I see neither.

Alternative music has yet to arrive in Santander..!?

I should emphasise that this is from my experience anyway, so perhaps I'm not looking in the right places. However, after a conversation with a friend from Santander itself I'm led to believe that my experience has been pretty accurate. The standard musical repertoire in a club goes like this: Europop, Pitbull, Europop ft. Pitbull and maybe, maybe, a bit of Reggaeton. So far disappointing, but I'm still on the hunt as I'm fairly sure I've yet to explore even a quarter of the bars and clubs that the city has to offer. On the up side, Torre's nightlife often offers something at least more diverse (if not my typical cup o' tea), with clubs like En Vivo holding rock music nights and the rest of the town providing various live music events if you take the time to look for them.

un finde como madrileña

So after recovering from what can only be described as one hellish week of lying in horizontal agony drugged up on antibiotics, I was recuperada and ready to make the five hour coach journey with my flatmate down to Spain's centre, Madrid, to see some much missed uni friends! A LOT much got packed into that short stay so here's an attempt to summarize:

I'm a bit 'meh' about zoos: whilst I'm lucky to have Marwell as my nearest one at home, there are plenty of crap ones to disappoint you; Barcelona for example, was a major mammalian fail. Plus I'm reluctant to go to zoos that fail to support wildlife conservation and all that. The Zoo/Aquarium in Madrid is thankfully a pretty awesome one! I saw a baby panda for the first time in my life, got extremely close to a rhinoceros (funny spelling, always think that) and a pair of lopey, mopey brown bears. 

some dear deer whatsits

'mingos chillin'

So in conclusion, if you like your zoos, don't bother with the one in Barcelona cos it's pretty naff.

The rest of my weekend was spent running around attempting as much site-seeing as possible in the little time we had (and as much as we could manage whilst nursing a hangover from a particularly alcoholic night out on Friday).

Exploring the neighbourhood of Malasaña was a highlight for me; a cramped network of alleyways and narrow roads offering a glut of hipster boutiques, bars and alternative cafés. I could have spent a week in that area alone, so definitely an excuse to go back!

on the streets of malasaña

One beautiful, blue-skied evening was spent wandering around el Parque del Buen Retiro, Madrid's main park, eventually perching ourselves on monument steps to watch couples rowing boats upon a lake of liquid mercury in the dusky light.

sunset at al parque del buen retiro

The weekend also included an awesome gig and a last day visit to a huge, three storey bookshop in which I could've spent more than a day lost between its bookshelves...(another excuse to come back!)

It was great to escape Torre and venture to a big city and I felt the contrast between the small town quietude of Cantabria and the hectic rush of Spain's capital hugely. On my return I found myself both missing the buzz and bustle of Madrid as well appreciating the peace of a small town all the more!

a note to Jacques Yves Cousteau

Quería escribir esta entrada en español, pese a los varios errores gramaticales y la expresión torpe que seguramente seguirán. Quería escribirlo así porque me gustaría expresar mi pasión por, y mi delicia en, la costa de este parte del país en palabras que reflejan un lado distinto de yo mismo, uno más pensativo, emotivo, y menos analítico que qué pienso que lo suele expresar mi propio uso de mi lengua nativa.

En realidad no he explorado tanto de las playas de Cantabria, pero puedo decir sin duda que lo que sí he visto me ha dado más felicidad y tranquilidad que todas las otras experiencias que he tenido aquí hasta ahora. 

La semana pasado tenía mi primera clase de surf española, en que pude revisar todo de lo que podía recordar de las clases en Boscombe hace un año además de aprender un montón de cosas nuevas, no solo de mi técnica sino también del movimiento de las olas, cómo funciona el oleaje y cómo el cuerpo humano consume la energía durante hacer ejercicio. Era una experiencia genial que no veo la hora de repetir!

Lo que me encanta de esta costa también es la falta de gente, particularmente durante esta temporada; como me hago mayora me doy cuenta de que, mientras que siempre me ha considerado alguien extrovertido, me consuela enormemente en estar sola, ya sea entre una multitud de gente o en una playa vacía. Aquí no hay turistas ni personas por lo general, ya que el tiempo es demasiado incómodo para hacer un poco de baño de sol. La inhospitalidad de esas playas me recuerda de Poole dónde vive mi abuelo así que me ofrece mucho consuelo.

I wanted to write this entry in Spanish, despite the various grammatical errors and clumsy language that will surely ensue. I wanted to write it so because I’d like to express my passion for, and my delight in, the coast of this part of this country in words that reflect a different side to me, one that is more pensive, emotional and less analytical than what I think I tend to express through my own use of my native language.

In reality I haven’t explored the Cantabrian beaches so much but I can say without a doubt that what I have seen has offered me more happiness and peave than all the other experiences that I’ve had here so far.

Last week I had my first Spanish surf lesson, wherein I could go over all that I could remember from lessons in Boscombe last year as well as learning a load of new things, not only to do with my technique but also of the movement of the waves, how swell work and how the human body consumes energy whilst exercising. It was a great experience that I can’t wait to repeat!

What I also love about this coastline is the lack of people, particularly during this season; as I get older I realise that, whilst I’ve always considered myself an extroverted person, I gain huge comfort in being alone, whether than be amidst a crowd of people or on an empty beach. Here there are no tourists nor people in general since the weather is too uncomfortable to do a spot of sunbathing. The inhospitality of these beaches reminds me of Poole where my Grandad lives and thus offers me much comfort.

things I have learnt so far: Part 2

it's your Birthday? Great, buy me a drink!

to my eyes it's a very positive aspect of Spanish culture, their pleasure in giving and sharing things. And it's not just with material things; I have never encountered such willingness to help one out through the sharing of knowledge, from my estate agents' recommendations and tour of the best bakeries in Torre to my surf instructor's thorough, detailed explanation of tidal movements and coastal features. They love it, they love sharing stories and giving things so much that they will use any excuse (birthdays, weddings, sister's wedding, birthday 2 months ago) to bring in cakes/wine/chocolates and home-made tortillas...the only downfall is that on your birthday it is you that foots the bill and buys the drinks. At least it only happens once a year eh, har har.

personal space is not a "thing"

or at least the permitted personal space allowance per individual is greatly reduced from what I'm used to in the UK; in various situations I have found myself close enough to be inspect the pores of my fellow converser. However, I'm learning to appreciate the feeling of confidence that it so expresses as well as the generally more physical nature of Spanish social interaction interaction. No longer do I lean back slightly when greeted by people with a kiss on each cheek; on the contrary, I've found the less you resist all this intimacy the more you acknowledge its value as an exchange of trust and friendship.

neither is brown eye make up

exemplified by both my housemate and my extreme difficulty in finding any in the shops. Rachel tells me her experience of being met with blank expressions or of surprise when requesting this elusive object. The style of make up here is black, black, black and a little bit more black. Which looks lovely on Spanish skin but a bit vampiric on Rach and my paler, rosier complexion.

english language music is v. popular

but they don't understand the words. For example, TV shows/ads frequently use songs with vaguely inappropriate lyrics or by musicians whose accompanying culture is at complete odds to that of the show - 'Californication' and Avril Lavigne play in the background of a documentary about Cantabrian livestock whilst the explicit version of Cyrus' 'We Can't Stop' bridges a segment in a day-time chat show. Bizarre, visual/audio juxtapositions galore.

someone saying "See you later" is more like someone saying "seyalaah"

"hasta luego" will be expressed "'stalogo", said rapidly and in passing to a neighbour or conocido. There are plenty of other interesting details of pronunciation that I'm learning, such as the Northern tendency to drop the 'd' in past perfect verbs. For example, "pasado" becomes "pasao", making it sound quite Portuguese or even Chilean (to my limited knowledge anyway!).

So there's a little update on some of the fascinating things I have noticed (or at least think I am noticing as it 

could well be all in my mind) from my time spent here. Expect more at some future date!

buenas vistas, thigh ache and one big rock

So off we speed in a big coach full of loudly excited Spanish teachers and their spouses whilst my friends and I are still wiping the sleep dust from our eyes. We're heading to Peña Sagra, a mountain nestled within a mountain range that borders los picos de Europa. After a couple of hours of zooming down country lanes and round the feet of several great, grey mountains, our walk beings on an challenging upward incline; I can already tell that this isn't going to be some kind of countryside stroll!

we were just getting going and yet check out the views!

The journey up is arduous but satisfying as we're almost immediately greeted by beautiful views of the surrounding mountains. After a little while I spot a few deer high up the side of the mountain and realise how glad I am to be outside and away from Torre; it's not like I dislike living in a city but I always feel more "myself" when I'm away from all the people and noise of urban living. The Spanish group who we're with are so friendly, interesting and interested in ourselves. It's always great when my tendency to pigeonhole 'the Spanish' as a loud, showy lot is debunked from conversation with actual individual Spanish people.

break time: "say 'Buuuugle'!"

After a quick break we continue on up where the incline becomes suddenly more sheer and precarious. It's tiring work but throughout the journey I'm stunned by panoramic views of both the Cantabrian coast and the stark, desolate outline of los picos. Following a tricky route over an area giant, eroding rocks, we've finally reached the top! The view, well, here's some shots from the top:

endless sky

feeling pretty pleased with ourselves!

jus' chillin' on this big ol' rock

...pretty amazing! The descent, as always, is the less enjoyable part of our journey and the next day my legs were scratched and burning from an hour of uncomfortable stumbling/near-tripping down a steep incline covered in pricky gorse. After the momentary trapse through gorse hell, however, the rest of the journey was lovely and full of wildlife - including wild horses - and lots of farm animals towards the foot of the mountain.

After approx seven hours of hiking we were rewarded with a stop at the nearest bar, where we enjoyed bowls of unshelled walnuts - lots of fun had trying to work out how to actually open them - and huge 1.5 pints of cerveza! 'Salud' to an awesome day!

relishing that sit down like no one's biz