“Margs” for Western Australians isn’t just a term used to order a delicious Mexican drink, it’s what they affectionately call one of the best surfing towns in the world located in the vast state of Western Australia.
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.
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!”
Oui oui oui! Mon cherie! …. and that´s all the French I´ve learned so far.
Lauren and I´s arrival to Paris wasn´t exactly the smoothest. We bartered a ride from Amsterdam to Paris for 25 Euro each, a steal as the driver and every other method was at least 40! It was chosen as a quick stopping point on our trek down to Spain.