Warning: beach lovers ONLY

I have been loving life now that the weather is FINALLY warming up- its warm enough to enjoy some beach time, but not warm enough to wear a bikini, so I’m out there in my long pants and cardigan. The best part has been exploring new beaches, which I have been doing every weekend. 

Costa de la Luz

The Costa de la Luz is the coast that I live on and it extends from Tarifa, the southern most city in Spain, up past Cadiz and into the province of Huelva. (This is not to be confused with the Costa del Sol, which is the coast that goes the other direction from Tarifa.) The Costa de la Luz is slightly less touristy than the Costa del Sol, but is still very popular for water sports like kitesurfing, boating, surfing, and also contains natural parks that are good for camping and hiking. It has very diverse terrain, with mountainous forests suddenly becoming beaches, all right next door to a deserty, sandy area covered in weeds- also next door to another beach… Basically, whichever type of terrain you prefer, you can find it in Cadiz- and best of all, you can find it next to a beach. I will run through a few of the beaches that I have enjoyed in the Costa de la Luz so far..

Playa Victoria

Playa Victoria, Cadiz. Of course, I have to start with the beach I live on. I live on Playa Victoria, which is one of the best sections in Cadiz. It is a long stretch of beach in the wealthier part of town that is completely packed during the summery and touristy months. I say ‘summer’ very loosely, because up until the end of December people (including me) were out there enjoying the sun. The street that runs along the beach is full of cafés, restaurants, and pubs that become completely filled with well-dressed people when even the least bit of sun is out. My favorite day on my street is a sunny Sunday afternoon when all the people come out to eat in the outside patios and take walks by the beach (with their equally well dressed kids- the ones I mentioned in an earlier blog post).

The ferry I took to from Tarifa to Tangier

Tarifa. The southern most city of Spain is known as the kite- surfing capital of the world, and with good reason: it is one of the windiest places I have ever experienced. I haven’t spent time on the beach of Tarifa, but I went through through the city to catch the ferry to Tangeir, Morocco. I hear the beach is amazing, and hopefully one day I will have a story to tell about kite-surfing.

Caños de Meca- look closely to see the surfers

Los Caños de Meca, Conil. This is know for being the “hippie” beach, but after being there I would describe it as the “hippie-surfer” beach… or to clarify even further, the “hippie-surfer-nudist” beach. I love the feel of the area, which is not quite deserted but also not quite touristy. There are surrounding little towns that are slightly run- down and mostly consist of places to rent surfboards and wooden shacks to have a drink or something to eat, with a few cheap but pleasant looking hotels nearby. There is only one way to the beach: to actually reach the sand you have to climb down ancient looking rock steps and pass through a stone structure that seems like it was there since before time. To fit in well here requires one of the following: dreadlocks, wetsuits, or your birthday suit. Like I said, think hippie-surfer-nudist.  

La Cala del Aceite, near Chiclana. I have saved the best for last! La Cala del Aceite felt to me like more of a virgin beach than the others, because there are literally no buildings or parking lots within miles. It is surrounded by a cliff and red rocks that jut out from the cliff which you can sit in and around. If you sit in just the right spot, it is easy to imagine being alone on a deserted island. This is what I loved so much about this beach- the feeling of being completely secluded yet surrounded by such beauty. This one deserves two pictures:

La Cala del Aceite view from ocean

La Cala del Aceite view from rocks

Sancti Petri. This beach reminds me most of all of the South Carolina beaches because there are small sand dunes that have small palms and grasses growing on them, and the sand is very white. The unique feature here is the close up view of a castle in the middle of the ocean! There was a castle built on a piece of land that has since been surrounded by water, and all that remains is the castle smack dab in the ocean. I think during tourist season they take people out to visit the castle in boats. 

Sancti Petri Beach with castle in the background

Morocco

Morocco

This was my first venture into Africa, my first experience in a Muslim country, and the first time travelling that I felt significantly out of my comfort zone: more than the typical I’m-lost-and-don’t-speak-the-language type of experience.

However, to begin, a little sightseeing in Marrakesh:

In the courtyard of the palace that separates
the rooms of the 4 official wives

Palace of the Grand Vizir. This is where the Grand Vizir of old days lived with his staff and family, including his 4 official wives and many concubines. One of the most interesting sections of the palace was the royal disco, where the Grand Vizir would host private parties with drinking, dancing, and women. In these parties, the only seeing men were the Vizir and his personal friends. The rest, even the musicians, were blind men trained from birth to serve the king- this was so that they couldn’t witness the goings on that occurred with the women.

Biggest Mosque in Marrakesh

The biggest Mosque in Marrakesh. Apart from being a place of worship, the mosque functions as a center of education and a place where spiritually lost people can come to seek guidance. The three windows on the tower represent what they consider the three most important prophets in history- Abraham, Jesus, and of course, Mohammed.

Pits filled with pigeon poop

Traditional leather making: There are only two places in Morocco that still process leather by hand instead of in an factory setting, and Marrakesh has one of those places. Due to the intense smell of animal flesh, bird feces used for processes and who knows what else, everyone was given a piece of mint to smell as we toured the place. It is basically a group of pits in the ground filled with water and whatever the liquid is that they dip the skins in to turn them into leather. The workers stand thigh deep in the pits and pass the skins from one pit to another to work the magic. As ugly as the process is, the results are beautiful; colorful leather rugs, bags, shoes and much more.

Jemaa Fna Plaza: According to UNFCO World Heritage Sites Jemaa Fna Plaza has various meanings in Arabic, two of which are mosque or assembly of death or mosque at the end of the world.

I couldn’t have said it better myself, considering I felt like I had stepped out of any semblance of morality or decentness and entered a free-for-all, every creature for himself, survival of the fitness zone. The desperation of the people to make money is incredible- but far more incredible, the lengths they will go through to obtain even one dollar. The best way I can describe the feeling of being a foreign female walking around with two other foreign females is to say that we were like gazelles in a lions den. Like Justin Beiber in a mob of 13 year olds. Like flys around my sister Colleen. All that to say, I felt very vulnerable because of the constant pestering and harassing of the vendors. 

However, everyone made it out no worse for the wear and I love the souvenirs that I got in the process. My favorites are a traditional Moroccan tea set and a kilo of dates. Soooo delicious!

The food was a nice change from Spanish food, and I loved getting some actual spicy food for the first time since September. Although some things were more strange than others, I enjoyed about everything that I ate and/or drank. Some highlights:

Amazing pastries that were mostly all made with
almonds or marzipan

Chicken couscous from the plaza. It was very cheap and not
 actually all that good, although I like couscous in general

The name of this dish is tangier, taken from the name of the actual dish it comes in. My favorite meal of the trip! 

Avocado "juice" which is basically blended avocados (I think they add a little milk and sugar as well)- strange but good 

Carnaval- Saturday night and the week following

Cowboys and Indians

As one of my friends so accurately described it, 
Saturday night of Carnaval is a night of 

Cathedral Square packed with people 

debauchery in disguise- quite literally. Everybody –and I mean everybody- puts on a costume and heads to the streets with their friends and their alcohol. The center of Cadiz is not very big, and with all the people it becomes literally masses and masses of giant crowds. Creativity of costumes abounds, with some of the popular disguises being smurfs, Indians, men dressed as women, and pirates. There are no performances or attractions, just people. The night is the epitome of an extremely popular and semi-legal Spanish tradition called botellon. This literally means ‘big bottle’ but in reality it means ‘take bottles of alcohol into the streets and drink with your friends’. 

I coordinated my costume with various other Americans- we went as Cowboys and Indians. I was a cowgirl and between 4 of us we were 2 cowboys and 2 Indians. Other Americans dressed as pirates and flappers. We faced the crowds, joined the festivities, enjoyed ourselves, and everybody made it out alive- or close enough anyway.

My favorite part of Carnaval was actually what began on Sunday afternoon- all the people were in the streets with Moscatel, a type of sweet white or dark sherry, and there were parades, choruses, and chirigota performances that lasted the entire week long. Well, all week long: I should say all month- and even in the beginning week of March the diehard groups are still out there dressed up and singing on the weekends. 

Carnaval parade

Carnaval part 1- Chirigotas

Friday night: watching of the Chirigota finals. A chirigota is the name of the groups of singers that perform each year during Carnaval. These performances are a huge deal, and some groups even begin to practice months and months in advance. The best groups are usually composed of roughly 15 people who have been performing together for years and years, and each consists of mostly singers with one or two instruments, including a guitarist and possibly a drummer. The groups dress up in elaborate themed costumes and perform parodies of songs, replacing the lyrics with humorous lyrics poking fun of politics, the church, the people, etc. (I can’t help but be reminded of Harding’s Spring Sing, although much less politically correct…)

There are two types of Chirigotas; the first are those that perform and compete for weeks leading up to Carnaval. These performances take place in Cadiz’s great theater, La Gran Falla, which is sold out weeks in advance. Friday night is the opening night of Carnaval and the cumulation of all these performances when the best groups of the weeks before compete for first place in the final. This is the night that people stay in with their families and watch the TV- its almost as big a deal as, for example, the American Idol final. Only this final lasts until 4am. (And Mom always said that Idol final lasted too long…)

Los Puretes del Caribe performing in the Gran Falla

Being American, we didn’t have any strong interest in the final, but seeing as how we are trying to appreciate the culture, we put on the show and had a night in front of the TV. My favorite group was called “Los Puretes del Caribe,” and the theme was about the older men who go to the disco to scope out young girls- hilarious.

Illegal chirigota in the street

The second type of Chirigotas is the “illegal” Chirigota. This only means that they are unofficial so they don’t perform in the Gran Falla, but spend the week performing in the streets and restaurants. They will walk from place to place in the street, attracting a huge crowd wherever they stop to perform. Unfortunately, the streets of Cadiz are not very wide, so you can just give up the idea of easily walking by if you happen upon a Chirigota. If you happen to know somebody in a Chirigota, it is common to follow them from place to place in the streets, drinking and chatting with the singers in between performances. It’s like a big, outdoor, transportable, singing house party. 

Men in Tights

Of course, I have to talk about the kids! This is one post of what I’m sure will be many about things I notice about Spanish kiddos. Lately, I’ve been thinking more and more about their appearance. The young children here are normally well dressed, and they frequently look like super cute versions of miniature adults. Whether they are at school or walking around in the street with their parents, I always look and wonder how in the world all the parents have convinced their children to give up the tennis shoes and jeans and replace them with little flats or boots and skirt/tights/leggings. The little girls frequently wear dresses or skirts with matching bows and tights- and not just for Sunday School. I’m talking about a Saturday afternoon walking along the beach. Granted, this doesn’t stop them from running around and being crazy like any normal child. They just look really really cute doing it. If only I had the motivation to dress as a 5 year old Spanish girl…

However, the little boys are my favorite: On a normal day you can see them dressed like little men, with their little sweaters and khaki pants. On special days or sometimes as school uniforms and the smallest boys wear cute shorts with- the best part- tights! At about 5 years old they outgrow the tight-wearing stage but I love seeing the little ones in their brown, white, black, blue, or maroon tights and adorable formal shoes. From what I've seen this style is basically unheard of  for boys in the United States, and every time I see a little boy with his outfit, complete with matching tights I just want to pick him up and give him a huge squeeze. Its so cute!

"Jesusito" at his Mama's wedding

Ese Cai Oeeee!!!!

I fit perfectly in a country where soccer – or should I say FUTBOL- is the most popular sport! It is a strange yet satisfying feeling to being genuinely interested in whatever the sport headline of the day is. The Cadiz soccer team is in the second-tier of teams, meaning that they don’t play the big guns like Real Madrid and F.C. Barcelona. However, they hold their own, and are number one in their division this year with the possibility of moving up next year.

Goooooooooooooool!

This Saturday we Americans decked ourselves in Blue and Yellow and set off to cheer Cadiz on to… a disappointing 1-1 tie versus La Linea. That didn’t damper our enthusiasm, however, and due to our animation and excessive facepaint, our picture made it into the local online newspaper story about the game. This is the 3^rd game I’ve been to and I hope to go to a few more this year.

Have you got a rubber?

I have been discovering a new pet peeve that is growing stronger and stronger as time goes by- having to always distinguish between the United States and Great Britain. This includes: comparing and contrasting the English (theirs is obviously much better, because it originates from England, right?), correcting geographical errors, and just putting up with general ignorance about the two countries. 


For example, I had one of those “did that conversation just happen?” moments the other day. I was in class with about 6-7 students at the end of class. We were chatting about random cultural aspects of the United States. Everything was good until one girl told me that she wanted to go to the United States because she wanted to go to Oxford. Hmmm… I let that one slide while rolling my eyes on the inside. However, it was impossible to ignore when only 2 minutes later the same girl asked me if the meat smelled bad where I live. At first I thought it was just a weird question, and began to say, “no.. I have never really noticed that the meat smells bad in our supermarkets…” She than begin to explain the reasoning for her question.. She has a friend from London who told her that the meat smells bad there. Ahhh THAT explains it. Totally logical. If the meat smells bad in London, then it must smell bad in Albuquerque also. We both speak English, so that is a totally logical connection. 


I respect the fact that England probably is a very nice country, but I honestly wouldn't know! I do know that while there are some differences in language ("Have you got a rubber?" vs "Do you have an eraser?") it is the same language and British people, Americans, Canadians, Australians, Irish, etc are all equally qualified to teach it. The next time somebody 1. Asks me about British culture,  or 2. Trys to explain to me that they can't understand me because I'm American, I might just cry. Or sigh and do what I always do: smile while rolling my eyes on the inside.