Point2Point

MADRID:
Madrid was my first stop over. Of course the bags and plane were delayed. But my friend waited patiently at arrivals for me with his daughter. We went to their central Madrid apartment where I stayed for two nights. I must honestly say I never felt so welcomed into a home as I did in Madrid.

Madrid had not changed much, but it was different seeing it with a "Madrid" family in their little car. I must say I really am getting addicted to pickled vegetables in Spain, forget he Paella, give me the gherkins.

So onto the travelling... My Friend called a hostel for me in Granada, the one place that alluded me in my previous travels in Spain. I knew things were not right when he handed me the phone and said "They do not speak Spanish?!!" Hmm, I took the phone and spoke to an American with a name like "Mythus" or something equally new age. I asked for a dorm room for the next day...it took the guy 3 minutes of audio able page turning to tell me he couldn't understand the calendar! hmm, but at least he said their was a hammock on the terrace.

I booked myself into a little pension in down town Granada, twice the price, but it was what I needed at this point. Visions of beer swilling "Bongs" and scantly clad GAP students was not on my list of priorities. Well, in hindsight maybe a scantly glad boxom beauty of a GAP student in my private pension room might have been the tonic I needed.

From the Bus I waved goodbye to my adopted Madrid family (ok I am getting a little carried away about the family, but they were very nice), and then I was off on my own again. I had the seat row to myself for the whole 6 hour journey, that is until the second stop when a severely hungover Spanish version of a GAP student collapsed into the seat beside me.

GRANADA:

My Spanish, sucks, but with my LP at my side and hotel.com directions on an adopted madrid familys print out map, I could have made it to the hotel without speaking a word. But of course I got a little lost, not much. But enough to let me find the tourist information office and get a better map, the hotel was of course across the road.

Granada was full of tourists of course. But as the 3pm temperature hit 40 degrees, I found myself revelling in the humid-less sunshine. By day one I had already seen the main sights. The Alhambra being the main attraction, but this is what devastated me. Such a place, and such a tourist supermarket. Car parks, pre-booking, lots of cash, and regulations. I hated it, without even seeing it!

Then as I started the long slow self doubting walk down the hill, I veered off into a forested path. A few couples were ahead of me rushing to an unknown place as the sun started to set. This is always a good clue to a good place to see. I followed the path to a large series of fort buildings, and yes I will admit it did take me quite a while to figure out this was the Alahambra. But how did I get in for free?? It clicked as I passed some large closed doors, with the sound of running water inside - they were paying to get inside. I felt a little better, I was able to see something without joining the tourist race. Looking inside was not a big thing, after all it was Muslim influenced and I had already visited several impressive Islamic sites in the past. I returned to my Air conditioned single room, reduced the temperature some more and headed off to sleep a little more at peace with the world.

After a brief phone call to my good friend in Barcelona I was told a car was being rented to take me on a camping trip up the costa brava, and I had to get there fast. hmmmm, it was Saturday, and I had no intention of rushing up that weekend as I new what the hectic Barcelona night-life was like. Monday would do. Valencia could wait, it wasn't a big thing, only the lure of the holy grail as recognised by the Vatican. And well my ever reliable Italian friend was jobless and I was sure would love the prospect of a trip to the south again. So, yes, No Valencia. After finding out there were no spaces on the train I booked an 11hour (it took 14hours, stopping every 2 hours) bus trip direct to Barcelona that Sunday night arriving the next morning. I then spent the day shopping around for some snack food and headed up to a site across from the Alhambra to watch the sun setting on the magnificent building. Guitars played in the background, people sang, and I jostled for a place to perch for the best photograph of the sunset strewn building. It was a 3.5 hour photo shoot, filled with Serrano, tropical juice and cruncy bread sticks. Mission accomplished, I was happy. I returned to the main town square whereby I stumbled upon an entertaining street comedian which really made my night. One big Pizza later, and it was back to bed.

I slept in as much as possible, it was my last sleep in for a while. I left my baggage with the nice hotel people and headed out. One problem, it was Sunday, and that meant all of Granada was closed minus the touristy places. It was a scorcher of a day. So I decided to make it a reading day as I had seen what I wanted to. I lay like a homeless / derelict dude across a stone seat near an aqua fountain reading about an intrepid adventurer in Afganistan. Yes I was bored. I ate a big lunch, read some more. And headed back to the hotel to collect my bags and have a drink before heading to the bus station. This is of course the dilemma of travelling, I arrive to the hotel bar only to meet a very nice Australian guy full of chat and living in Granada as he attempts to solve the meaning of his life. This and the ample bosomed and friendly bar girl made me have faint recollections of one's last night in otherwise solitary trip. If only I had been leaving he next day or met them the day before.... 4 beers and one very large cognac later and I was on a bus to Barcelona. With a seat to my self for a least part of the journey.

BARCELONA:

Well what can I say about the place I really have mixed feelings for. I spent a month in BCN 2.5 years ago, had all my vaccinations there, and had a great time. Though did end up tearing the back of leg in a bad nightclub dance move kinda situation. It should take little explanation to say what it is like living in BCN with Italian girls. And that's who I was staying with, my good Italian adventure loving friend.To explain the mentality or thought process of my Italian friend is somewhat perplexing, after all she is my very good friend. Life awakens at between 10-12am, breakfast is a mere cafe solo, internet for at least 2-3 hours, beach until 6pm, siesta until 9pm, leave for dinner 10pm, somehow go to sleep by 3am minimum. And of course plans changed every 1 hour, so sufficed to say, no car trip this week. Everyday. I struggled, my still bloated stomach and Field & trek looks brought shame to my concious. I went out and bought a new t shirt, and jeans. It was now I felt it hard to interact with people, especially since I speak not one word of Italian. But the people were good to me and I enjoyed.

Our car trip finally happened 2.5 weeks later, and yes it was good. We travelled up the Costa Brava and into France, camping along the way and having a mini adventure.

But during this time I was really torn apart by many things. My next destination was Stuttgart to visit another old friend. Why oh Why do Eurolines Suck???? If I want a flight to anywhere in the world I can log into anything up to 20 websites in most main international languages and pick a route. But with Eurolines, NO. They do not have a central timetable route website, instead you must log onto an individual countries website. Which means to go from BCN to Stuttgart means I have to be able to read Spanish, or from say Germany to Poland you need to read German (though the german website does offer an English translated page. Ok, time out here -- I do not think all should be in English, but I do think a "Euro" transport company should offer a translation in at least four of the main travellers language, Spanish, French, German, English, and for sure have a central website!!! -- All this and the ticket would cost me 107 Euro while a Germanwings plane ticket would cost only 67Euro?!! What to do? Pay the extra head off on a 24 hour trip, or pay less for a 2 hour flight? It took me days to answer this. And in the end I bought a plane ticket.... and yes I do regret it. . . Anyone with half a brain could book themselves across Europe one way or another, no big deal. But to fly... somehow it seems to take a little out of my trip for me... still as I right this there are still a few hours left and anything can happen to change a plan...

UPDATE:

Ok, ye God's above looked down up my mere guilt ridden concious; weighted down by a ticket-less Germanwings flight and yes they did act upon this and smitten my friend with an illness forcing a gallant traveller to... Well, ok my friend got sick, I took her to hospital and as luck would have it missed the flight. I stayed the night up with her as she removed the contents of stomach over and over and over again... went through the wonderful process of Spanish hospital hospitality and stayed the next 24 hours with her recovering self. The burden of a budget concious flight removed and a quick trip to Eurolines (don't mention the war) led to the discovery that they had two 97 Euro tickets left...