Travel is Fatal

Love Thy Enemy

"Alcohol may be man´s worst enemy, but the Bible says to love your enemy." -Frank Sinatra

I´ve been in Spain for five days, but it seems like much longer. Part of that may be because I´ve been so busy- museums, parks, historical sites, trains, sangria- but part of it is just culture shock. There are all these people here who look like waiguoren, but they don´t speak any language I understand! Add to that the fact that my Spanish is more like Spinglish, and I spend most of my time wandering about looking confused. Luckily my sister is a better linguist than me, and she keeps me from wandering down too many dark alleys.

We´re in Cordoba right now, in the heart of Andalucia, the southernmost province in Spain. It is disgustingly hot, but Hong Kong prepared me well and I´m able to get by with minimal misery. You would think that the buildings here would be built for heat, and they probably were originally. However, a lot of the Moorish architecture I´ve seen has been based on the open wall design, and modern day Spaniards tend to place higher priority on keeping their stuff intact than having a nice cross-breeze. Such a loss.

For example, today Darcy and I went to the Mezquita (the Great Mosque) of Cordoba. It was unspeakably beautiful- the first piece of architecture since the Great Wall to really take my breath away. In this case, it wasn´t the scale of the place as much as the smooth transition between the Muslim arches and the medieval cupolas, the Arabic script and the Catholic frescos. I know that the transition was not a peaceful one, and that the construction of the cathedral meant the destruction of dozens of beautiful columns, but the overall effect is still visually stunning.

Tomorrow I´m heading out to the archaeological dig of Rahman III´s tomb (or something- I´ll have to check the details), while my sister goes to some Moorish baths for a medieval-type massage. We´ll meet up for sangria before hitting up the old cathedral and the synagogue. Then it´s off to Granada for the next few days. I´ll post pictures when I get the chance.

 

Here are the long-awaited pictures from the Medina Azahara, Rahman III's palace complex north of Cordoba. I only got off a few shots before my camera broke, but the distance views give you some scope of just how amazing this place will be once they've finished the excavations... and they think they've only uncovered about 10% of the city so far!  

It Takes Two

"It takes two to get one in trouble." -Mae West

I heard somewhere that trouble comes in threes.

Trouble One- My flight from Hong Kong to Doha was delayed by 30 hours. How and why is a mystery which will be unveiled at some nebulous point in the future. Suffice to say, I was not aware of the change, and spent an hour lugging my duffle down to Central Hong Kong… just in time for the service desk to smile and direct me to a chair in the waiting lounge. There I seethed and listened to a friendly public service announcement instructing me on the proper manner to blow my nose. Sometimes I think Hong Kong is taking this whole public health craze a little too far.

Trouble Two- I returned to Maryknoll, frantically trying to contact my sister so that she wouldn’t show up 12 hours early to pick me up. I thanked God for Skype. I was using God’s name in a bit of a different way after my sister told me she had only fifty euros left to her name. Fifty. For 18 days of travel. Our hostel costs 30 euro per night for the two of us. This will all be terribly funny some day, I’m sure.

Trouble Three- Has yet to occur. I’m thinking about smashing my hand in the door, just to prevent the last unfortunate situation to occur while I’m on an airplane. Luckily, I’m sure that there are things my sister has not yet confided in me, and at least one of those things is bound to be a horrible surprise. Here’s hoping for a massive gambling debt or a rampaging Spanish boyfriend…

(Note to self: avoid Basque County.)

 

(An arch built by Carlos III to celebrate something or the other.)

Spain itself is wonderful so far- sunny, temperate, and full of people speaking a language that is somewhat intelligible to me. The Cantonese thing was really getting to me in Hong Kong. There’s been no sign of real trouble thus far. I fell on my face on the Metro, and Darcy got some weird looks when she started talking to statues at an art museum… but nothing too out of the ordinary. Maybe we’ll go to the train station on Wednesday and accidentally board the wrong train or something. We’ll see.

 

(Darcy claimed she was just asking directions to the nearest Metro.)

Maybe we'll luck out, though, and I'll go peacefully on my way with only two troubles interrupting my summer break. Though three is a more commonly heard number, I seem to remember either my mom or dad asserting that trouble comes more often in twos... and then staring very hard at my sister and I. Huh.