a Hobbit’s First Adventure
Prologue
There are many ways to start a travelogue. Some of the great works of our era — On the Road by Jack Keroauc, The Motorcycle Diaries by Che Guevara, The Phantom Tollboth by Norton Juster, just to name a few. There are few better or more meaningful to me than The Hobbit by JRR Tolkien. I can think of no words more fitting for the intro of this travelogue than the words of that great master, written so many decades ago, and yet still so meaningful now, in a world that is stranger and more beautiful than ever before:
“It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.”
Day 1 & 2
Before getting on the plane to Spain
Writing this newsletter after 36+ hours of traveling
There comes a time in every young would-be Hobbit’s life when they must set aside the books and the comforts of home to go out on an adventure. Granted, for most Brandybucks and Tooks and other Shirefolk this is not much more than a day’s stroll to the Prancing Pony. But there are those, like our dear Baggins of Bag End, who are just so crazy enough to jump on their pony and go chasing after the horizon.
While I have yet to discover a ring of power, a dragon’s hoard, or even a good night’s sleep in the first few days of my trip, I have already started to discover the unique joys and quirks of traveling alone. To chronicle my adventures, in part out of deference to the grand tradition of Bilbo Baggins, I have created this espilatory email chain. There will be photos; there will be bad puns and literary references. Although this is certain to be the longest of my missives to you, dear reader, please be warned that these letters are sent to you at your own risk. If you have not the time, the temperament, or the inbox space, please let me know and I will merely recount my deeds upon our next meeting.
The Good
Buying tickets for a 9+ hour flight is daunting, even if you’re just traveling alone. But if you have to keep together a family of 6 when English is not your first language, it becomes an almost Herculean task. Luckily, when a Stressed Dad discovered that the seat he booked was in the back of the plane instead of with his family, I offered to trade my seat for his to keep the family together. The whole family showered me with praise and gratitude, which left me strutting back to the “extreme” cozy section of the plane.
The Better
The stewards, touched by my gesture to trade seats, offered to move me up to Premium Economy. Not only was this two steps above where I had originally been flying, I had the entire row to myself!!
Add in the surprise dinner, the complimentary sparkling wine, and the continual attentive treatment of the stewards and I felt like I had accidentally exchanged my headphones for a crown. But it gave me some much needed sleep for the following day, and a full stomach to face another flight and the arduous gauntlet to getting to my hotel.
The Yummy
After tumbling into my itty bitty hotel room, I began my quest to find dinner on the streets of Madrid. I have no idea why, but the city was mobbed with people. I managed to sneak into the Mercado San Miguel, which is a covered food market a la Pikes Place Market. I grabbed some churros, some empanadas for my train ride tomorrow, and was soon barreled back out onto the street as the crowd inside met critical mass. But not to worry! After another two hours of looking for a place “authentic enough”, I ended up getting a smoothie and salad. So healthy! So fresh! So unfilling! (So stayed tuned for when I hunt down some gelato in my near future…)
The Magic Eight Ball
Tomorrow is Cordoba and then onward on to Seville. I’ll be taking the train between cities, so here’s hoping that the Spanish countryside serves as a bucolic backdrop for this young Hobbit’s continuing quest!
Day 3
Without a trusty Sancho Panzo at my side, much of my (mis)adventures were witnessed only by my phone and the occasional bemused stranger. What exploits are worthy of retelling I have scribed below, along with such photos as I could think to take. It is a weary, but contented, knight errant that jots down these words tonight — hoping that you too may join in some of this day’s delights!
Trainhopping
Fun fact: in Spain, there is a training event for the running of the bulls that all must participate in to get across the country. It is the running of the trains!
Each day, the gates for trains are posted minutes before the trains are set to depart, triggering a mad scramble to fill the carriages with suitcases, children, band equipment, and beloved pets (including what I think was a baby pig!). Thankfully, my trips from Madrid to Cordoba and Cordoba to Seville were mostly uneventful — I even got a chance to finish Ursula Le Guin’s Wizard of Earthsea, which is a tale perfect for a wandering knight in search of a Quest! Other highlights of the train ride include seeing fields of orange orchards, cows/sheeps/piggies, and the beautiful botanical gardens of Madrid’s Atocha Station!
The Girl Who Came in From the Cold
March, even in the south of Spain, can be chilly! I have been lucky enough to ward away chills with a mixture of coffee, hot chocolate, and empanadas. Unfortunately, the one day I left my rain jacket in my suitcase is also the one day it absolutely dumped rain. I was inside the breathtaking Mosque-Cathedral of Cordoba for most of it, but by the time I made it back to the train station for my ride to Seville, I looked like a kitten who had fallen into a bathtub. There was only cure for this terrible curse of fate — the fabled cafe con leche de Tren de Cordoba!
My gallant hosts in Seville excused the sorry state of the bedraggled and beleaguered knight, and allowed me to enjoy the luxurious delights of a heated shower and solitary abode, fit even for the fair queens of the continent!
The Girl Who Ate Too Much
Today was the first day I got to try jamon Iberico — and, as surprised as I am to say it, it really does live up to the hype! At the tables of a local tavern, I feasted with local merchants and tradesmen on a comely meal of the driest-goddamn-bread in all of Europe and sliced ham that was at once as sweet, savory, and salty. That kept me fed on my ramblings of Cordoba, but by the time I staggered into the streets of Seville, even my ultimate quest could not keep me from dining. In celebration and gratitude for surviving the Great Drowning on Land, I treated myself to a Especial de Casa — grilled steak with roasted Serrano peppers, roasted potatoes, and a glass of red wine. What solace such a fine feast brings to us dear adventuring souls! It was as wonderful as the fair Dulcinea, and as fulfilling as all the glory of the King’s Court. Add in a (very) large hot chocolate, and it was a day full of feasting, one that will keep this knight’s heart full for many days on.
From Sevilla With Love,
Hannah
Day 4
Listening to the tour guide explain the different regional types of jamon in Andalucia while waiting to stuff my face with more tapas
For those who noticed the dramatic pause between this email and the last, my sincere apologies! Last night I was out late eating tapas, drinking wine, and dodging the nonstop rain of Seville. Today (indeed, in the next few minutes!) I leave for the coastal city of Malaga to visit the Pablo Picasso Museum and (hopefully) find the Sun!
The Lost and the Curious
Castles, we know, we love em, and it’s easy to think once you’ve seen one palatial mansion you’ve seen them all. But The Real Alcazar of Sevilla is the Real deal — the carefully sculpted walls, the vaulted ceilings, the hand crafted gardens really help you appreciate the value of words like “intricate” and “ornate” and “how the hell did anyone ever have so much time”.
Because I was there so early, I got the palace to myself for about twenty minutes before the swarms of tourists arrived. I was delighted to see not just one, but several couples on dates — sorry, did I say couples? I meant birds! There were pairs of ducks, duos of swans, even a peacock and a peahen taking a stroll. ‘Twas tres romantique, made all the funnier by the fact they all seemed to treat me as a third wheel.
2 Lost 2 Curious
After wandering around the palace grounds for about an hour longer than I intended (you would not believe how easy it is to rediscover the same area of the gardens but not find la salida), I went on a self guided tour of the city. Walking up the promenade, exploring more of the Mercados, and just generally enjoying the sunny weather, I was shocked to see an overturned car and a crowd of people. Even more alarming, there was a bunch of vehicles called BOMBEROS everywhere. After some frantic googling, I discovered that there is an entire convention for emergency rescue operations going on this weekend — the overturned car was actually a water-rescue demonstration!
I like to think that there are Olympics-esque contests for the emergency rescue folks, but alas such information was lost in translation.
Lost Five
Returning to my home base after several hours of walking, I ended up taking a much needed siesta. It was only supposed to be about an hour, but I slept for almost five hours!!
It felt great, though, and I got the impression that it rained so much in the afternoon that the only thing I really missed was another long shower.
Curious 7
At 7:00, I met up with a group of tourists for a tapas tour of Seville. There were two sets of British couples (one from northern, one from southern), a Dutch couple, and a Montreal couple, so I was now the ninth wheel! Everyone was super nice and the food was superb — I only wish I could have had more!
By the time we finished at 10, we had tried tapas at five different local spots and had glasses of vermouth, red wine, sangria, and sparkling wine (which they called “kava”).
Hasta la Vista! Love & Hugs,
Hannah
Day 5
Coming back to a clean, quiet hotel room after a long day of traveling
I Can’t Believe It’s Not Raining!
After almost forty-eight hours of running away from storm clouds, I finally found the sun again on the Costa del Sol!
To celebrate such a glorious occasion, I walked up to Castillo de Gibralfaro y Alcazaba — the “lighthouse rock” and the “citadel” that tower above the old city of Malaga. It was a long steady uphill, with breathtaking views, and even a few castle kitties that meowed and chased tourists around. After spending most of my day on a train, it was a wonderful way to stretch my legs and get to know another port city.
This city reminds me the most of my trip last year to the Bay of Kotor and Croatia — the winding streets, the crowds of cruise tourists (yes even in early March!), the domineering fortress set high above the city. I tried to imagine what it was like when the Muslims and the Christian empires were battling it out for this coast, but all I could think of was how much I was ready for a tasty tapa!
Easy, Breezy, Beautiful… Malaga
Malaga had many surprises for me the first night. After falling in love with Seville, I was certain that there would not be much for me here for me to enjoy… but it’s too beautiful to not be charmed!
It was the last day of a movie festival, so there was a red carpet parade full of actresses and screaming fans. I like to think that some of the extremely well dressed people I squeezed by were some of the Uber Rich and Famous of Europe, but honestly I don’t know. It made me homesick a little for watching movies with the family!
After scarfing down way too many empanadas, I also scored my first gelato of the trip. It was fun to try and eat it while also looking around at all of the different tourists wandering the city. Someone mentioned that it’s peak tourist season here in the South of Spain, which is a little wild to me. I guess everyone thinks what I think — maybe the South of Spain will be warm after so much cold!
And now, to the future!
Today (Sunday the 10th), I’ll be visiting the Pablo Picasso Museum and doing some shopping. Hopefully I’ll be able to find something unique for my new office!
Someone asked if I’ve been able to keep up with the Spanish here — not even a little!
I can order things, ask for directions, and just generally apologize for not speaking the language, but anytime anyone asks me any question, I barely understand where one word starts and the next begins. I have picked up a few new phrases (“Que tel?”, “Tiendo”, “Tengo”) but mostly I just mix up what I’m trying to say — at one point I tried to tell the waiter I have a bathroom, instead of asking where it is!
I also was able to overcome my travel tummy with some drugs, lots of sleep, and lots of water — LMNT packets are my go to cure all for travel sickness and they have yet to fail me when I need it most. Part of today’s mission is to hunt down some vegetables and/or fruit since I haven’t had much yet on this trip.
Day 6
Artistic rendition of me taking it easy under the first day of Sun
Malaga, She Wrote
Today’s newsletter might just be the shortest one of the whole trip!
There’s nothing much to write about for yesterday’s adventures — I walked and I walked and I walked around Malaga, then crashed at a tapas bar and sipped sangria until I walked and walked and walked some more
I think if I had it over to do again, I would have skipped Malaga for a day trip to Ronda or an extra day in Granada, but it was fun to have a more chill day to take things slow. I know that I have to keep my momentum going for a while yet!
I did stop by the Picasso museum, only to discover that most of the museum was under renovation — this left out about four Picassos in the whole museum!
The other pieces were also very strange and beautiful, but I had been hoping to see some of Picasso’s Indian ink work and bizarre cubes. Guess that’s a reason to come back!
Today, it’s onward to Granada — everyone’s favorite place to visit, if I understand correctly. I hope that it’s not nearly as crowded with tourists as Malaga has been, but considering its reputation in the South, I won’t be surprised if it is. Thankfully I’m small and sneaky so most crowds can’t keep up with me!
Love & Hugs!
Hannah
Day 7
Trying to warm up and find something to watch after walking around Granada all day
🌄🚂🚃🏖️
After waking up early to get to the train station, I left the coast behind to head to Granada. This was the first beautiful train ride of the trip but despite my valiant efforts, the shiny reflections on the window ruined every photo I tried to take. Needless to say, the mountains of southern Spain are muy bonito!
I have yet to ride on the same train twice but they’re all super fast, super easy, and super relaxing — I’ve already cranked through three more books while zipping around and have got a nice little stack for my last few rides!
If only they’d let me take the trains of Europe home as a souvenir…
🚶♀️🗻🚶♀️☕️🚶♀️🧃🚶♀️🌯🚶♀️🌌🚶♀️
I ended up walking almost all day yesterday — I think my watch logged 30k steps!!
I snuck in a few stops along the way, from getting more coffee and a fruit smoothie (my stomach was very grateful for the latter), to going up to one of the scenic overlooks to admire the beautiful views of the city
Granada feels like a medieval town in a way totally unique to itself — different than the Catholic glory of Avignon, different than the ancient streets of Bath, even different than the actually medieval streets of Dubrovnik and Rottenburg!
I keep being caught off guard by the flocks of taxis and buses zipping around tight corners, driving up the cobblestone streets — you’d just as soon expect horses and carriages!
Tomorrow I’ll get up early to visit the Alhambra — I’ve learned to arrive super early to popular tourist destinations so I’m one of the first people in. After that, you guessed it, more walking!
Love you and miss you,
Hannah
PS — so many have sent well wishes and excitement since I started writing these! I haven’t had a chance yet to sit down and reply to them all, but I’ll try to make some time before the end of my trip
Day 8
The Knights Who Say No Entry!
Unfortunately, due to a malfunctioning alarm clock and some truly atrocious Google Maps directions, I missed my entrance time for the Alhambra by thirty minutes. Since the policy is you can arrive up to fifteen minutes late, I had hoped that they would show mercy on my poor beleaguered soul, but the guy guarding entry was…colorful, to say the least. Thankfully, the two women in the gift shop took pity on my frustration and embarrassment and snuck me a souvenir for free. Not the same thing as getting to see one of the great marvels as all of Spain and yet, in its own way, it is a true marvel.
She’s Got Huge…. Tracts of Land!
Feeling more than a little despondent, I started wandering anround, half hoping to find a place to soak in the warmth of the sun, half hoping to just find something interesting. I very quickly realized that the Alhambra grounds are massive. Beyond the castle itself, there’s easily a thousand acres of other (older and less well kept) castles, gardens, orchards, and whatever else the Moops put in half a millennium a go. My stroll back to the apartment became a truly epic hike, going all the way around the mountainous hills surrounding the Alhambra, dodging insane cyclists (finally all that training in Boulder doing the same thing paid off!), and becoming more and more flabbergasted at the beauty surrounding the Alhambra. It was like a national park hidden around the castle! By the time I stumbled back into my room, I had logged another fifteen miles on my clock and was so hungry I could have eaten my pillow. Thankfully, I was able to blindly stumble into a tapas bar and wolf down a half dozen croquettes (which are still the highest ranking tapas I have yet tried).
Bring Out Your Deaf!
After a much needed siesta (and a desperate attempt to repack my suitcase, which had detonated after I had done some sink-laundry), I attempted to take a nice hot shower to make myself presentable, only to discover (cue horror soundtrack) no hot water.
The goddamn apartment has only a teeny tiny itty bitty water heater, barely enough to warm myself, much less wash myself. I knew I’d be reminded of my trip to the Caribbean at some point but this was just unfair!
Still, thus cleaned, I dragged my aching legs up the hills of Granada up to to El Tempo del Flamenco, where I would see my first flamenco performance in a cave.
I had to laugh when I saw where they had put me — in the very back corner, in the very far side of the cave. True, I had (erroneously) opted out of the included dinner, and true, I was by myself. But with all the calories I had burned, the sudden need for food was made even worse by realizing I was about two hours from my next plate, while everyone else dug in to a wide variety of Spanish classics. Lest ye think I am smart, I am truly a foolish knave!
The performance was spellbinding — in all my time listening and watching music, I’ve never heard guitar played like that before. The dancers, despite looking vaguely constipated the entire time, slammed and clapped with enough energy and magic it was impossible to keep up with them. I especially loved when one of them brought out her shawl and danced with it like it was a living thing!
Back to Camelot (aka my Airbnb)
After feasting on a massive plate of couscous and chicken and raisins (sweet and savory and salty and perfect), I collapsed into bed, falling asleep even before I took my clothes off!
Today, I go to the Hammam Baths for a well needed and well earned spa day. I’m actually a little nervous, since it’s my first ever professional massage!
Love and hugs to all,
Hannah
Day 9
Good food after a good bath after a good day == blissful Hannah
It’s Such a Perfect Day
I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about going to the Hammam Baths. Although I had had a taste of what Turkish baths could be, a la Budapest’s Rudis Baths, there’s a big difference between going to a vast complex where everyone does their own thing and visiting a cozy spa where everyone caters to you. I ended up going with about three couples and a group of four women, making me the sole solo member of the party. While this was nothing new, it made moving from bath to bath especially strange as two — or even four — sets of eyes jumped to my face as I walked into the water. It’s worth taking a moment to talk about the four women, who I’m half convinced were either Buddhists or witches or Buddhist witches. They were all pushing their sixties, with long blonde dreads and an assortment of blue tattoos. One of them had so many she looked closer to Yakuza than American, as her accent implied! Though polite, they had a way of looking at you like they were counting all the ways you were unworthy. Not even in a condescending way, more just like a pitying “sucks to be Unchosen, huh buddy?”
I had to take a giant sip of tea when I heard them start whispering about temples and students — it was too perfectly weird!
Putting them aside, the baths were exquisite. I jumped into the cold water and then ran (as serenely and spa-friendly as I could) to the hot water baths. The pins and needles explosion was enough to make my eyes water, but it filled me with a much needed caffeine boost. Plus then I got a massage!
I won’t dwell on that too long just bc it was exactly what you’d expect — warm, luxurious, and weirdly intimate. The woman massaging me used an exfoliant that tickled my arms so bad I had to make faces to keep from laughing — thankfully I had my head turned down for that part of the massage!
And I think to Myself… What a Wonderful World
After leaving behind the baths (and taking advantage of their unlimited hot water for a shower), I went back on my usual hike around the grounds of the Alhambra. I had thought that after wandering around for the past two days, I’d have gotten my map of Granada down, but I found myself as turned around as ever, seeing new things with every turn. It’s the closest I’ve ever felt to being like a Disney princess and a scroungy old bridge troll at the same time — any time I saw a group of tourists I got all territorial, though of course they had just as much right to be there as me!
I also snagged a few more souvenirs, including one special one for myself, from an artisanal woodworking shop that’s been run by the same family for three generations. If I was wealthy and had eccentric tastes, I’d dedicate an entire room in my house to their work — I’ve never seen such beautiful art laid into wood. I really wanted to get something with a pomegranate, Granadas namesake, but because of the wood they used it was very very very expensive. But still, a reason to come back methinks!
For dinner, I treated myself (as if I’ve ever been not spoiling myself) to a fancy dinner. I’ve been lucky enough to have two unreal, unbelievably, indescribable, ineffable, delicious, perfect, and just down right damn good meals in Spain. This was the second: fried tuna tartare with baked cheesecake and Alhambra beer. I couldn’t even begin to describe how beautifully the mango and avacado and tuna went together. It was light and refreshing and *swoons* perfecto! The waiter was so touched by my compliments he brought over the chef who looked more confused than happy (but hey, the man makes a mean fish)
For my last night in Granada, it was perfect!
Day 10
When Nelson the Portugese Waterdog barks at you but just to let you know he’s not afraid of you or your stinky travel wear
The Little Traveler that Could
After six hours of train travel, I have made it to Valencia! There is not much to tell about this part, other than I was grateful to have a window seat, and that dining cars are thrilling but not quite as much fun when it’s standing room only.
Yesterday was a long day, and a bittersweet one at that. As much as I am excited for this week, my time in Granada was beautiful in only a way that solo adventuring could be. But now it’s time for the longest — and most bizarre — part of my voyage, Las Fallas!
Las Who-the-What Now?
Las Fallas are beautiful sculptures made by little groups of artists (also called Fallas) that are spread throughout the city of Valencia. Today is the Planta, when the Fallas are finished and the judging begins. The judging will continue through until Saturday, when The Offering begins (La Ofrenda), and the whole city fills with dancing women and men armed with firecrackers. Already, the streets rock at night with random whizzes, bangs, booms, and all around mayhem. It’s a “tame” night as it is the first one, but I am assured that it will only get wilder from here!
Charlie y Nelson y Silvia y Hannah
To help ease myself into this wild world of bedlam, I have chosen to stay with Charlie and Silvia. Picture them in your mind: Charlie, tall, lanky, British, with slightly crooked eyes, slightly crooked nose, and a way of talking about life as if everything that has happened to him as at once entirely his fault and entirely a surprise. Silvia, beautiful, small, Spanish, with soft brown curls and a smile that lights up the room, and a way of widening her eyes and laughing every time she translates something confusing you said (because I am a clumsy talker, this happens a lot). Nelson, their four-year-old puppy, is a great lumbering teddy bear, who cheerfully barks at you (just to remind you he’s the boss), carries around his favorite little ball (which he solemnly squeaks at you when he wants attention), and offers up his head and belly and butt for scratches and pats with great abandon. Needless to say, Nelson and I were thick as thieves by the end of the night.
Between the random explosions in the background, I heard about how Silvia is from La Mancha (!!! Don Quixote is from there as well !!!) and how Charlie is from… well I never really got a good answer on that point, but he’s lived everywhere. Silvia helps everyone from Japanese documentarians to local businesses with product design and branding, Charlie… (did you make that sculpture over there? With paper mache? Oh, I didn’t realize oil paints are hard to work with. Yes I’m sure they smell quite nice) …Charlie is an artist who answers questions in his own way and with his own flourishes.
The Festival Begins (Day 0)
Today I will do my best to see as many of the 900 Fallas as I can, while avoiding the firecrackers, partygoers, and wide-eyed tourists like myself. Until then,
Loves and Hugs from the Land of Fireworks!
Hannah
Day 11
Fallas of the day
Instead of my usual funny foto, I’ll share with you one of my favorite snippets from the Fallas. These Fallas are built from a variety of woods and foam materials and are made to bring attention to different topics, from social media to tourism to disabilities. Today they are being set up and tomorrow they will all be judged (indeed as I staggered to a coffee shop to write this newsletter, I almost ran into a flock of judges!)
I would walk 500 miles…
It should come as no surprise to you that my main activity in Spain has been walking. It’s cheap, it’s easy, and you get the added perk of seeing stuff!
What better place to walk around then València, where the Fallas are scattered about over a several mile radius, in between towering buildings and tucked between bustling squares.
The Fallas are some of the most elaborate pieces of art I’ve ever seen. Even after passing by the same one multiple times, you’ll often find yourself staring at something new. My favorite part is how the art style feels like cartoons come to life — you really feel as if you’re walking amongst cartoons!
And I would walk 500 more…
With the crowds being as big as they are (they start at 9am and grow until midnight, then slowly die away — but you’ll still see huge crowds at 2am!), I was a little hesitant to go see the Mescalata, or the daily fireworks show. I decided to compromise and stand on one of the side streets next to where the show would be debuting. Think of it like sitting in the nosebleed bleachers for a sports ball game — you won’t see much but there’ll still be a bit of fun.
By the time 2:00pm rolled around, I was ready to attempt scaling the buildings like Spider-Man just to get out of the crowd. It was P A C K E D tight.
And for good reason — when the show began it was almost like a concert rather than a fireworks show.
The booms and bangs of the fireworks were coordinated so that it was a roll of thunder then a crash of sparks — it reminded me of the way that the ocean sometimes sounds musical with how the waves hit the coast. The end of the show was so violent and loud the windows were rattling in their frames all around us!!
Thankfully I had very good earplugs so while I heard it, I didn’t have to worry about my ears being blown out — although remember kids, if you’re standing close to fireworks / loud noises, keep your mouth slightly open to protect against pressure!
And 500 more…
By the time I made it to lunch, I had clocked in 10 miles and was ready to eat my arm off. I foolishly ordered a Big Meal of banana French toast, cheesecake, and coffee — while delicious in the moment, I felt like I was more sugar than human by the time I made it home
After a siesta, I wandered around a few museums and met up with my hosts for tapas
Now I foolishly thought we’d go out for an hour or two then go home for a quiet night in — instead, we drank and ate and talked and walked and laughed until two am
Seeing the Fallas lit up at night is a wild experience — so is standing around a barrel talking about the history of La Mancha while munching on hard cheese and ham and sipping yet another glass of tinto!
A little fun fact — as much as 10% of Valencia’s population directly helps build the Fallas and the surrounding architecture (they’ve all got matching coats depending on the Fallas they work on which is very cool)
By the time I staggered into bed, I could barely form coherent thoughts.
I had to remember to put my ear plugs back in though — right outside my window, a gang of young hoodlums (aka twelve year old boys) were still detonating fireworks to their hearts content
Weary love and hugs,
Hannah
Day 12
Race to that Mountain
After nursing myself through my hangover, I was invited to accompany Charlie and Silvia up to a potluck up in the mountains north of Valencia. Although the mountains are only an hour from the coast, the drive quickly went from palm trees and colorful buildings to rolling hills of scrub and red rocks — it was like driving from Croatia to Colorado!
As we drove, we talked about more of Charlie’s misadventures (including about how he used to live in a cave) and how many of the people who live in the south of Spain are coming from the far north.
When we got to the party, I was surprised to hear that most everyone had strong British accents! Out of the nine or so people there, only two were from Valencia, which I found really interesting. Most others were teachers who had come down from England for a change or for adventure or both. One of them, Rob, told me a story about he used to have to rescue kids at the tidepools in England because the tide would turn so fast even the adults would stuck! (It was a very funny story, full of waddling pantomimes and him almost falling out of his chair)
The host of the party, John, was super impressed that I might be going to space one day and insisted that, when I go to to the moon, I blow him a kiss and wave “to this a-most special and most a-beautiful place”
Half of the party was conducted in Spanish and so it was often me just sitting back and soaking in the music of it while giving Nelson some much wanted belly rubs (if I stopped to get some food or water, he’d whip his head around and look at me until I came back)
After the manic chaos and crowds of Fallas, it was nice to just relax in the sun and feel at home in Spain. It was almost like being at the folks festival or back home on the porch — just a different family, different laughter
We got home to the sound of fireworks and firecrackers filling the city. Although I’m getting used to the sudden bangs and flashes, there are some that are so loud and so abrupt you can’t help but jump out of your skin!
Charlie and I stayed up late talking, although what we actually said probably didn’t make a whole lot of sense. There’s a kind of jazz to conversations in Spain — you improvise with the other person and sometimes it works out and sometimes you have no idea what the other is saying because they’re talking about the countryside of Idaho and you’re talking about the philosophy of being. We finally called it when Nelson started to snore and I crashed into bed to the sound of the finale fireworks (every night ends with a big crash from town hall)
I got no new photos from the entire day, but it feels like it was worth it to see the true heart of Spain
Day 13
I’m cheating a bit today by including three different ninots, or key figures of the Fallas, as a Fallas for the Fallas of the day. Each year, one ninot is voted to be spared from burning, and the three above were chosen and preserved in the Fallas museum.
The first is from 1980 and shows the balance of the pensioners, where three old men demonstrate how easy it is to live on retirement.
The second is from 1976 and pokes fun at how the end of the dictatorship in Spain has opened up the country to less conservative ideas — including a flood of leaflets designed for the male audience!
The third is from 1943 and is the first caricature of the Fallas. It is of one of the black marketeers of Spain at that time, who became more and more daring in postwar Spain.
Living La Vida Loca
After something of a late start, I started yesterday by walking back around to inspect more of the Fallas I could find. I had thought to be sneaky and beat the crowds, but even by 10am it was so packed in places it was like trying to slip through a herd of cattle!
Even more fun (and funny) were the parades of fallirenas and fallirenos— men and women of the Fallas — walking to the Ofrenda, or to the statue of the Virgin. The parades are full of a wide range of ages, people, and instruments but the costumes stay relatively constant: these big beautiful homemade flower printed gowns and Princess Leia style hairdos for the women and these hand embroidered brightly colored vests and tights and bandana-things (for lack of a better word) for the men. It’s a long day for the people in the Ofrenda — the parades started at 9am and continued on until after midnight, with nonstop music and celebrating. I think what happens is that it is a very slow parade - each group waits their turn like a tail gate, eating and drinking and playing games in the streets even while still in their full regalia.
There’s so many parades going on, it sometimes feels like you’re being chased through the streets. You’ll go up a few blocks, thinking you’ve escaped them, and then you’ll hear the music echoing off the buildings but in a new direction. It’s not so bad to watch the parade the first time but you quickly learn that it takes a long long time for them to walk by and so you see this sort of weird mix of people just stopping in the middle of walking to see the parade and people breaking out into runs to beat them to where they are going
Silvia was telling me that is a very special and sacred ceremony and can be very emotional to see the final steps, so tomorrow I’m going to the statue of the virgin to see the end of the Ofrenda ceremony. She also says that it’s very common to see babies carried in wooden baskets, still dressed up in the traditional dresses, and that sounds absolutely adorable and hilarious.
One of my favorite parts about the festival at night is seeing little little little babies with massive headphones over their ears looking around at everything like O.o
The Girl from Rusafassa
After fighting my way through the crowds, I headed northwest to see the newer part of town. It was very surreal because one moment you are amidst these very old and very grave statues and buildings and the next you feel like you are walking onto a Star Wars set!
I was especially grateful for the lack of explosions so I could sit and enjoy the peace and quiet without flinching. You come to appreciate the moments when people don’t catch you off guard during Fallas!
Because of Spains weird eating habit and the festival, it can often be quite difficult to find food if you have a particular hankering. While there’s always churros and patatas bravas available, I wanted to find a nice little restaurant that wasn’t overflowing with people. My search began at 12 and lasted until 3, when I staggered into a sushi restaurant ready to fall over from being so sick of walking. I was lucky that the restaurant did not observe the normal break between lunch and dinner — near where I’m staying, the restaurants are almost always overfull until 2pm when everyone leaves either for cafe or for home until 8pm, when the restaurants open again. You’d think I’d be used to the food schedule here but it is a weirdly tricky balancing act. I think if I had a buddy it’d actually be easier!
Mais Que Nada
I wish I could tell you I did more than yesterday other than walk, but that is truly what you do during Fallas. You walk and eat and walk and flinch because some little punk set off a loud banger of a firecracker that was so powerful you feel it in your teeth and you walk some more and you run into a dance party of people crowded together with a band playing super fast fun music, with men putting so much energy into what they’re doing that everyone who isn’t there to dance simply stops and stares in awe and you walk some more
I did have some faint aspirations of getting to a marathon walked in a day, but I quickly realized that despite my best efforts that would be beyond what was possible for my poor legs. As it was, by the time I fell into bed to try and sleep, my legs felt less like legs and more like tubes of sand
Love and hugs from España!
Hannah
Ps — while my ability to understand Spanish has gotten better, there is a direct correlation between how coherent I am in Spanish and how tired I am
More cafe == more fluent!
Day 14
Today’s Fallas of the day is the big bad wolf, made of carefully grown straw. I actually ran into this beauty while the lead designer was being interviewed for a Japanese documentary on the festival, hence why you can’t see him in his full glory.
Because many Fallas are made using polystyrene foam and other plastics, there is a new push to embrace more sustainable and green (and frankly human friendly) materials. The use of Polystyrene is relatively new — only since the 1980s / 90s. Originally, Fallas were made using a mixture of wood and paper machie!
This Little Piggy went to the Aquarium
València is home to the largest aquarium in all of Europe. Although I have complicated feelings about zoos / aquariums, I really wanted the chance to see their belugas.
Belugas are such silly creatures and, being a silly creature myself, I eagerly left an hour early to get a head start in the line.
While I was one of the first people in line, something else happened that utterly baffled and delighted me.
In America, in my experience at least, zoos and aquariums and museums are often flocked with bands of roving children, who share my delight for animals, but have not yet mastered the delicate art of Not Screaming with Delight or Not Crowding Around. Like most experiences, going to the aquarium is best served with few other people and so I was a bit resigned to sharing my own (internal) giddiness with that of the Youths.
Imagine my surprise, therefore, when over two hundred elders lined up behind me. They were all cheerful as could be, laughing and talking and pointing at different areas of the aquarium they wanted to explore. One even pulled out a pack of stickers and started giving them out. My favorite were the old men who pushed their way forward to get their smiley face sticker then carefully rubbed them and inspected them with big smiles on their faces.
When we were finally let in, I was told that sadly my aquarium ticket was for the 19th and the 18th. I had to leave my new found crowd of seniors behind and set off in search of Fallas.
This Little Piggy Went Northeast
In my quest to see all of the specially commissioned Fallas (the super big ones that are the most elaborate / expensive / wild looking), I charted a course around the old city and into the depths of Valencia. Those of you who have been keeping track might notice that by this point I had already logged close to 30 miles of walking in the past forty eight hours — what was the harm, I thought, of logging another 10-15 more.
As it turns out, the other Fallas are all awesome (no surprise there), but they all start to follow a similar sort of pattern. You’d think that with literally everything and anything to satirize, they’d get pretty creative, but many had the same recurring themes: Man (usually surrounded by water, blue, and seriously frowning), Woman (usually surrounded by flowers, pink/green/yellow/orange, and smiling benevolently), Supernatural Character (there’s a wider range here — devils, aliens, robots are all common), and Silly Character (the true caricature and goofball of the group).
In the past, ie the beginning of the festival, it was important to show life’s little quirks — the everyday weirdness and frustrations we all have to overcome. You have your black marketing yaya, your pigeon thief, and so on.
Over time, this moved to more goofy satires of life’s events — the balancing pensioners, the hippie yayos, and so on — as well as more acidic satires of Spains living conditions — the Indiana Jones Fallas comes to mind, which shows Indy helping a small child through the “jungle” of València in the 1980s, when drugs and crime were a serious problem.
Now we’ve entered this era where there’s two types of Fallas — the super beautiful, elaborate, storytelling fallas that seem not to have any satirical meaning at all, but are simply works of art, and the smaller, more cutting Fallas that seem to really want to underscore a problem with the modern world. It makes me wonder how the Fallas get approved / designed — if the city has the final say or if the Fallas communities just kinda do what they want.
This Little Piggy Done Hurt Her Knee
Remember when I said I thought I could log another 15 miles today?
Turns out that wasn’t the best idea.
After walking for so much on such a hard surface, my joints are in full rebellion. I almost hobbled myself walking home from my final Fallas tour and so have decreed myself to be easygoing for the rest of the trip.
The true tragedy of this is that I know I won’t be able to go back to see some of the Fallas I really loved because they are simply too far away — same thing with the aquarium, which would be a six or seven mile trip minimum.
So it goes sometimes — it gives me an excuse to come back and it also teaches me a valuable lesson about hubris and kneecaps.
This Little Piggy Got a Fancy Drink
As any good self pitying hobbit would, I decided to console the sorrow of lost money by spending more money on overpriced cocktails.
I went to the Cafe Madrid, which was an Art Nouveau styled bar full of vintage photos and posters. It was very cool and I had to bite back a laugh at how the waitress overplayed my deconstructed Negroni (Campari in one glass, vermouth / gin in the other), as if it was the most bitter and daring drink in the bar.
The one weird quirk to the Negroni was that they put a pickled onion to the Campari, which didn’t make sense to me, but I didn’t complain.
This Little Piggy Got Flashbanged and Went Home
While trying to get to the Plaza de Virgin to see the Fallas communities bring their offerings to the Giant Wooden Virgin Statue made of Flowers, a little punk through a massive firework right in front of a crowd of us. It was like having an LED headlight thrown at my face and then a thunderclap burst right next to my ears. While the pressure wave was super cool, I was too angry about the ringing in my ears and the eighteen inches I had jumped into the air to appreciate it. I decided to call the day over and went back to my airbnb, where Charlie was working on a sketch and Nelson the Dog was waiting to wrestle.
Nelson does this really funny thing where if he really gets into playing with you, he starts boxing you with his front paws. He jumps up on his hind legs and just wails away until you push him off. He also found out I give the best scratches and so when I first walked in, he barreled into me and refused to let me stand still until I knelt over to scratch his chest.
This Little Piggy Watched Some Fireworks
After Charlie and Nelson went to bed, I climbed up to the roof of the building to watch the final fireworks show of the festival.
Really, the ideal is to go to one of the bridges, where they sell churros and chocolate, and the fireworks are so concussive you can feel your organs vibrating. But I was tired and my knee was mad and, what the hell, who really wants to deal with crowds this late at night anyways.
I ended up having a perfect view of the Nit-del-Foc. Although I couldn’t see the very bottom most fireworks, I could see the big flower blossom explosions that are my favorite. I could also see other fireworks shows go off around me, some so close that they rattled the windows underneath me!
It was epic and beautiful and almost a little bittersweet. It made me think of how, after today, my trip to Spain is basically over.
Love and Hugs from a Sleepy Piggy,
Hannah
Day 15
I’m going to cheat a little bit and re-show / reshare three of the Fallas I’ve already sent you. These three Fallas are:
(1) What Won First Place — Falla de l’Antiga de Campanar
aka Falla of the Ancient Campanar
Slogan: Climate Change
Hannah Special Note: This bastard was actually way way way far away from the rest of the festival, a good three miles from where I was staying. For that, it loses major brownie points with me.
(2) What Won First Place in Grace & Ingenuity — Falla Sueca Literato Azorin
aka (I think this is the name of the Fallas community that built it — either that or a really sick wizard name)
Slogan: “give me a like”
Hannah Special Note: I think this one was my favorite overall of the Fallas, and not just because it was the first Big Boi I saw (it also was the one I watched burn) — I think it’s a very clever idea and it is just a damn cool sculpture even beyond the satire. Extra points for the Guy Fawkes mask because it led to one of my favorite overheard conversations between two Germans:
German Man: Oh Mah Gawd
German Man 2: Vat?
German Man: V for Vendetta! V for Vendetta! Look, look!
German Man 2: Oh Mah Gawd Oh Mah Gawd
German Man: V for for Vendetta!!
(3) What I think Should Have Won First Place — Falla Convento Jerusalem
aka (another Fallas named after something, this time I think the neighborhood it’s in)
Slogan: “Olympia”
Hannah Special Note: I’m really really bummed I didn’t get a good picture of this in all its glory. It was an awesome sculpture and I would have loved to have spent a whole hour just looking at it. It had the misfortune (or luck) of being in the middle of where the crowds were at their densest, even in the mornings, so I only got the one day where it wasn’t even fully set up. It would be one that, if they sold miniatures of it, I’d pay way too much to get one for a shelf of honor.
Unwindulaxing
After going so hard the last few days, and with my legs so sore and tight and stiff I could barely make it down the four flights of stairs to the street, I spent yesterday mostly just in coffee shops and in the airbnb with Nelson.
I did go out to buy Silvia and Charlie a bottle of wine (I took a screenshot of the label so I could keep an eye for it, because apparently it’s quite good and one of Silvia’s favorites), and attempted to do a little more souvenir shopping.
I was delighted to discover an entire street full of artisan shops, where people sold their handmade goods while making them right nearby. It felt so sweet, like something out of a fairy tale, especially when I walked into a ceramic shop with a kiln blazing full of little turtles and when I walked into a textile shop full of young women getting fitted for their Fallas clothes.
Burn Baby Burn!!!!
The city was full of a nervous energy all day as people counted down the hours to the crema. Massive fireworks were unleashed throughout the day, often exploding right above my head, while city workers carefully prepared the Fallas for their eventual destiny.
At around dusk, I went to the far southwest part of the city for dinner. As I left the main thrum of the festival, the sound of explosions and fireworks grew more distorted. It was already cloudy and the smoke from the festival filled the air with an eerie smog. When you’re walking by yourself, it’s very eerie — almost like walking through a dystopian science fiction movie.
As I was walking (well running bc I was running late) to my first Fallas Crema, I passed by a Fire Parade
I had only heard rumors of it because I think it’s relatively new, but it was a fire performance full of artists who specialize in dancing / playing / working with fire. I really wanted to stop to watch the magic, but I needed every second to get a good spot at the Crema — however, I was told later that the parades are often one of the most spectacular and bizarre parts of the festival, because all the artists are competing to one up each other. It’s also one of the more dangerous parts of the festival, but I think for some people that’s part of the fun.
Huffing and puffing and waddling a little from running too hard on my poor legs, I managed to wedge myself into a good spot to see my first Fallas burn. It’s crazy how fast the space fills out — I was lucky in that I had a (mostly) clear view of the Fallas with only a few tall people in front of me. I tried to get a selfie at one point and almost knocked over a group of German grandmothers!
All the lights surrounding the Fallas shut off five minutes to the burning. You can hear the hiss and see the faint jet of water from the fire trucks, like the breath of a great water dragon.
Everyone starts cheering but it’s subdued — they’re almost too excited to make a noise. And then the fireworks start.
The fireworks erupt directly above the Fallas, blossoming into flowers of color with dull thuds that echo in your chest. As you crane your head to look around, you can see people leaning out over the balconies surrounding the Fallas, the photographers who elbowed and pushed and shimmied their way up street lamps to get the perfect shot. The Fallas is eerily illuminated by the faint light of the fireworks and it almost seems as if the figures covering it are stirring into life.
All at once the fireworks stop and a great stillness fills the square. You crane your head, trying to see the moment when it starts, and then there’s an almighty WHOOM and suddenly everything is on fire.
The fire billows up the sculpture in a plume of black smoke. It looks like hellfire, a dark orange flame that consumes the fallas, ripping through the foam. Parts of the fallas slip and fall away; other parts vanish altogether, vaporizing in the immense heat. A ghastly skeleton starts to emerge; the wooden frame that held together this immense structure. People cry out with each new victory the fire claims; the first piece to fall away, the first part of the frame to dissolve into smoke. Dimly, the booming clap of fireworks sounds around the great hiss and crackle of the fire, accompanied by a thrumming music that is at once modern and deeply ancient.
It’s been a long, hard week of partying. After having your nerves frayed and your body abused by the constant movement and noise of the festival, there is a deep guttural satisfaction in witnessing this carnage.
But just as quickly as it started, the fallas settles into a steady burn. The fire is still epic — easily a few stories high — but there is nothing that separates it from the other fires you have seen throughout the festival.
Eyes watering from the ash still drifting down from the sky, you turn away from the fire. If you feel feverish, you reassure yourself it is only from the immense heat from the fire. But even still, there’s a kind of manic energy that drives you to the next fallas. In only a few minutes, it too will burn.
Quiet Night
After I was done watching the carnage of the fallas, I went back to my little perch on the roof. The whole world reeked of smoke and I tried not to think about what it was doing to my lungs as I gazed out across the city.
If you have ever been far enough from the equator, you will know that there is a kind of glow from a land where the sun never sets. This was what it was like up on the roof. I was surprised at how little thrill I felt seeing the half a dozen fireworks shows all around me. I guess even something that special can grow normal after a week.
I went back downstairs to the apartment to find Silvia working on her computer and Charlie doodling on his iPad. Nelson brought me his squeaky toy, and solemnly gave it a squeak to let me know it was time for scratches.
I sat down next to him and set to work, replaying the trip in my mind as I did so. In many ways, this has been the longest trip of my life. And in another, more difficult to describe way, it felt like I was just getting started.
Love and Joy,
Hannah
Day 16 — the Final Day
Day 16
It feels surreal to be writing these words. Over two weeks have flown by and I find myself once back in the airport, waiting to start the long trek home.
Some Unasked for Rankings
Now that I’ve been here and done things, let’s take a moment to recap the best of the best, the biggest surprise, and what I’ll have to come back for in Spain.
Best of the Best — Cordoba
Howard was right — the Mesquite Cathedral is one of the most epic parts of Cordoba. In a world full of churches and cathedrals and big buildings dedicated to men with bushy beards, the Mosque Cathedral manages to stand out with its beauty and little Easter eggs.
The Biggest Surprise — Cordoba
There’s a teeny tiny little artisan shop tucked amidst the winding streets of Cordoba that had some really cool handmade things. I wasn’t expecting that among all the tourist shops and tapas bars, but it was a warm and welcoming little respite from the rain.
Gotta Get Back — Cordoba
I’m going to cheat a little bit and use this space to say I actually really want to go to La Mancha. It may or may not surprise you to know that I thought La Mancha was to Cordoba what Cherry Creek is to Denver — that is to say, a small suburb or section of the city. I probably could have corrected that mistake with a simple google search, but it gives me an excuse to come back — to go see the actual town of La Mancha, which is its own entity separate from Cordoba.
Best of the Best — Seville
This is kind of a weird answer but I really liked how walkable Seville was. It was almost like revisiting Budapest, with the promenade and the markets and the cool shops full of things I wasn’t going to buy. It’s an old world city with the perks of the new world, which made it fun to meander around and see what’s what.
The Biggest Surprise — Seville
The food of Seville was the best I had on the trip. Even just looking at the pictures of the food is enough to make my mouth water — I think it could be argued that it’s the best food I can remember having, although I’d be happy to be disproven and remember other tasty morsels.
Gotta Get Back — Seville
honestly I feel like I didn’t really get to see Seville, even though I spent a few days there. I’d love to come back and see the opera Barber of Seville there — or at least the Looney Tunes version, which is still my favorite of the Looney Tunes canon.
Best of the Best & the Biggest Surprise — Granada
I have to admit, I was totally blown away by the trail system around Granada. It was probably the biggest surprise of the whole trip and was some of the most fun I had during the whole two weeks. It felt like a true blast to the past, like being a Disney princess, like… well just go reread the travelogue I sent you and you’ll know what I’m talking about.
Gotta Get Back — Granada
The Alhambra. (*shakes fist at the dudes who wouldn’t let me in*)
But also I think of everywhere I went, Granada is the place I’d be most likely to just live and write and hang out.
Best of the Best — Valencia
I have to admit, as much as loved the Crema, seeing the Fallas in the first day when they were still being set up was super wild. For one thing, there were no crowds and explosions to disrupt my viewing pleasure. For another, I actually got to see the immense work that went into making the fallas. There’s nothing like seeing a giant foam devil get hoisted in the air to make you smile.
The Biggest Surprise — Valencia
I get a little ferclempt thinking about how nice Charlie and Silvia were. Getting to hang out with them, to go with them to the mountains, to get to talk with ex pats and locals and see Spain through their eyes was really special. In a way it was the most mundane part of the trip, just because of how similar it is to hanging out with family and friends; but that made it even more powerful. Also a lot of them were super funny which made it more fun!
Gotta Get Back — Valencia
I’d really like to take people to Las Fallas, especially my boyfriend Nathaniel (sorry everyone else but if it helps I am biased). Beyond that, though, I think I missed out on seeing a softer and more relaxed Valencia due to the chaos of the crowd.
Where Go from Here?
After sleeping for a long looooooong time, I’m going to start my new job on Monday. I’m still unclear as to what my new job will be like, seeing as it’s my first job and all, but I’m hopeful that it’ll be fun and interesting and maybe even a little fulfilling.
Until I know what the work situation is, my future travel plans are nebulous at best. There’s schemes to go to New Jersey in May and Mexico in November, but it seems a bit unfair to plan for those trips if I don’t even know how to bribe my boss yet.
I’d like to go to Japan or New Zealand as my Next Big Hannah Adventure. It seems a little common amongst my peers (I think Japan is probably the number one destination for people my age that can afford it), but sometimes popular things are popular for good reason. Besides, what self respecting hobbit would I be if I didn’t go to Hobbiton at least once?
A tiny acknowledgments section
As with all writers, I feel compelled to shout out, pay tribute to, and all but dance about all my gratitude for the people who helped make this trip possible.
Thank you to my chauffeurs—I mean parents— who supported and encouraged me to follow my passion. This trip literally wouldn’t have been possible without them and it is so wonderful to have parents that made such a daunting experience fun and easy.
Thank you to Ben for sharing in the excitement with me with just about everything and for looking out for his little sis when needed.
Thank you to Uncle Howard for all of support, advice, and inspiration throughout my trip. I really should just get a bracelet that says “What Would Howard Do?” because that was often my motto for the trip. Also it’s his fault I enjoyed Cordoba and Granada as much as I did, So, Ya know. Major Kudos.
Thank you to Aunt Lisa for sharing my journey and for being such a wonderful example of being a badass kind woman for me to try to emulate on this trip.
Thank you to Aunt Meg aka “Two Puffs” aka “Godmother of the Year Award (for 24 years running)” for your shared love and joy and excitement — you really helped me feel like I could do anything I wanted.
Thank you to Aunt Heather aka “Sunshine” for your warmth and kindness — I thought about you every time I met someone new who helped me or who made me enjoy Spain a little more.
You think I was done thanking my parents? WELL GUESS AGAIN because they’re truly amazing and spectacular and wonderful and brilliant
Mom, I really missed you on this trip, especially when starting my morning walks around the cities and when winding down over a drink at the end of the day. Spain carried a little bit of magic for me and I like to think it’s the magic you left behind from when you were here.
Groucho, I can’t wait for you to get your butt over here and run around Spain. The fact that there is this much beauty and diversity and wonderfulness in Spain that you have yet to discover is a crime and I will not rest until it is rectified. Or, you know, you do you. But in all seriousness, I hope you know how much I thought of you when trying all the tasty food and sharing laughs with all the kind people here.
Last but certainly not least, I want to give a big ole thank you to my partner in crime, Nathaniel. During one (slightly drunken) night with Charlie and Silvia, I tried to explain how much you have made me a better person and how much I look up to you. Charlie nodded sagely and said “Conflagru.”, to which Silvia get misty eyed and squeezed his hand. I still have no idea what that means, but whatever it means, I “conflagru” you a lot.
I also want to put a small note of gratitude that was able to do this trip at all. It’s a huge honor and privilege to see the world like this, and it’s made me appreciate so many things that I never really thought about before. I know that’s cliche when it comes to travel, but honestly if that’s the one thing that ever comes out of going places, I’d still jump on a plane tomorrow and the next day and… well maybe not more than two days in a row. But still.
There and Back Again
I started this journey by comparing myself to a hobbit — Bilbo Baggins to be precise — and looking back on it, I had much easier go of it than he did when it came to First Adventures. He had to outsmart a dragon; I had to outsmart Charlie. He found the one thing that could destroy life as he knew it and bring devastation to middle earth; I discovered late night kebabs.
But for all our differences, I like to think there are some things that share a common echo.
We both grew and changed as a result of our journeys, becoming wiser and, dare I say, braver with our experiences. We made new friends and saw the world as it is and once was. Like Bilbo, I even came home with a few treasures, though I could hardly claim that they are as valuable as the silver of dwarven mines.
At the end of his adventure, you know that Bilbo is only just beginning on his life’s journey — a series wanderings and ramblings through strange lands full of stranger creatures. Looking ahead is impossible with so much uncertain in my future, but I think I know that I will always be on the lookout for the next adventure. It’s a beautiful world we live in and I’ve only just begun to see it.
