Ding Ding Ding, It's A Winner!

Mon - I'm in an american car listening to Katy Perry at volume levels meant for people with hearing loss and I have to close my eyes because I'm afraid this next turn at this crazy speed will end up with some kid in the hospital.   I'm also thinking to myself that if this Spanish real estate man doesn't show me something worth living in I'm going to have to have more cruz campo asap.   His legs are at least 4 feet tall and his round cupid-like face makes me smile every time I look at him.   His tall legs and short round middle reminds me of a character from school house rock. Our real estate agent helping us look for our perfect piso in this little town called Motril looks like a living cartoon character.

Earlier that day he had taken us to two other pisos that must I say were not so appealing.  In the first piso, the only thing I can remember was the sound of an annoying, yappy dog next door and an ugly orange couch that even a homeless person would frown at.  Mr. Cartoon the real estate agent then took us to another Piso which I was hoping would be nicer than the last.  I think the lobby with the spiraling staircase gave me the impression that this next one wouldn't be so bad.  Boy was I mistaken!   I walk into a doily, flowery, crucifix thunderstorm.  Grandmas house on steroids!  The dust was so thick I was sneezing every two seconds while being bombarded by angels and Saint Mary's and all while being scared to open the next door.  The master bedroom had an enormous, perfectly situated rosary hanging above the bed.  The other bedrooms weren't far behind with a crucifix over every doorway and symbols of Catholicism decor was strewn about the place like a nun had lived there prior.   The closets were opened with rusted antique keys that reminded me of a horror movie.  I opened one expecting to see a corpse like the one in the movie Psycho, that or a small child malnourished playing with a wooden toy.   The landlord looked eighty and I imagined her explaining quite calmly why she kept her sisters corpse in the the closet next to the statue of Saint Mary.  But no corpse in site, just dust and old wooden shelves that may have been strong enough to hold a pencil.  I couldn't get out of there fast enough.  The place gave me chill bumps while I stood there listening to the nearly dead landlord argue with the real estate agent about why she wanted to charge so much for the piso.

Tad and I finally escaped from grandmas torture house and bought some beers that were definitely needed after that adventure.   Mr. Cartoon agent had us wait a few more hours while we drank our beers to show us one more piso that he had in mind.   We met back up with Mr. Cartoon agent who took us to the next piso in his Chrysler blasting American music while I sat in the backseat eagerly waiting to see the next piso (expecting it to be just as worse as the other ones) and trying not to have a panic attack while he sped around Motril's tiny streets.

Heaven. Light. Modern. New.   What the hell?   He shows us, parden my french, two shit holes and then he brings us to this gorgeous apartment-piso (pictures below) which in the states would have to cost at least $1500 a month.  I'm floored, flabbergasted and in love.  I look at Tad and I'm sure he is thinking the same thing I was thinking.    I just found my new home here in Spain for the next 8 months! 

Tues-

After searching for pisos yesterday, me and Tad were beat.   We decided to take it easy and see if we could find a bus to take us to the beach.  We ask a local which one he would recommend and he told us to visit Torrenueva.  I'm just going to let the pictures speak for themselves on this one.

The sand is volcanic pebbles---this is a closeup

Wed-
Emily finally arrived last night and today we had taken her to our two favorite pisos.  The first one which I have already posted and the second being the new one that I fell in love with on Mon.  We got up really early and met with Mr. Cartoon agent and the Landlord that owns the modern piso.  Not only were we all in agreement that this is the one but the Landlord Marian showed us around Motril in her car and even took us to Al Campo (Walmart of Spain) so that Emily could buy a straighter, every girls necessity.   Come to find out Marian had rented out her piso last year to 3 Americans as well and told us that she would help us with anything we needed, including getting our bank accounts set up.  She even offered to pick us up at the hotel and take us with our suitcases to our new place.  Yes, we decided to get this place and we are going to the Agency later on today to put down our deposit and make copies of our passports.  Now the only hard part is deciding who gets what room.  But with every room having access to the large balcony by sliding glass doors that overlooks a great view of the city and the Mediterranean Sea I don't think it will be much of a problem.  We officially move in tomorrow!

Balcony

Large living room

Half Bath

Pretty Kitchen

Orange Room- Bed is not set up yet

Blue room

Master

View from the Balcony!

Gorgeous Pics of Sevilla

Motril, Hello New Home

It's a little past five in the morning on Saterday and I'm packing up my suitcase for my last stop in Motril, my new home for the next eight months.   My Abuelita is yelling at me "Venga, Venga!!" Which in English means -let's go, let's go!  She starts packing my suitcases for me as I'm hurrying to get dressed.  Five minutes later she has all three of my suitcases out in the hall near the elevator and I'm still in the bathroom brushing my teeth.  Let's just say she was very willing to see me leave.  Why?  I'm not sure.  Maybe it was because I burnt her dish towel trying to make her an American meal, or maybe it was because I snuck chocolate milk and peanut butter in my room which I tried to hide under my bed and she found it.  It might have also been the fact that I never understood a word she had said and I always left my room quite disorganized.   Not messy, just disorganized.  I'd love to say that I enjoyed every minute of being waited on but having my laundry done for me (my undies folded)  and having every meal made for me was quite uncomfortable. Safe to say I was glad to be gone as well but will also miss my abuelita from Sevilla very much.

A six hour bus ride, my new roomie/friend Tad  and I made it to Motril.  Exhausted and hungry we took a small nap in our hotel rooms then headed out to the streets to find some food.  We stumbled across a small place which looked busy and had plenty of cigarette stubs on the floor.  Loud, smokey and amongst all the chatter we ordered two cervezas which came out with a free tapa.  We both look down at our tapa and realize it has purple suction cups.  Yes, our tapa was grilled octopus.  Hesitant to try it, I grabbed a toothpick anyways and ate my first piece of octopus.  The taste was great, but dang those things are chewy!

Today (Sunday) we explored more of Motril and looked for "se aquiler" signs, which in English means "for rent."  Later this afternoon we searched online for more pisos--apartments and both came across one that caught our eye.  We both emailed the landlord saying we were interested in looking at the apartment and a few hours later Tad got a call from the guy.  Not only was the apartment gorgeous but the family who was leasing it out were so nice and took us out for beer and tapas which we weren't allowed to pay for.  They chatted to us in their broken English while we chatted back in our broken Spanish while eating, you guessed it, more octopus and fried fish.  The food was great and they seemed to like us, the older gentlemen told me I was very pretty on more than one occasion.   Yet later after telling him I wanted to buy a Moto , he commented on my belly (twice) saying I should just walk,  that I needed to walk to get rid of my little pudge.   They did warn us at orientation that Spaniards are very blunt and honest about one anothers appearances.  Yes, I was a little embarrassed but then laughed it off and thought "it's a lot smaller than it was three weeks ago!"  Plus he is right, the more walking I do plus living off of small portions of seafood -aka tapas- I'll get rid of my belly in no time.   Back to the piso,  we think this might be the one, yet it was the first place we looked at and we have more to look at tomorrow.  The plan is to do some more searching tomorrow, compare those to the one we looked at tonight and if we can't find anything better, then this one is a keeper.  I've posted pictures, yall tell me what you think?

It's 500 euros a month split between 3 people--what you see in the pictures is ALL included.

Sevilla is One Interesting City

Can you believe it another week has flow by here in Sevilla.  The whole week I have been attending spanish immersion courses Monday through Friday.   I wish I could say I love my Spanish classes here in Sevilla but I'm very close to loathing them.  Why?  Well first of all they are very lengthy, 3pm-7pm with a small 10-15 min break in the middle.   Secondly, they start right in the middle of siesta and limit us from eating almuerzo (lunch) with our host families, this being the biggest meal of the day.  Lastly, with our awesome, lousy class schedule our days fly by leaving us limited free time in the early morning.  Well, ok maybe 9am-1pm isn't really that early. Yet I can never seem to get up early enough to go explore the city before class starts.

My typical day starts off by eating breakfast with Abuelita (my host Grandmother) which always consists of cafe con leche and tostado con crema.  In English, coffee with milk and toast with cream cheese.  Not the healthiest of meals but it will have to suffice.   After breakfast and taking a shower that consistently changes water temperature (cold, hot, really hot, warm, freezing...)  I finally head out for the day.  I'm on the sixth floor which here in Spain is actually the seventh floor, for the first floor is often called floor zero so surprise surprise another teeny tiny elevator down to level zero and then I can finally breath again.  To get to the middle of town (which is called Centro) for my classes each day I have to take a Bus and a Tram.  YAY!!!  How I love public transportation!  Waiting is my favorite part, its such a surprise when I have know idea how long it will actaully take me to get to my final destination.  My other favorite part is the smell.  It's a mixture of sweat, urine and a special funk that I can't quite put my finger on.  Again, let me emphasize how much I love public transportation.  Did I mention how much it costs per ride?

Moving on.  Besides classes I have a had a fun yet exhausting time of exploring the city on foot and by bicycle.  Sevilla offers this interesting rent-a-bike system that comes in very handy when I run out of money on my bus card.  It's called Sevici.  A small deposit and 30min free each time you check out a bike with 1hr costing only one euro, its' easy and so much fun.  My friend Katie and I have taken full advantage of the system and have been exploring Sevilla everyday. On Sunday and Saterday we rode around in Sevilla's famous park called  "Parque de Maria Luisa."  It's gorgeous and smack dab in the middle of the city.  I could go there every day and not get tired of it.  My favorite part is the ice cream stands located every few yards throughout the park.  Did I mention that Spaniards love their ice cream?

Its true they they do.  I have never seen so many ice cream stores in my life!!! They're obsessed I swear.  There are ice cream stores across from ice cream stores.  It's similar to our Star Bucks in Houston, they are everywhere!!!!!!  Another thing Spaniards love is their Cruz Campo.  Their version of Budlight. I think it's the only beer every bar or restaurant serves in this town, I haven't seen any other brand.  All this makes me miss American food even more.  That is one thing I can honestly say makes me miss home the most.  Yes, I have to admit I was the first person to give in, I ate at a Burger King the other day.  All I wanted was a real chicken sandwich.  Here they serve you these things called Bocadillos, their version of a sandwich.  If your thinking subway or even a homemade turkey on rye, your wrong my friend, very wrong.  homemade sandwiches are made with Iron kids white bread without the crust----yes, in the stores every loaf of bread has the crust cut off--- and if you buy one at a shop expect a stale piece of french bread with salami or ham maybe cheese, that's it.  No lettuce, no tomato , no mayo or honey mustard, nada!!   I gave in, I had my seven euro value meal and ohh how happy I was that day.  You can even hear me singing "Oh happy dayyyyyy , oh happy day!"

One more week of Spanish classes, trying to understand what Abuelita is saying to me , smiling as I eat whatever food she puts in front of me, having my underwear folded for me, walking and biking miles all around town, trying to find real food, and trying not to get ran over by a tram.  Sevilla I will definitely miss you when I'm gone!

September 25th----my new life in Motril.