My inevitable return to Spain...where the travel addiction started. I knew back in February when I went with the highschool students that I'd have to get back north to see all the places and faces I'd been missing for 3 years now. Although there were many more I'd have loved to see, I am incredibly happy and blessed to have reunited with the ones that I did. Joining me on this fast-paced venture though Spain was my lovely boyfriend, Nate. He took some time off of work to follow his crazy girlfriend around her favorite country. I'm not sure he was made entirely aware of exactly what it would it would entail to "vacation" with me in places I've lived in and loved on so much. I said no to things like naps, swimming in hotel pools, sleeping in, and (sometimes) sitting down. I was on a mission, and whether or not he was prepared, Nate was along for the ride. He smartly let me choose our first night's dinner in Alicante, knowing that I'd eaten nearly everything on the menu at least once before. Here we are with some ensaladilla rusa, chorizo, and patatas con alioli. Also, his wine was cheaper than my water. He's the smart one in this duo.
Alicante is a city that neither of us had ever been to. I thought it'd be a little adventure to try something new. Considering the season, the beach seemed like the perfect place. The walkway along the beach was mesmorizing. Both from above and at eye level, the cubes seemed to be 3D. It made walking slightly more difficult than normal, perhaps due to my concentration on the blocks. There were palm trees, perfectly smooth sand, and clear water. Families set up their own umbrellas, brought food and bottles of wine and beer, and made a day of the beach. We decided to swim, as well, and found the water to be almost as warm as the air. The view from the water was also fantastic... a huge jagged hill made of rock with a castle on the top made it difficult for us to want to leave the water. However, fears of our things being stolen off the beach eventaully dragged us to land.
This is the rock though from a different vantage point. Nate saw an enormous ship parked along the edge of the port and had to get inside. The entrance fee came along with a free drink and so I was fairly agreeable. The views from the boat were great, as was much of the boat itself. It had all been redone, and so the decks were littered with bar stools, umbrellas, and loveseats. Nonetheless, it was a beautiful boat and kept our interest for long enough that we missed enough daylight and never made it up the hill to the castle. We did take an online virtural tour, though, and so I feel as if I've nearly visited there.
Walking around the city at night gave the whole place an entirely different feel. During the day, the beach felt like resort town and the town felt empty and cold. At night, the lights made everything feel exciting. This plaza, I'm sure, would have been far less enticing during daylight hours, but at this time, I found it completely enchanting. There were vines growing over the walkways' arches, a dark but bright blue light still pouring through the leaves of the trees, and this fountain here in the back, making it feel a little like Rome.
I loved our relaxing time in Alicante, but I feel like we did a great job of seeing and doing what we wanted while there, and I'm happy to cross it off my list in favor of a new and possibly more exciting place.
Next up: el norte. The only way to visit both Alicante and my beloved north was to spend an entire day doing some mid-trip traveling. An 8 hour train ride through Spain was not as awful as I had first imagined it would be. Nate and I kept ourselves entertained with old Are You Afraid of the Dark episodes, logic puzzles, wine in the cafeteria, and views like this. I was sure Nate would love the north, if only for the green mountains between our destinations...and I think I was right.
At the end of our (very) long ride, we pulled up to a place that felt so incredibly familiar: Oviedo. While I was living in León, I visited here often, and so it no longer feels quite like home, but more like a neighbor: a place that makes me feel comfortable and content. One of our first visits in this city had to be the giant "culo". I know it's night time, but take a close look and you'll see that the statue is exactly what it looks like. Nate's at the bottom of the long legs, looking like a model. The people of Oviedo were, apparently, appaled at first when this statue was brought into the center of town. Now, people refer to it casually and often, making plans to meet there. The beloved culo.
Just because it's the place in Spain whose claim to fame is sidra (cider)...because otherwise I'd never need to drink this again. To be honest, I have never ever liked the taste, but I love the atmosphere that comes along with it. We went to the famous "Calle Gascona" and sat at my favorite old spot to share a bottle. Nate claimed "I've made cider just like this before! And I threw it out because I thought it had gone bad!" Perhaps it's his calling to move to Oviedo and make cider for these lovely folk. They'd have appreciated his cider-making skills.
The next day, I was nervously anticipating a visit with my long lost Spanish momma. I'd seen her a few times since I had lived with her. I spent Christmas with her the year I lived in León and visited as often as I could while we were 1.5 hours away. Since I've moved back to NY, she has had some health issues and is no longer able to talk on the phone. I was worried I wouldn't be able to see her, and once plans were made, I was worried she wouldn't remember who I was. Her son, Carlos, helped us arrange to see her and brought us up into her apartment, in which I have so many fond memories. When he called her name, she turned around with a serious looking face, but upon catching my eyes, she pulled what seemed to be an amazingly sincere and happy smile. She hugged and kissed me, but was able to say very little. We sat next to each other and she seemed happy for the company and the visit. It was wonderful to see her. She taught me more in the short time I lived with her than most people will teach you in a lifetime. I'd prefer to remember her at a happier time, when she was increidbly vibrant: cooking, cleaning, talking your ear off, talking whether you understood or not, walking to the grocery store, laughing all day. But I'm thrilled to have seen her this way, too. If only to remind her that I still think about her all the time.
What's a visit to Oviedo without seeing David? Listening to Nate and David switch between broken Spanish and English all night was wonderful. People can be friends whether or not they speak the same language. I'm sure of it. I think that you can tell so much about a person from their demeanor, tone, gestures, facial expressions, and their willingness to try to communicate. Here we are at my favorite meeting place from study abroad: La gorda. David had the longest arms and was nominated to take this wonderful selfie. A night to remember.
And here she is....back in León! The very reason for this humble blog. I had missed dear Gaudí, the tapas, the cathedral, my apartment, the sights and sounds and views and smells. All of it. It's so strange to miss a place so much and then return to find it so unchanged. It feels like time was paused here while I was gone. It's nice to know that it's waiting for me...even if it'll take more than 3 years for me to get back the next time. Even Gaudí was waiting for me, still drawing out the same plans he was years ago for his famous palace "Casa de Botines". I know it doesn't look like it, but I think he missed me, too. He's just a very busy man.
Though its true that the city itself would have been alluring enough to merit a visit, the people there are what made the year so memorable. My most lovely foreign friends are among those that I count as my true leoneses, but they have moved on, too. One of them I'll be finding in Chicago later this month...you can't stay away from friends like that for too long.
And here above are some Spaniards who showed me patience, friendship, and so much love. Marta, Antonio, and Diego playing "La rana" and beating me so badly. I've never seen the game before, and should have been given a handicap, but these kids are ruthless. Now I remember how they never let me win at Go Fish when I used to tutor them. They haven't changed a bit. Antonio is one of the teachers I knew from the school I worked at. He often took us on adventures in and around León and graced us with his lovely presence at café time every day during school.
My Spanish babies! I liked working in León, but highschool was definitely not for me. The time I spent tutoring these two every week made me sure that I'd have to come back and teach little ones. Marta and Diego and I played so many games and had so many laughs. They met a few of my visiting friends during the year and always asked me about life in Buffalo. I have kept in touch a bit with them since I left, but I was worried they wouldn't really remember me. As I got out of the car I heard yelling "LEIGH!! LEIGH!!"...and that stopped the nerves right there. They looked so much the same, but so much bigger. Their English had improved and they could say full sentences to me and Nate. Their wonderful momma couldn't stop hugging and kissing me and their dad took so so many photos (When I get those I'll have to add them). I immediately felt like I had never left...like I was a part of their family...like they had been waiting for me, too. And in fact, they said they had been. I said to their mom "I promised you I'd be back to visit!" and her response was "But why did it take you so long!?".
Here's Nate at their house in the village. We played Marco Polo in the pool and I couldn't stop laughing. The boys played foosball. We played cards and "La rana" and ate a delicious and very Spanish homemade meal. We stayed up late talking and playing and having the best day. I went to bed feeling like I was the happiest girl in the world: I can't imagine anyone every feeling better than that. It was the perfect day.
Even though we'd spent the previous night with this caballero, it just wasn't enough. The next day we met for tapas at our old meeting place right next to the highschool. He has since promised to visit us next, but he laid out some conditions: he must get a ride in Nate's red Ford pick-up...in the bed. I'm only sad that I missed out on hugging his lovely partner in crime, Amor, who I love dearly. We'll have to find another place and another time.
Walking around León brought back a million memories...too many to share. I was quiet for much of the walk, overwhelmed by my own thoughts and flashbacks. Nate was very patient listening to my sudden outbursts "Oh! My apartment!...the store I bought bread at!...the last place I ever saw my friend Sarah...the way I walked to work!" It surely could not have meant much to him, but it was interesting to share my world here with him, and now when I refer back to it, he'll have an image in mind. Above, I am standing outside my old apartment entrance. Luckily no one walked in or out, as they might have thought I was some misinformed tourist. No no, just creeping on my little old entryway.
The plaza mayor in León.
Nate asked for a nap. This time, I felt like I should give him some
slack. He had, afterall, had gracefully endured 4 mostly-Spanish-speaking dates with me and
agreed to every single thing I'd wanted to do the entire trip. He had woken up earlier and walked further than he had wanted to nearly every day. It was
his turn for a good old-fashioned siesta. However, I was not willing to
participate. I had other plans in mind. A quick stop at the Chino shop,
the candy store, the grocery store, and the bakery. I walked down and
around the main streets, pretending I still lived there, remembering
what it felt like to belong in that city. I came back with quite a stash.
I know my Spanish has changed since I left, and likely sounds much more Puertorican than Castillian, and I was also using an american credit card, so I can understand the confusion of the cashier at the local grocery store when I pulled out my shoppers club card. She looked at the card, and then at me. I smiled. She'll never understand.
I returned to napping Nate who was awakened to this sight. I'd found one of my favorite pastries: una napolitana filled with chocolate. Good thing he woke up in time, or he would have never stolen that single bite of his.
I brought Nate down to the river in León. Partly for the view, and partly because I wanted to hang this lock here. I've seen bridges littered with locks like these in both Paris and Bilbao, but it was never the right plae or the right person. Now it's locked in a place I'm sure to get back to with this guy. Some day.
See why he's a keeper? ..... it's the raccoon wearing a bandana on his shirt.
Nate loved León for one very specific reason: TAPAS. Free tapas. Delcious tapas. Day and night tapas. We hit most of my old favorite places: El rebote/croquetas, Jamón Jamón/jamón y queso, Pizzería la competencia/pizza con jamón, El Bacanal/patatas fritas con jamón, El llar/patatas con alioli & alitas de pollo. The two big themes here are: jamón (ham) and patatas (potatoes). We've developed a loving relationship with each.
Break time at the MUSCA contemporary art museum. The exhibitions seeemed strange and so we opted for some photos with the facade instead. I have a big print of this building and its colored windows hanging in my bedroom at home. It was so good to be back.
Post-tapa fun. At this point I'd eaten all my favorite tapas, ending with a banana nutella crepe. I was (as you can see) a bit excited about life and food and León. Nate played along. Really, I think he had a great time.
A collage of all the places surrounding my old apartment...the ones I saw every day. It was so exciting to be there, and so hard to leave. This was the one stop I could have stayed at longer, for sure. I may have cried a bit as we walked home that last night, but I know it's not the last time. I can't stay away.
Last stop: Madrid. At Retiro Park...we thought about taking a boat ride, but that just never pans out for me. I'm starting to think it's just not meant to be. A good walk around the pond will have to suffice.
The last night we took an 11:15 pm reseravation at the Oldest Restaurant in the World: Restaurante Botín, established in 1725. I can thank Nate for this one. He had seen suckling pig on the food channel and was eager to try it somewhere famous. Luckily, this place fit the bill. It was old, beautiful, authentic feeling, had Spanish musicians, delicious food, and...suckling pig. Of course. It was a great way to end one of my all time favorite trips. I'd do it again. Or maybe somewhere different next time...Nate?
