Confession: In Madrid, I claimed to be a Real Madrid fan because somebody told lied to me that’s the team that Gerard Piqué aka Shakira’s husband played on. Now, you can scold me for not doing my own research — I know, I know. So I arrived in Barcelona as a Real Madrid fan for the sole reason of believing that I was rooting for Mr. Shakira.
Turns out, he’s actually on FC Barcelona. Feeling torn over my professed love for Real Madrid, I hesitantly switched over my loyalty to FC Barcelona.
This becomes semi relevant later in this post, but mostly I needed to get that off of my chest.
For the record, the title of this post was inspired by this video – Granada’s parody of Gangnam Style. I suggest watching it if you have a lot of time on your hands and have a high tolerance for irritable youtube videos.
Lauren and I arrived in Granada and checked into Hostel Oasis since we had a good experience at the one in Seville. It was nestled in between the Arabic shops near the city’s main road.
Overall, the hostel was not nearly as good as the one in Seville but still a decent place to sleep for the night. We shared the room with three German boys and a Canadian girl who had an excessive amount of eggs and kept trying to boil them in a thermos. Every once in a while, sometimes mid sentence, she’d open the canister and sniff to see if the eggs were boiled.
She cracked one open on the bed. I saw orange spill out of the corner of my eye.
First and foremost, if you go anywhere in Spain, GO TO SEVILLE.
It’s everything you’ve ever hoped for in a Spanish city – culture, cuisine, great architecture, nice people, and a history you can get sucked into.
Lauren and I arrived by bus in the afternoon, and saw people immediately rushing to the streets for Semana Santa precessions. Semana Santa is passionately celebrated in this city, where people dress up to honor the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Sevillians spend all year preparing for this holy week, and we were lucky to see just a small part of it.
People lined the streets and waited for hours for the ceremony to begin. Floats and groups of people in religious hoods slowly made their way through the winding cobblestone streets, dripping wax from long lit candles. The wax stained the streets for the remainder of our stay a religious and cultural reminder of Semana Santa.
“Hola! Nesecito hablar con mi amigo Alex, eres Alex?” *Beeeeeep*
Lauren and I stared hopelessly at a keypad, pressing each number and beckoning to the voice who answered. We tried to convince every resident to let us into the gate of an apartment building where our next host lived.
Our hair plastered to our faces from the rain.
“Ciao! Hola! Puedes abrir??? Let us in pleeeease!”