Cantabria: The final excursion

Our final excursion with papa duck and the JMU gang was to Cantabria; the northern region of Spain. As Colleen and I joyfully trotted down the streets of Salamanca towards the Tres P with our home-made Bocadillos in hand, I thought about how incredible this whole experience has been. I started to think back to all of the hilarious things that have happened throughout our travels. From waking up in Barcelona with a bazaar allergic reaction that afforded me the opportunity to look like a bloated puffer fish, to threatening the bus driver that there WOULD be urine in his trash can if he didn’t stop soon, I remembered several incidents that I wouldn’t trade for the world.

This particular bus ride to Cantabria was pleasantly scenic. As we escalated up the mountains, I think that everybody on the bus was secretly praying to God for the bus driver to slow down so we wouldn’t fall off the road that seemed to be made for go-karts. These windy mountain roads reminded me of driving in Mexico with Dad and Elliott. Dad frequently feels the need to pass 18-wheelers on a 2-way mountain road while making a 40 degree angled turn. When he realizes that there are usually at least one or two additional 18-wheelers heading in the other direction, he either swerves back into his un-marked lane or guns his Ford Focus hoping that there is indeed a God out there. Usually at this point, Kate and I are holding hands and telling each other we have always loved one another and never meant anything by calling the other person a retard. Unfortunately, the only thing I had in my seat to comfort me on the way to Cantabria was Chelsea Handler’s book, “Are you there vodka? It’s me, Chelsea.”

After several hours of the worst palm sweat I’d experienced since being in Mexico with Dad, we arrived to the prehistoric cave of Puente Viesgo. This was one of the coolest sight-seeing activities we have done all semester. It seemed like it had barely been touched; there were hand prints and cave drawings all over the walls from thousands of years ago. Due to the plethora of water and mineral deposits that had run throughout the cave, the natural rock shapes were so unique and interesting to look at. As I walked around observing the natural history, Sarah kept pointing out rocks that she believed to be representations of fettuccini alfredo and an ice-cream sundays with a cherries on top. This is just one example of how Spain has expanded our minds to look at things from a different perspective.

After our cave visit, we ate our bocadillo feasts and headed to the mountain hotel. Our hotel was literally right smack in the middle of a chain of towering, snow capped mountains. I decided to take advantage of Mother Nature and grabbed my lumber-jack walking stick to hike up the mountains. We hiked for around two hours and took some awesome pictures, I didn’t think it could get any better until I found out the activity we would do the following day.

At around 10 am the next morning, we all piled into a gondola and headed up to the top of the mountain. We stepped out to find a beer-vending machine, and miles of gorgeous, snow capped mountains at our feet. We pranced around the mountains for a few hours. This was DEFINITELY my favorite sight-seeing activity throughout the whole semester, (besides the moment when I first laid eyes on one of the Tron’s home-made empanadas). I can’t even explain the feeling of serenity on top of this mountain; it was unlike anything I’d ever seen.

The next day we hopped on Tres P once again towards Santander. We went to a museum that was a replica of the Altamira cave that was not open to the public. I understand that this was a good replica, but because I had been spoiled the day before by seeing a REAL cave, I thought this was a pretty lame activity. Also, there were at least 20 grandparents standing in front of me during the whole tour emitting their old-people fumes straight into my face – it wasn’t the most pleasant smell in the world. That night we enjoyed our awesome 4-star hotel and went out to a local bar in Santander.

The next day would be our last and final day on our last and final excursion. We walked along the beach in 70 degree weather and saw an outside zoo. Zoo is pronounced like “thoe” in Spanish; just say it out loud like 5 times in a row, you’ll see why it’s kind of funny. Anyways, we saw penguins, seals and sea-lions. I missed Kate a lot when I laid eyes on one penguin that was awkwardly waddling around the rocks by himself after being ostracized from the rest of the penguin clan. If you know Kate, you know why she would remind somebody of a penguin. If not, just imagine a 5’5 petite woman with tiny limbs, hands and feet the size of a 7-year old. Then imagine the girl dancing off beat like she has absolutely no control over these baby-sized limbs. Hence, the reason my sister reminds me of a lonely penguin.

After that awesome day, we boarded Tres P for the last time and headed back to the ‘Manc. I suppose that on a normal day I would have been pretty sad that this was my last excursion. However, the following day was Lunes de Aguas. This day of fiesta marked the historic date when prostitutes were allowed back into the city of Salamanca after lent. That being said, the tradition was that people would picnic and drink by the river all day and welcome the prostitutes back into the city as they crossed the river. Evidently, there are no more prostitutes journeying across the river now-a-days, but according to the Tron, who doesn’t mind legal prostitutes, there are still a few slutting it up uncomfortably close to the location of our JMU office. Prostitutes or no prostitutes, nothing stops people from taking the day off and drinking 40’s and wine under the sun. Also, part of the tradition is to eat Hornazo which is basically like a meat pie/pastry. Thanks to the plethora of Spanish holidays that let us off school, our vacation from a vacation has not ended yet. Thursday is yet another Spanish holiday called Valverde. I have no idea what this holiday stands for, but I do know that I am not going to class and instead will be riding horses all day and having a picnic with all the madres – I’m not complaining.