27 Septiembre 2007, Jueves
I am in love with Spanish cine…especially my 9 AM class. How many college students can say that? My teacher, Luis Navarrete, is fabulous. He is a thirtysomething Sevillano who is obviously a film director, judging from the passion which he possesses when describing Spanish film. He is also the head of the Sevillana film jury, and apparently, Sevilla has a large film festival coming up….to which we all get into free!!! Free!!! Gratis!!! He began by explaining the differences between Spanish and American film, Spanish film is an expression of the director and has nothing to do with the actors, which is the flip side of American film. We watched two short films…one, a classic, lasted only eight minutes, but was fabulous. The other, “El Censor,” reader, if you can google it, it is AMAZING…and half English, half Spanish with subtitles. It is worth your time. The short film is about a Spaniard who moves to America in the 70’s. Especially interesting for us, was the cultural relativism we could relate to, having lived in American and Spanish locales.
The first class ended a bit early, so Natalia and I decided to book it to catch the earlier train to Malaga. With only the bare necessities fitting into my purse, I could not wait for the aventura to begin. We made the train with five minutes to spare, and settled in for the two and a half hour paseo through the countryside of Andalucia. It was fabulous…we didn’t really have a plan except for to see the city, and had booked a hostel a few days before.
The first thing we did when we got to Malaga was (of course) go to H and M, which was in the train station/mall. After making the obligatory stop, we headed to a tourist booth to grab a map, and an internet café to find out the name and address of the hostel for future purposes (note to self: do this before leaving next time). In a few minutes we got hungry, so we settled down on a cute bench to eat our bocadillos that our Senora’s made. After successfully spilling coke all over myself and the ground, I dug into my sandwich, which was as usual, Spanish tortilla with this cardboard like circular bread. Needless to say, my Senora would benefit from learning how to make sandwiches properly. (but here, I am also feeling bitchy because of an argument I just had with her about calling time, but I stray….)
We walked. And walked. And mostly I took many pictures. We made it to the main street, equivalent to Avenida de la Constitucion in Sevilla, with a bunch of shops and cool buildings. We followed the tourist path described in the map through little cafes and strolling flamenco guitarists. (insert movie clip here). We reached the location of the famed cathedral and decided to check how much it would cost to go inside. As we approached the price list, we noticed a white piece of paper covering the prices which said “hoy gratis” (today free). With burgeoning incredulity, I asked the ticket taker what the deal was. He pointed to a poster which read: World Tourism Day- September 27, 2007 in Malaga every tourist attraction free, and guided tours. I could not believe my luck. The one random day I chose to go to Malaga…everything was FREE. Thank you Spain! We went inside the gothic cathedral which was gorgeous, as usual. I swear, I could not come to turns with our lucky stroke, and I’m sure, annoyed Natalia throughout the day by my thanking the World Tourism Day Gods for our luck.
Afterwards we strolled through some narrow streets to the Picasso museum and the house where Picasso was born. Since he was born here, (along with Antonio Banderas) there is Picasso stuff all over the place. Feeling a little burned out by all the touristy stuff by this point, we sat down for a drink and a tapa. (sangria and ensaladilla rusa). Ensaladilla rusa is the funniest thing…it is literally “Russian salad” and is exactly like “olivye,” a typical Russian dish. They Spanish it up by adding tuna, however.
Onwards we walked to the Alcazaba, an ancient Moorish castle and fortress. We climbed and climbed to the very top, stopping to take pictures of the gorgeous scenery from time to time. It was interesting that most of the tourists here were not American. In fact, we had a hard time communicating with some German tourists who we somehow asked to take a picture for us. They did not speak Russian/Spanish/English and we did not speak German so the language barrier was quite obvious and QUITE frustrating.
We also met some nice Irish ladies up at the top of the Alcazaba while glancing at the beautiful port in the Mediterranean and the charming plaza de toros. After shlepping all the way up (it’s at the top of a hill for fortification purposes) we decided to go check out our hostel.
We took a cab to the Melting Pot Hostel for Backpackers, and shlepped some more up some steps. The place was very reminiscent of the Hollywood Hills in the manner of how the houses are arranged on hills. As we walked in, there was eclectic music playing and a receptionist asked us for our passports, and we looked back at her in horror. Resolving the issue by using other forms of photo ID, I explored the hostel while Natalia dealt with the paperwork.
How do I describe this place? OK, imagine a couple of rooms with 4 bunk beds. Now imagine a small kitchen. Finally, imagine a living room with a small bar. Add some beads and hippie type artwork to the mixture and you’ve got it. The novelty of such a bare location was really interesting. In our bedroom, there were huge backpacks from people who were actually backpacking across Europe. We shared a bathroom with I don’t even know how many people, but it was fun. We
decided to quench our thirst with a drink, and took in the gorgeous view from the patio. When we were done, we put our drinks on the bar and proceeded to check our email from the free computer station. The bartender came up to us and asked us to put our cups in the dishwasher! Dumbfounded, I had to go and actually do the dishes…oh hostel life….
We left the hostel and wandered around the beach area, which honestly, was not that great. I would not recommend Malaga for beachgoers at all, and I’ve heard it is known more for the bars on the beach than the beach itself. Since we lucked out on World Tourism Day, we went back to the center for a special concert and guided tour. During the concert, they played Malaguena, a song I have played on the piano for years, and never really understood that a “malaguena” is a citizen of Malaga. Que suerte! I must tell Mrs. Yaw…
For dinner, we had muchas aventuras. In the hostel, I discovered a novel concept: there were these little cards that were advertisements for restaurants, but also had discounts…mostly something like “free tapa with drink…” which is a great deal if you think about it. We decided to tapear at these locations like real college students, Rachael Ray would have been proud! The first location was a tiny little tapa bar in a hard to find cute alleyway. There was Chambao (a popular band known for “flamenco chill” style music) playing in the background, and many couples enjoying romantic Malaga when Natalia and I plopped down to have our free tapa. The waitress was a nice German girl, also living in Spain to learn Spanish and we chatted for a bit. I ordered paella while Natalia opted for a montadito (sandwich). We chatted for a bit, and then headed to the next locale…
This place was called KlikWine (or something) and was fairly cute. We made friends with an elderly American couple from San Francisco. We shared pimientos con atun (peppers with tuna) and ensaladilla rusa, while talking to our waitress whose husband owned the restaurant. The last place we went to offered a taste of Malaga wine (disgustingly sweet crap) and a seafood salad (yay!). We met some Americans studying in Leon who also had the free cards. It turned out to be a really fun night because of the variety of people we met, but by the end of it, we were stuffed and TIRED. We headed back to the hostel to tuck in.
I am in love with Spanish cine…especially my 9 AM class. How many college students can say that? My teacher, Luis Navarrete, is fabulous. He is a thirtysomething Sevillano who is obviously a film director, judging from the passion which he possesses when describing Spanish film. He is also the head of the Sevillana film jury, and apparently, Sevilla has a large film festival coming up….to which we all get into free!!! Free!!! Gratis!!! He began by explaining the differences between Spanish and American film, Spanish film is an expression of the director and has nothing to do with the actors, which is the flip side of American film. We watched two short films…one, a classic, lasted only eight minutes, but was fabulous. The other, “El Censor,” reader, if you can google it, it is AMAZING…and half English, half Spanish with subtitles. It is worth your time. The short film is about a Spaniard who moves to America in the 70’s. Especially interesting for us, was the cultural relativism we could relate to, having lived in American and Spanish locales.
The first class ended a bit early, so Natalia and I decided to book it to catch the earlier train to Malaga. With only the bare necessities fitting into my purse, I could not wait for the aventura to begin. We made the train with five minutes to spare, and settled in for the two and a half hour paseo through the countryside of Andalucia. It was fabulous…we didn’t really have a plan except for to see the city, and had booked a hostel a few days before.
The first thing we did when we got to Malaga was (of course) go to H and M, which was in the train station/mall. After making the obligatory stop, we headed to a tourist booth to grab a map, and an internet café to find out the name and address of the hostel for future purposes (note to self: do this before leaving next time). In a few minutes we got hungry, so we settled down on a cute bench to eat our bocadillos that our Senora’s made. After successfully spilling coke all over myself and the ground, I dug into my sandwich, which was as usual, Spanish tortilla with this cardboard like circular bread. Needless to say, my Senora would benefit from learning how to make sandwiches properly. (but here, I am also feeling bitchy because of an argument I just had with her about calling time, but I stray….)
We walked. And walked. And mostly I took many pictures. We made it to the main street, equivalent to Avenida de la Constitucion in Sevilla, with a bunch of shops and cool buildings. We followed the tourist path described in the map through little cafes and strolling flamenco guitarists. (insert movie clip here). We reached the location of the famed cathedral and decided to check how much it would cost to go inside. As we approached the price list, we noticed a white piece of paper covering the prices which said “hoy gratis” (today free). With burgeoning incredulity, I asked the ticket taker what the deal was. He pointed to a poster which read: World Tourism Day- September 27, 2007 in Malaga every tourist attraction free, and guided tours. I could not believe my luck. The one random day I chose to go to Malaga…everything was FREE. Thank you Spain! We went inside the gothic cathedral which was gorgeous, as usual. I swear, I could not come to turns with our lucky stroke, and I’m sure, annoyed Natalia throughout the day by my thanking the World Tourism Day Gods for our luck.
Afterwards we strolled through some narrow streets to the Picasso museum and the house where Picasso was born. Since he was born here, (along with Antonio Banderas) there is Picasso stuff all over the place. Feeling a little burned out by all the touristy stuff by this point, we sat down for a drink and a tapa. (sangria and ensaladilla rusa). Ensaladilla rusa is the funniest thing…it is literally “Russian salad” and is exactly like “olivye,” a typical Russian dish. They Spanish it up by adding tuna, however.
Onwards we walked to the Alcazaba, an ancient Moorish castle and fortress. We climbed and climbed to the very top, stopping to take pictures of the gorgeous scenery from time to time. It was interesting that most of the tourists here were not American. In fact, we had a hard time communicating with some German tourists who we somehow asked to take a picture for us. They did not speak Russian/Spanish/English and we did not speak German so the language barrier was quite obvious and QUITE frustrating.
We also met some nice Irish ladies up at the top of the Alcazaba while glancing at the beautiful port in the Mediterranean and the charming plaza de toros. After shlepping all the way up (it’s at the top of a hill for fortification purposes) we decided to go check out our hostel.
We took a cab to the Melting Pot Hostel for Backpackers, and shlepped some more up some steps. The place was very reminiscent of the Hollywood Hills in the manner of how the houses are arranged on hills. As we walked in, there was eclectic music playing and a receptionist asked us for our passports, and we looked back at her in horror. Resolving the issue by using other forms of photo ID, I explored the hostel while Natalia dealt with the paperwork.
How do I describe this place? OK, imagine a couple of rooms with 4 bunk beds. Now imagine a small kitchen. Finally, imagine a living room with a small bar. Add some beads and hippie type artwork to the mixture and you’ve got it. The novelty of such a bare location was really interesting. In our bedroom, there were huge backpacks from people who were actually backpacking across Europe. We shared a bathroom with I don’t even know how many people, but it was fun. We
decided to quench our thirst with a drink, and took in the gorgeous view from the patio. When we were done, we put our drinks on the bar and proceeded to check our email from the free computer station. The bartender came up to us and asked us to put our cups in the dishwasher! Dumbfounded, I had to go and actually do the dishes…oh hostel life….We left the hostel and wandered around the beach area, which honestly, was not that great. I would not recommend Malaga for beachgoers at all, and I’ve heard it is known more for the bars on the beach than the beach itself. Since we lucked out on World Tourism Day, we went back to the center for a special concert and guided tour. During the concert, they played Malaguena, a song I have played on the piano for years, and never really understood that a “malaguena” is a citizen of Malaga. Que suerte! I must tell Mrs. Yaw…
For dinner, we had muchas aventuras. In the hostel, I discovered a novel concept: there were these little cards that were advertisements for restaurants, but also had discounts…mostly something like “free tapa with drink…” which is a great deal if you think about it. We decided to tapear at these locations like real college students, Rachael Ray would have been proud! The first location was a tiny little tapa bar in a hard to find cute alleyway. There was Chambao (a popular band known for “flamenco chill” style music) playing in the background, and many couples enjoying romantic Malaga when Natalia and I plopped down to have our free tapa. The waitress was a nice German girl, also living in Spain to learn Spanish and we chatted for a bit. I ordered paella while Natalia opted for a montadito (sandwich). We chatted for a bit, and then headed to the next locale…
This place was called KlikWine (or something) and was fairly cute. We made friends with an elderly American couple from San Francisco. We shared pimientos con atun (peppers with tuna) and ensaladilla rusa, while talking to our waitress whose husband owned the restaurant. The last place we went to offered a taste of Malaga wine (disgustingly sweet crap) and a seafood salad (yay!). We met some Americans studying in Leon who also had the free cards. It turned out to be a really fun night because of the variety of people we met, but by the end of it, we were stuffed and TIRED. We headed back to the hostel to tuck in.
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