Festes de San Adria de Besos

CAUTION: Entry heavy to photos!

When San Fermin ended, our friend Sara told us we had to come to her neighborhood in Barcelona for the fiestas they put on each year. She came to visit us during the party and wanted to return the favor. We were a little skeptical. I mean, Inaki told me the other night that the order of festivals world-wide goes: Carnival in Brazil, San Fermin in Pamplona and Mardi Gras in the States. It's up for debate and Inaki is now filling my ear with why San Fermin should be known as the best. Anyhow, those are the top 3.

So, on the 7th of September, when we started the 4.5 hour road trip to San Adria de Besos, we thought it would be a nice break from the hum-drum. That wasn't the case at all. It was a break, but a rip-roarin' rager from the moment we entered Catalunya.

We started with some road sodas. Inaki and I were in the back seat and open containers are not illegal in Spain, yeeee-yahh!

Inaki and I also snapped a few good shots from the car. One of the bull that seems to be perched on the high hills overlooking most Spanish cities and another of Montserrat.

We picked up our friend Ester in her hood and she lead us over to Sara's house. Inaki and I stayed at her parent's house and Irene stayed at Sara's place. They were the best hosts ever! Sara's mom helped us with everything and always made sure we had enough food, water, showers, whatever, amazing!

No time was wasted and we dropped our bags and headed out for a huge meal of pintxos and Barcelona Sidra, which is much more similar to actual sparkling cider in the States. Here you'll see the rock star croquettes we had, some cheese on the left, which came along with some fantastic jamon, and a bit of the rest, mostly empty plates because it was so good.

It was Irene's b-day the night before and this restaurant actually brought out a little cake for her and all. Unfortunately, they didn't have a "0" candle and just shoved the "9" candle deep into the cake. Irene was not amused.

We finished off our mammoth meal with coffees and 3 types of orujo - coffee flavored, herb flavored or straight up white lightening. I went with herb and it was delicious, but I was so freaking full! They just left the bottles at the table and we could take as many shots as we wanted. Cheers!

I thought, stupidly, that we'd go home from there. Oh no. There was a night out ahead of us. Sara lead us over to the main square and the party had begun without us. A few booths with drinks and snacks were open to the left and a huge stage was set up in the middle. We grabbed some drinks and dove into the fray.

At one point, I'd guess around 1am, I glanced up at a balcony that looked over the square to see a couple of little old ladies in their robes checking out the scene. This is a dark and blurry pic, but I can't get enough of little old lady pictures.

The night pretty much went downhill from there. We hooked up with the local band and followed them through the streets for a while after the concert. I kept trying to get them to play the star spangled banner, but to no avail. They gave it the old college try though, and knew me as "USA" for the rest of the weekend.

We landed at a neighborhood bar and Ester fell victim to a mystery pickle. Yes, a mystery pickle. There was a table with a bunch of stuff sitting on it right outside the bar, including a cookie tin of pickles. She said, oh, we get a pickle with our drinks! No, I don't think that's what the deal was. But here she is, munching happily. Not so happy the next morning.

Here's a shot of Sara, our lovely hostess and myself, along with the antics that occurred at the very end of the night. We found an orange cone. After I swung it around over my head a few times, Irene started running some quickness drills around it. Not a bad turn.

Inaki and I crept into Sara's parent's apartment at about 5am. We went directly to bed and woke up at around 1:30pm to get rolling with a little sight seeing. Here's me in front of the Sagrada Familia and on the patio at Sara's parent's restaurant for lunch. The best gazpacho and croquettes, yum!

Bloated and hungover, the coffee after lunch hit the spot. We roamed the streets of Barcelona from there and the magic of the city came flooding back to me. We strolled down Las Ramblas and got a pic at the fountain where the Barca celebrates after every home win.

We hit up the Boqueria market for a few minutes as well. I just love all the colors and displays they make with the food.

Next stop was the Catedral Santa Maria del Mar. There's a book that contains this Cathedral as a character, more or less, and the last time we were here, it was closed. So here are some pics for you mom. So pretty because the beauty was so simple and humble.

We bumped into some castellers being built in front of the main cathedral on our way back to the metro. Basically, people climb on top of each other and make huge towers, it's so amazing to see in person! The climber on the very top is usually a child of about 6 years old. I can totally see Kins doing this in 3 years.

Cruising home on the metro was simple with Ester and we made it in time for a 9:30 dinner with Sara near the main square. We all had t-shirts that donned a picture of Spartacus on the back, arms outstretched and holding a beer in each hand. Our group for the night was called "Quintacus" because it was the 15th year of the festival and Spartacus was our theme. There were various other groups of friends that had their own t-shirts too. As we got moving for the night, the t-shirts were really helpful because we didn't lose our group.

At the stroke of, I don't know, maybe 12am, the beer fight began. Sara had told us this would happen, but we weren't quite sure how it was all going to go down. We thought, ok, maybe we're a team and we throw beer at other people. Maybe we could stay out of it a little and just let everyone else fight. But no. As soon as the horn rang to start the fight, one of our new "friends" threw beers right in our faces and and said, "welcome to San Adria!" It got vicious from there. Inaki got one down the back of his pants and even Sara's own brother got me straight on.

The strategy we hatched was to buy 2 beers at a time so you could drink one and throw the other. We were soaked in beer for the rest of the night and it was great. It's probably a dream of my dad's to bathe in beer and this is as close as you can get really. A shot of the crowd in the streetlight.

The strategy. They don't know how to make a proper pour in Spain! Too much head!

Sara evading a beer attack.

We finally made it back to the plaza and danced the night away, wreaking of dry, stale beer and loving it. Our buddy Ivan even bought me a balloon. I leave you with this final shot of Inaki, me and our new friend bob, who clung to my wrist for at least 3 hours before our heads hit the pillows at 7am, sticky and matted with beer. A good weekend's work!

Pobre de Mi

When San Fermin ends, it doesn't just peter out. There are many holidays that do just that and leave you with a sad, empty feeling. Halloween, Thanksgiving or Christmas, for example... OK, Thanksgiving does not leave you feeling empty. BUT, you have an amazing time trick-or-treating, carving pumpkins, watching football, eating deviled eggs, hanging with the people that mean the most to you and then it just ends. No one says when, no one says where, but slowly and always, people start to decide it's time to go home and others follow and you're just expected to accept it.

That's one of the reasons I like San Fermines, there's a party that celebrates the end and it's clear that it's over and we're all in the same boat. Los San Fermineros join again in front of town hall at midnight on the 14th of July each year. Feet drag a bit through urine, vomit stained streets and heads hang low from exhaustion and drunken rampage on the way. On day 1 you thought, "how the hell am I gonna make it through this?! It's disgusting! I'm completely dehydrated and have depleted all energy stores! I am a hooligan, vagabond and I think I may have broken every moral code I have!" Miraculously, by the 14th, your attitude has changed to, "No, San Fermin, please, don't go! I want to be in this place where I'm always a good dancer and rum is the new water, forever! I look hot in wine soaked white t-shirts and crusty old high tops! I hate showers! Please San Fermin, stay!" Sadly, it has to go and we all meet again to lament. This time it's dark, candles are passed out to light the square and fireworks go off to mark it, the end. I was so lucky to have the view from the balcony this year, gives me chills.

The Pamplonesa plays a few tunes on the steps of town hall to brighten the mood and we get ready for the mayor to step out on his balcony by tugging at our handkerchiefs and untying them. Holding these little red offerings over our heads the mayor tells us for sure, the party is over and we join together in song:

Pobre de mi (Poor me)
Pobre de mi (Poor me)
Se han acabado las fiestas de San Fermin (The San Fermin fiesta has ended)

Pretty cool how bright and golden it gets from the candlelight.

And then, just when you think you couldn't get any sadder or poorer, a notion crosses your mind, "hey this isn't over, not really. It comes every year, yeah, it does! Oh my God, a new one will come in a year! This is so exciting! And who says we can't party all year anyway, yeah, yeah, yeeeeeah boyeeeeee!"

Somehow, this hits everyone at the same time and we start singing a different song, all at once.

Ya falta menos (Now there's less time)
Ya falta menos (Now there's less time)
Ya falta menos (Now there's less time)
Para San Fermin! (Until the next San Fermin!)

It reminds me of this:

And we all huddle out of the plaza for one last night of partying (click pic for a larger panorama).

Here is a video for you to enjoy as well:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kI-ecG0TKo8&feature=plcp

So, as is evident by this post, San Fermin will be back next year. I may have a full house, but put it on your bucket list and just sleep in the park!

Viddy-poos!

I just posted 12-13 videos on youtube of our experiences. Here's the link to Inaki's channel:
http://www.youtube.com/user/alaotravezlacontrase?feature=watch

Enjoy! We sure did!

Mountain Girl

I kid myself and say that I'm a hiker and outdoorsy and just like Mountain Girl from from The Ladykillers. Inaki doesn't have IBS though... that I know of.

Really, I'm a city girl through and through. I like going on hikes that include large army green and marigold yellow signs that say exactly where I should go, when I will get there and whether or not there's a bathroom on the way. I like getting exercise and seeing great views of mountains and rivers, as long as the trail isn't too hard. The classic National and State park signs in Oregon always make me feel nostalgic, though I don't know why, as I was always in a gym or on a field during my summers as a child. Hiking makes me feel like the movies I guess. A little escape. BUT, just enough to tighten my glutes and show off that nice line between my hammy and my quad that runs from hip to knee-ish.

Yet, I knew, when we decided to move back to Spain, that hiking was the key to connecting with Inaki's mother. We were both excited to accompany her on the many hiking trips she'd described to us over the 3 years we lived in Portland. On some tours, she hopped on a hiking bus and went with a group, just like Mountain Girl would, out into the wilderness and wandered all day. Our first trip with Dori was to an old arms factory in Orbaizeta, the Cueva de Arpea and lunch in Sorogain.

We piled into the car at around 8:30 and cruised up into the Pyrenees in Dori's VW Caddy. Inaki rocked his typical hiking tee, "Running Sucks."

I always get car sick if we're driving in the Pyrenees for too long. How snobby does that sound, "driving in the Pyrenees, cheerio, pip, pip." I forgot my shades on this particular day and the combo of squinting all the time and the twists and turns was making me nauseous. Not a good start for Mountain Girl.

When we arrived at the old arms factory in Orbaizeta, I had to get out and walk for a while before taking in the view. Here's what we saw, the 18th century ruins of the factory.

We also bought some delicious cheese and ate a bit of fruit before getting back in the car. I felt better and didn't even puke, wahoo!

We headed deeper, or higher into the Pyrenees and hit the french border in the mountains a few miles after the arms factory. It was just beautiful and one of the few times I literally have felt like I was on top of the world. There was nothing at a higher altitude than we were, but the sky. A bunch of huge white cows were roaming the plateau on the mountain, similar to those in Roncal I described earlier. They wouldn't get out of the road and we had to honk and wait, honk and wait. We also saw a herd of horses galloping around. I know this all sounds like some kind of French, My Little Pony meets Charlotte's Web dream world, but it was fo real! Pics to prove.

After another mile en camino, we parked on the side of the gravel road and prepped for the "hike." As Inaki and Dori put their boots on, I explored the mountainside, now in France, on my own. At the top of the hill near our car there was a sort of monument to victims of a fire that happened there in the year 2000. Nothing that anyone knew about, or that was in the newspaper, just something the family down the hill felt was necessary.

So beautiful. I fumbled down the hillside, touched by life, and we were on our way to the Cueva de Arpea. Inaki says it's a very unique formation in the Pyrenees because of all the layers you can see within the rock. It was created due to a crash in tectonic plates. Walking to get to it was like being in the Shire and on a nice defined path too.

And here's the cave.

After hitting the cave is when the trouble started. The path ended and I thought, "ok, we'll head back to the car and get going to the next spot." But no. Dori's Mountain Girl kicked in, who is much different from my Mountain Girl. Dori's Mountain Girl is more like Wo-Man vs. Wild. We walked down from the cave and saw that the path continued, so we kept walking. In a few minutes, we hit sort of a barbed wire fence with a semi-gate in it, but not really. We had to shimmy and twirl just to get through it. On the other side of the fence, Dori announced, "here's the path!" and beckoned us. Her version of a path was high grass that had a few footprints in it. Yet, we kept on. As she lunged up a hill, my tall self was slipping, sliding and struggling. I heard her saying to Inaki, "we'll just walk up here and then down into the forest, it'll be great!" I looked up and saw no path, just taller grass and more slope.

At the top of the hill, there was a pit with trees in it, which was "the forest," but there was no clear entry or, more importantly, exit, and no army green sign. Inaki turned to me and said, "what do you think, should we go?" For once, I had a straight answer, no discussion required. "No." And we got the heck out, though Dori was disappointed. We're still at the point in our relationship that she won't make me do things I don't want to. I rue the day that's not the case. So, thank goodness, we headed back to the car.

At this point, we were hungry. We drove down the mountain and found a spot to eat lunch along the river in Sorogain. It was a hot day, so the shade and cool felt amazing as we munched on pork loin and grilled poblano pepper sandwiches and gulped cold beer. Awesome.

Inaki and I weren't quite satisfied with the amount of exercise we'd gotten and Dori dropped us off to walk a 4 mile chunk of the Camino Santiago, my first! It was so cool. The spirit even touched us enough to start singing a little gospel, or perhaps it was heat stroke. But, that blog is for another day. I hope for more days like this one and more exploration to come soon!