Semana Santa
Living in Spain makes Elliot and I pretty damn appealing. Not that we aren't causing folks on the street to fan themselves when we walk by normally, but living in Spain definitely increases our coolness factor. We have had some super fun visits with family and friends, so El and I are all for having people come visit us. I mean, c'mon, who wouldn't want to visit Southern Spain and stay with some totally righteous (righteous meaning 90's cool) people like the Brouses?
El's parents, Michele and Ross, arrived in Sevilla on Friday, March 30th for an almost four-week long visit. They were supposed to arrive that Thursday, but Spain decided to have an ALL-COUNTRY general strike, meaning that businesses were closed, and modes of transportation like flights and trains were cancelled. I even had to spend Wednesday night in Rota to make a Thursday appointment, because word got out that the protests outside the gate would "not be peaceful". Double-u, tee, eff, Spain? The airline put them up in a hotel room for the night, but they ended up getting a stomach bug from the crappy food that they were served at the hotel. The majority of that first week of them here was spent indoors and trying to recover from whatever parasite the hotel sprinkled into their food.
That week was also Semana Santa. If you'll recall from last year's post, Semana Santa is the most important week of the year in a traditionally religous country like Spain. Rain during Semana Santa is absolutely devastating to the Spanish, as they practice all year (often to the chagrin of my eardrums) for the opportunity to profess their faith and devotion on their city's streets during Holy Week. Semana Santa was the biggest reason Michele and Ross came when they did; for them to miss most of it on account of sickness and rain was understandably disappointing. Fortunately, the only first day that they were feeling quasi-human was the ONLY day it didn't rain. Not wanting them (or us) to miss out on Semana Santa, we drove into Sevilla for the processions by the Cathedral. Schedules and routes had been posted by friends on Facebook, so we were able to time our trip with the official schedule of events. As expected, the streets were filled with people, and the VIP seats along Avenida de Constitucion were already set up for Spanish VIP asses. Okay, I don't actually know if the Duchess of Alba was there (she DOES live in Sevilla), but I kind of want to post her picture in every blog because I think she's pretty freaking glorious. We walked the side streets around the Cathedral, stopped in a Duffin' Dagels for a coke, and made a pit stop to grab a snack before the first tarde procession.
We had just finished a few tapas of stuffed potatoes, fried goat cheese and solomillo whiskey, when we heard the all-too familiar blare of trumpets and the pounding of drums. Michele and I ran ahead of the boys to get as close to the fence behind the Cathedral as we could. The area immediately behind the Cathedral was fenced off for people who had invitations to sit there, but it wasn't far enough back that we missed anything. The three of them (El included) were able to see one procession before they started feeling sick, so they were at least able to experience Semana Santa, if only for a brief time. I stayed behind and was practically able to carry the image myself, I ended up getting so close.
After the three Brouses finally kicked the sickness that had cast a minor cloud on their vacay, it was all systems go. El took them down to Granada and Gibraltar, I took Michele flamenco dress shopping and to dinner with friends, she accompanied me to my Sevillana dance class (where one of the guys said how beautiful and smiley she was; going to have to send Ross after the guy ;), we took them fruit and veggie shopping, Michele and Ross bought eight packaging boxes worth of ceramics from my guy in Triana, we dined at our favorite restaurant in Sevilla, and Michele was beloved by all the gals at the Spouse Recipe Swap. Michele and I also walked into an hermandad "headquarters" like we owned the place and took pictures of additional images. It was just really nice to spend time with them, and we all were able to get to know each other better. Lots of laughs and stories were shared, and it was overall a great visit.
Lisbon.... The Sequel
The cherry on the Spanish sundae that is Ross and Michele's European Vacation was the trip to Lisbon their last weekend in Europe. Lisbon's only 4hrs and 45 minutes by car, and it's an incredibly unique city. I've been once before with friends for a very brief visit, so I was somewhat familiar with the city and where to go. Thanks to booking.com, we found a SICK 5-star hotel for only 100euros/night. It is basically a resort, and El and I kept high-fiving over what a good find it was. Everything was super nice and trendy, and we felt like hot shit staying in a place like that.
We made it into Lisbon after a drive that was like I-80 from Iowa to Chicago around 7pm, so we checked in and got ready to go for dinner. El and I had been talking about getting Indian food, so I found a place called Tamarind that was highly recommended by none other than Lonely Planet. We decided to drive rather than take a cab, which ended up being a huge pain in the rear due to the restaurant being more difficult to locate than Waldo. Right as we were able to give up and go back to the hotel to take a cab, we spotted the restaurant sign tucked away on a side street.
The restaurant itself was only one room and a somewhat eye-assaulting hot pink. The size and Hello Kitty'ness of the restaurant's appearance were quickly forgotten, however, as we were led to our table by the owner and head chef himself. With only 10 tables in the whole restaurant, Chef Hardev explains the atmosphere and menu of his restaurant, makes dish recommendations, and personally waits on every customer. The adjectives 'adorable' and the phrase 'I want to put him in my pocket and take him home with me' are probably often used around this guy. We ordered a few of our favorites: garlic naan and butter chicken, but also went with tandoori chicken, a chicken in tomato and onion sauce, and an eggplant and onion dish that was so good, Michele and I polished it off ourselves without sharing with the boys. The chef recommended it as a family recipe, and I'm so glad we did. It was so tasty that you wanted hop on a flight to India to hug his mother and say "Thank you". If you're in Lisbon, stop by Tamarind and pinch the cheeks of my new buddy.
After dinner, El and I had a night-cap in the hotel lounge, where we drank some vino (Scotch for him), chatted, listened to a jazzy version of "Poker Face" and were in bed by 11pm. Totally different vacation scenario than if we were still 21. And that's probably a good thing.
The next morning, we ventured out to a Portuguese bakery I read about called A Padaria Portuguesa for breakfast. The breakfast at the hotel was a whopping 20 euros a person, so it was a no-brainer to eat at a place where ALL of our breakfasts cost less than 14 euro. I had a freshly baked roll with butter (that was obviously sprinkled with crack, because I didn't know butter could be that tasty), and the rest of the crew had fresh-squeezed orange juice, coffee (besides El) and breakfast sweet rolls. Actually figuring out how to order our food was like a three-ring circus, as everything was in (duh) Portuguese. Spanish and Portuguese are similar enough, but I still had no clue how to communicate what I wanted. The guy fortunately spoke enough English, and Elliot has enough swagger to convince the world he knows what he's doing, so we ended up with what we wanted instead of ordering something like pickled cow farts.
After breakfast, we bought a map and found out the pick-up spot for the legendary Tram 28. The trams in Lisbon run on cables and remind me of the trolleys in San Francisco. Now, I've never been to San Francisco, but I HAVE seen plenty of Full House episodes, so I'm obviously an expert on all things San-Fran related. Lisbon is basically a series of hills with tiled sidewalks, so it makes getting around with Mama and Papa B very difficult. Fortunately, Tram 28 goes throughout the city and stops at famous tourist attractions like the Castelo de Sao Jorge (Castle of St. George). Tram 28 was mentioned in basically every travel article I read on Lisbon, so it seemed like the ideal way to tour the city.
We found Hotel Mundial, the spot where Tram 28 picks up, but the line was so long we had to wait for two trams to arrive and depart before we were able to board. The tram itself is very narrow, with seats on either side of the aisle, and an open standing area near the back. Although we were very close to the front of the line, the seats filled up very quickly and Michele and Ross were the last ones able to snag seats. El and I made our way to the standing area in the back with the walker. We had a great view out the back of trolley, but holding on was a bit of an adventure. Going along on cables made for quite the rickety ride, but the car was so sardine can-like that people just pin balled each other back into place.
While Elliot and I were listening to a group of German teenagers cackle, apparently Michele and Ross were getting hassled by some old ladies. Some old woman (Michele swears she looked like she was in her 90's, but when you add in the "leathery old Mediterranean ladies" factor, she was probably more like 60) had a cane and also needed a seat, and her friends started yelling at Michele and Ross to get up and offer the lady their bench seat. Why they asked two older people to give up their seat, instead of the TWENTY-YEAR OLD right next to them, flabbergasts me. Poor Ross and Michele were unable to explain that they too needed a seat, so the old bitch let her cane do the talking and started WHACKING ROSS'S FOOT. Ross and Michele are such peaceful people, and didn't get intimidated or rattled by this prehistoric bully. I really wish I had been up by them to quasi-translate and help get these old perras off their back (or foot). Or, I would have called for back-up.
The old ladies got off shortly after, and Ross and Michele were able to enjoy part of their tram trip before we got off at the Sao Jorge spot. The castle is perched atop the city and offers the most spectacular views of the city and water below. Despite the tram almost taking us to the castle entrance, there still was a lot of walking uphill involved. We all made it to the look-out point and were able to get some wonderful pictures
before El and I went ahead and walked along the top of the castle. After taking some more pictures, we bought some watercolors from a street artist right outside the castle and took a cab to an uber-touristy area for lunch.
I like to call the area where we ate "harassment lane". HOLY HELL, the waiters stand outside their restaurants and will BLOCK YOUR PATH to persuade you into their restaurant. They'll ask you where you're from, shove a menu in your face, and do anything short of hog-tying to get you inside. The only reason we went to that area was to find a restaurant from my last visit that had amazing sangria. Frustrated, we finally gave up and went into a "traditional Portuguese" restaurant to eat. The bread was amazing, the food was decent, but the bill was ridiculously high. They even charged us 8 euros for.... BUTTER. That's right, a(n?) euro a pat. Eight pats = 8 euros. Bee-ess. It's a good thing we polished off two pitchers of sangria, because we were less likely to make a stink.
After lunch, we walked around some more before heading back to the hotel for a sangria-induced snooze. We met up to go to dinner at a place called AdLib, a restaurant that was a favorite on the last trip to Lisbon. The dinner was just wonderful, lasting two hours and set to live Cuban music. The food was once again delicious, and we had this wine, Herdade Perdigao Portuguese Reserve-vino tinto 2006, that El and I are on a mission to find in Spain. It was SPECTACULAR. Once again, we had (not-charged) fantastic bread and butter, beef carpaccio, and split chicken and beef tenderloin dishes. The ambiance was dreamy, the food simply scrumptious, and the company superb. After having a cab take Michele and Ross back to the hotel, El and I wandered around and stopped in a few spots for a drink. We also stopped in this store called the Hippie Cafe that had some AWESOME artwork and vintage decos. We picked up a canvas poster that advertised the Rita Hayworth movie "Affair in Trinidad" and a tin advertisement for the Italian railroad system in the 1930's. There were a ton of other artwork pieces that peaked our interest, but we are already running out of wall space at home. We've gotten so many things framed since we've been in Utrera (the guy who does it is sooooo cheap and good), that our "framer" one day asked us who was going to frame things for us when we're back in America. Mr. Almuedo Framing Guy, I don't know... Michaels, eat your heart out.
After getting approached twice to buy cocaine, because you know, El and I look like we're into that (???), and seeing multiple costumed stag parties, El and I took a cab back to the hotel. The cab driver showed us the tattoo he got in Miami (why do old men want to show off their bodies to me?) and refused a tip (which was probably more odd than the fact he showed us his tattoo). El and I had another drink in the jazzy hotel lounge to process the bizarreness that happened the last 30 minutes before hitting the hay.
The next morning, we made the drive back to Utrera, but not before snarfin' on a 20euro breakfast.....
Ahhh... T.C. the coolest "Cat" of all. (and my 1st crush)
ReplyDeleteI knew you'd catch that shout-out! It was between T.C. and Tramp
ReplyDelete