The Carnevale Adventure

It was an adventure from the very beginning. Even though we were well aware that booking a hotel in a small city on the busiest weekend of the year was going to prove quite a trying task, we decided to try for it anyways. Since this year I was actually in Italy for the famous carnival season, I had been planning a trip with my friend Jordan (the new au pair for Zoila's family) to attend all the festivities in Venice for carnival. We thought we planned everything plenty in advance, but when it came down to it, we still had trouble finding a hotel. Apparently it's quite common for the hostels in Venice to have bed bugs, which I can assure you limited our options. Luckily, Zoila came through with her travel expertise and found us an inexpensive and snug bed and breakfast... Safely clear of any critters in the beds. We had actually had two weekends to choose from, since carnival season lasts for several weeks, but we chose the earlier weekend because we thought it might be a little less busy. It didn't make any difference. In the back of my mind however, I was slightly worried that the weather in the middle of February would not be very cooperative with our celebratory intentions, but I agreed with the earlier date because it seemed easier at the moment.

Unfortunately I was right. Mid February came, and so did the most bitter, horrible, depressing cold I have ever experienced in Italy. It was the country's worst winter ever.... And more than two thirds of the entire country was covered in several feet of snow, with the exception of Florence and parts of Naples (of course in my city we still got all the miserable conditions of the weather, just without the fun and beauty of the snow... Let's just say no one in Florence was very happy about that situation). After enduring several days or maybe a couple weeks of harsh winter weather, the big storms finally came... The week before our big trip to Venice. I was watching the weather religiously, hoping the snow would let up and melt away before we had to buy our train tickets to travel right through the Swiss alps near Bologna and onto Venice, right in the thick of the winter storm.

Jordan and I had been in contact every day, trying to figure out if we would be able to even make it to Venice or not. She told me that because of the snow, a train from Rome to Foligno had gotten stuck on the train tracks for several hours, and the people just had to sit inside and wait for the weather to pass and the tracks to be cleared.

That was not our ideal way to spend our special weekend away. We had to make a decision. Luckily, the only thing we had paid for so far was the hotel, so if we decided not to go, the only money we would be losing was one night's hotel cost. We considered that if we did risk going with all the snow, even if we were able to get there, walking around Venice in 25 degree weather wouldn't really be the funnest thing we could do. So after much consideration and deliberation, we postponed our trip for a week.

I'm glad we did. I had a friend that ended up going that weekend and she said it was unbearably cold the whole time she was there. I've experienced Venice like that before... Last year in January when I traveled there with my dad and sister... and I really did not want to ever have to be in Venice when it was that cold again. The next problem was to figure out what to do about our hotel, but after talking to the owner, we were able to work out renting a room the next weekend for just a small increase in price.

Just after getting a handful of confetti dumped on us... ;-)

It was perfect, and Jordan and I were thrilled to start our adventure. We still hadn't bought train tickets, but we were planning to buy them when I picked her up from the train station on Friday night. She arrived in from Foligno at 10 at night, and I was there waiting for her when she stepped off the train. Our plan was to buy our tickets, go to a pub for a bit, and then head home early to get a good night's rest.

Nothing ever goes as planned.

As we searched the kiosk to buy train tickets for a train to Venice early the next morning, we discovered some very unfortunate information: the train we planned to take was completely and entirely sold out. Not only was our selected 8 am train sold out, but so was the 9 am, 10 am, 11 am, and so on, all the way up till 2 in the afternoon... Which at that point would have meant missing almost an entire day in Venice. The only available train? 4 am. That's right. Jordan and I looked at each other, laughed and said... Are you up for it? Ok let's do it! So we purchased our insane train tickets (which luckily happened to be a quarter of the price of the late morning trains), and made a plan to stay out in the city all night long and go get on the train right after all the discos close at 4. We laughed about how crazy our plan was but then thought... This is life! We're up for fun and adventures and crazy things so why not? :) Unfortunately I didn't have my things with me, so after going home and packing, we became a little too comfortable in my cozy room and decided that maybe it would be smarter if we slept for three hours before going to the train.

To be honest, I'm quite glad we did (although I suppose that makes me not quite as adventurous as I would like to be), because we woke up semi-rested and ready to go for a fun weekend in Venice! We had a five hour train ride and didn't even sleep until the last hour of it. We finally arrived into Venice at 9 am. I didn't know what to do with myself. I am never up that early and had no idea what to do with so much time. We had also eaten like pigs at 6 am on one of our stop overs because we had skipped dinner the night before and were absolutely famished by the time the sun started rising, so eating wasn't even an option.

But it didn't matter because getting to our hotel proved to be quite a task (something I should have remembered later on that evening). We had to take a water bus, which required figuring out where to get it from and which direction to go and how long to be on it and how to buy tickets (which were an outrageous amount of money) and how to actually get on a bus when the city was so congested you could barely move. But we did it, and within an hour we were unpacking our things in our cute pink room at a quaint bed and breakfast.

The rest of the day was spent exploring the city and gaping at the incredible wonders of Carnival that surrounded us. In contrast to the empty and quiet Venice that I had encountered in January the year before, this time we enjoyed a city that was bursting with action and excitement. The city was packed… every nook and cranny was filled with travelers from all over the world, staring in awe at the beauty of the city and the magnificence of the extravagant costumes that passed by them on the streets. No one was in a rush, which was fortunate because it would have been an impossible task to maneuver quickly through the dense crowds. Instead, people slowly gallivanted through the streets, decked out in costumes, playfully grinning behind their Carnival masks, and proudly donning their SLR cameras around their necks. I was ecstatic.

It was like an entire city specially set up just for photographers… and any type of photographer – professional, intermediate, or just your every day tourist with a point and shoot. But everyone was taking pictures. There were so many bright and colorful and fantastic costumes, and the people dressed up were more than happy to pause while walking down the street and pose for an epic photo for you (and the group of 20 photographers that quickly formed behind you as soon as the person stopped). It was like a battlefield… everyone pushing and shoving and fighting to get the best angle for their shot, but it was a blast. No one was actually ever mad or in a bad mood; it was all just friendly competition.

Yum!

When Jordan and I weren’t gawking at the fabulous costumes, we only had one other thing on our minds: food. All day, we ambled slowly through the streets with eyes peeled for scrumptious bakeries. They weren’t hard to find. It seemed like every corner we past had a sparkly, shimmery display of irresistible, mouthwatering donuts, frittelle, brioches, chocolates, and biscotti. I can’t even count how many bakeries we went into over the two days we were there. After indulging in a few morsels at one locale, it was only moments before we were counting down the minutes until we had waited long enough in between to treat ourselves again at the next delicious place that caught our eye.

Since Jordan and I had only had two or three hours of sleep on the day of our arrival in Venice, we were completely exhausted by 5 pm. We headed back to our hotel, snuggled into our nice cozy beds, and took an amazing three hour nap. We didn’t even notice that we had skipped dinner because we were so full from all the goodies and sweets that we had had! Around 8, we woke up well rested, got up, got ready to go out for a night on the town, and set out to explore some of the Venice nightlife during the Carnival festivities.

We didn’t really know where to go, but we walked in the direction of where we had heard there was generally lots of activity. It wasn’t long until we stumbled upon music blasting in the streets and a buzzing crowd cheerfully dancing along. Of course, we joined right in, made some friends, and danced the night away. It was quite a celebration and people from all over joined in on the festivities, moshing and jumping together in the piazzas to all the wild music playing around them.

The crowds in the streets

The hours passed, and before we knew it, it was late in the night and time to head back to our hotel. Problem: neither of us had a clue how to get there. We pulled out our maps and began what we thought would be a brief search for the hotel we had been to only once (or maybe twice…) earlier that day. Unfortunately, I had let Jordan do the leading and had not paid much attention at all to where we were going. Our plan was to rely on our handy maps to guide us home. However, we found that trying to use maps in Venice is pretty much a futile task, considering none of the street names on the maps actually match the real names on the street signs. Combine the map confusion with an almost unbearable freezing cold, two tired girls that had been out all night, and two random Italian guys that were thankfully there to help translate for us and ask the locals where to go. The result: a two hour mess of wandering all around Venice at in the wee hours of the morning, unsuccessfully searching for a seemingly nonexistent street that neither of us could remember how to get to. Eventually around 5 am, after several circles around the entire city, we miraculously stumbled upon a familiar area and were able to track our way back to our hotel. I had not realized (luckily!) that it had taken us a full two hours, but I must admit that once we finally got back to our hotel and laid down in bed, I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything so wonderful in my life!

We slept only a few hours before heading back out into the chaos and madness of Carnevale again, but we were energized all the same, still excited and eager to be taking part in such a magnificent experience. With only a few more obstacles before we headed home (a sudden downpour during a photo excursion, long lines for water buses on our way to the train station, sold out trains, claustrophobic cars filled with people standing shoulder to shoulder with absolutely no breathing room, and brief panic attacks), we made it home safe and sound, satisfied and thrilled about our the success of our first genuine Carnevale experience.

Midnight in Paris

I can't make up my mind about Paris. I've been to the city three times, and while I have had some very memorable and enjoyable times in the city, my overall experiences haven't been anything super fantastic (and they're supposed to be... It's Paris for goodness' sake!). I will admit that I love the beauty of the city that establishes its renown - the famous landmarks, the romantic atmosphere, and the eclectic crowd of people that roams about the streets - but yet there's always something that seems to thoroughly disappoint me while I'm there. Unfortunately, my third trip to Paris this year to participate in the epic New Year's celebrations I've heard all about only confirmed my record that things never go quite right in this city.

Since I knew I would be in Europe for the New Year again this year, I immediately began searching for another epic place to celebrate. If you remember at all from my blog last year, I had quite the New Year's celebration in Rome and knew that I wanted to experience something just as fantastic, while having a new and different experience this time as well. My best friend Madeleine was also in Europe at the time, so we made plans to fly to a city and meet up to ring in the New Year together. We started brainstorming some cities and came up with London, Barcelona, and Paris, places we knew would have incredible celebrations. I was leaning towards London or Barcelona, but a few days later my best friend Rachel from back home called me and told me that her family was going to be traveling through Paris for a few days right before New Years, on their way to a week long trip in India. I mentioned Paris again to Madeleine and she seemed quite enthusiastic about going to the romantic city. The decision was made. We bought our tickets. And I was thrilled. 

After all, I was going to be in Paris with both of my best friends in the same week (although not at the same time), both of whom I hadn't seen in at least six months.

Hanging out with Rachel at the Eiffel Tower

Unfortunately, however, I should have taken note at the very beginning, before I even left on the trip, because that's when things starting going awry. About a month before the trip Madeleine informed me that her plans had changed and she was going back to the U.S. Although I still had time with Rachel and her family to look forward to, they were going to be departing on the day before New Year's which left me with no one to celebrate the New Year with.

Disappointment #1 – going to an epic city for New Year’s… by myself.

I thought back to the chaos and madness of Rome last year on New Year's and knew that there was no way I would survive the pandemonium of holiday celebrations in such a large city by myself, so I set out to do some networking to try and make friends before I arrived. I thought about the au pair network in Rome and Florence and assumed that there must be one in Paris as well, so I did some research on Facebook to try to find a group. Fortunately, I was successful and was able to get into contact with dozens of au pairs in Paris before I even arrived. And since the au pair community is very inviting and accepting, I had no problem making plans to meet up with them and join their celebrations on New Years. My solution was perfect: Not only would I not be alone, but I would be with lots of other girls just like me who were knowledgeable travelers, experiencing life in another culture, and living a lifestyle similar to my own. 

Thank you to this awesome girl for letting me join in on her New Year's plans!

I guess I should mention that this story isn’t entirely disappointing. There were definitely some great aspects to my trip that I enjoyed very much (like there always have been)… but the unfortunate events are just sad enough to share with you as well. 

Getting ready to go out

New Year’s Eve rolled around and everything was going as planned. I met up with some other girls at the apartment of one of the au pair girls I had been in contact with and we hung out and ate dinner together before heading out into the city for a night of craziness and chaos. At 9:00, we left to go walk to the Eiffel Tower and reserve a seat for ourselves so we could have a great view of the tower at midnight. Along the way, we met up with some other au pairs, increasing the size of our group to between 20 and 25. It was great - there was tons of new friends to be made!

This is only part of the group!

 Once at the Eiffel Tower, we quickly and easily found a place with a good view. Even though it was almost 10:00, there was almost no one there (this probably should have been another clue that something was not right…). We stood around and shared wine and champagne and snacks as we waited for midnight to come. And with 25 outgoing girls, we had no problem making friends with all the people standing around us! Over the next couple hours, the grass began to fill up, and people trickled in to find a seat amidst the crowd. Before I knew it, the entire place was packed and there were thousands of people all around me, staring up expectantly at the glowing Eiffel Tower, wondering what would happen when the clock struck midnight. 

Every now and then, someone in the crowd would light a firework, and a hush would come over the crowd as they watched in anticipation, hoping that more would follow. They never did.

After fluttering around among the groups and socializing with all my new friends, it dawned on me that it must be nearly midnight. In an effort to ring in the New Year the proper way, I started desperately searching for an unopened bottle of champagne, in order to pop it open right when midnight hit. Disappointment #2 – Everyone had already opened all their champagne and drank all of it before the countdown even started. I had nothing to toast to the New Year with! 

While we were waiting for midnight, I went on a search for a good location to shoot some photographs. I found a really good spot not too far from my group, standing up on a ledge that was already filled with a row of photographers. As I waited there, the crowd started to stir and I could tell something was about to happen. I didn’t want to be off by myself when the clock struck twelve, so I jumped down and rejoined my group of friends for the Countdown that I expected to happen any minute. I had no idea what time it was still, but was simply just following everybody else, and everybody else seemed to be ready for the celebrations to begin. As I surrounded myself with the group I was with, I realized that they were quite loud and animated…. a bit noisier than all of the other thousands of people around us. Suddenly, before I knew it, someone, somewhere starting yelling: 5! 4! 3! 2! 1! HAPPY NEW YEAR.

I was confused… the countdown had not been in French, it did not start from 10, and it was also not a community event. For some reason the Countdown had only happened within my group, while the thousands of people around us stayed silent…. 

Either way, we all kissed each other and said our rounds of Happy New Year and had some more wine (since there was no more champagne), but I didn’t stick around for long. As soon as I knew that it was the New Year, I jumped up immediately back onto the ledge where I had a great view to take some pictures. Staring through my camera lens, I realized the Eiffel Tower had gone from its normal yellow glow to a sparkly blue that twinkled against the dark midnight sky. A firework shot off next to the Eiffel Tower. I snapped a picture.

Random fireworks going off... but never any show!

Here we go. This is it… this is the fireworks show I’ve been waiting for behind the Eiffel Tower … the one where I’m going to get awesome pictures and where everyone in the crowd is going to go wild because they’re celebrating New Years in Paris and they’re so excited to be here!

I waited… and waited… and waited… The Eiffel Tower continued to twinkle. Another person set off a sad little firework. But there was no show. There was no music. There was no epic event to watch. There was not even any cheering and hollering. 

Someone in my group got confused and wasn't sure if it had turned midnight yet... so they started a countdown again. Once again... our group enthusiastically and boisterously counted down, while the crowd around us stayed silent, watching and waiting. This may have happened several times as we waited... I don't think anyone really knew what time it was ;-) 

We waited for ten minutes.

                 Then fifteen.

Where was the show?? Was something going to happen?

One by one, the people slowly turned and walked away.

Our group was in denial. "No... just wait a little longer. It just hasn't started yet!"

At 12:30, we decided it was probably time to leave. 

Disappointment #3 - Absolutely no celebration, no countdown, no fireworks show, no shouting...nothing. What happened, Paris?? Was I in the wrong location? Did I go to the wrong place? But I was sitting right in front of the Eiffel Tower! Surely there should have been something going on there!

Sometime, a good deal after midnight, making a toast with wine... not champagne

At least we had the rest of the night to look forward to, and we knew that we were going to have an awesome time dancing the night away. The metros were free all until the next morning, and most lines were open all night long, with only some closing around 2, so we knew we would have no problem getting around.

Wrong.

The entire crowd that was at the Eiffel Tower, plus probably the entire rest of the city, decided to come out onto the streets right after midnight. To be honest, it was actually pretty fun walking through the buzzing city in the middle of the night, meeting and observing all the different people from all over the world, and grappling through the crowd on our way to the metro station, alongside everyone else who was doing the same. We tried with all our effort to keep our large group together, but with more than thirty of us (the group grew while we were out), the task proved almost impossible. We finally succeeded in reaching the metro station where we planned to take it to are  with all the nightlife, and I reached in my purse to grab my iPod and see what time it was.

It wasn't there.

Did I mention that I had been warned countless times about pickpockets and thieves running about in such chaotic crowds that night? I had known the risks of taking expensive things, but I figured I would just keep a close eye on my stuff and make sure no one snatched anything from me. When I found my most expensive item missing (it's also brand new), I did my best to stay calm and not panic. I thought there might be a chance that I had dropped it somewhere in the area where we were waiting for the nonexistant fireworks show, and since we weren't too far away yet, I figured I would just run back and look around to see if I could find it. Unfortunately, going back meant separating from my group in a massive mob of people and trying to find my way back to them later somehow. I knew it was going to make things difficult later on, but I had no choice but to go back and look.

Before we departed from the group, we discussed and planned to meet up at a pub on the other side of town, so I said goodbye, hoping to see them again soon. One of the new friends we made accompanied me back to our spot and all the while convinced me that I probably had the iPod in my purse the whole time. When we stopped and unsuccessfully searched the grounds for my missing iPod, I decided to prove that out of all the things in my purse, that the iPod was not there, so I took everything out one by one to demonstrate.

Hanging out with new friends

As I had said, it was not there. So we looked around some more until a sickeningly feeling began to creep into my stomach as the reality of the situation set in. I thought back long and hard to when I last had it, where I had put it, and what might have happened to it, and suddenly a thought came to me. I looked down at my purse once again and reached my hand into a massive hole that had recently formed on the side of my purse. Deep in the lining, all the way at the bottom, my iPod sat safe and sound.

It had been there the whole time, just like my friend had said. Disappointment #4 - Worried about an iPod that wasn't really missing and separated from my group for no reason at all. Although this time, it wasn't Paris' fault... just my own!

We quickly scampered back to the metro to see if we could get on one and meet up with our friends. It was packed. We literally couldn't move, and there was no possible way we could even get down the stairs to get on the metro. Our only other option was a taxi, so we set out to flag one down.

Impossible. Every taxi in the city was already taken. After attempting for almost 30 minutes to get a taxi, I finally gave up and said I was just going to brave the metro and push my way through. I said goodbye to our new friends and set off by myself to try to make it to our agreed destination.

It was insane. There were literally people everywhere, right up to the very edge of the platform. Fortunately, I'm quite good at weaving my way through crowds, so I nudged and pushed here and there and actually made my way onto a metro! A few stops later, I had to get off and change lines in order to get where I needed to go. I walked and walked and walked (or maybe it was more like ran and ran and ran) for what seemed like forever through the metro station to get to the other line, and I finally walked up to the entrance with a group of people. Right as I went to enter the tunnel that led to the metro I needed, a security man stepped in front of me and said "This line is now closed. It's 2 am. The metro isn't running anymore."

At that point, I was somewhere in the city with no clue where I was, alone, in a massive crowd of people, with absolutely no where to go for the rest of the night. (Did I mention that I didn't book a hotel or hostel that night??) The metro I needed was closed, and I had no idea how to get to where my friends were. With absolutely no other options, I put on my puppy dog eyes (more like the "I'm a poor American girl by myself that doesn't know where to go or what I'm doing" look) and begged the security man to let me through to the line I needed. Naturally, it didn't work. But I did succeed in getting him to take a minute to explain to me which lines I needed to take to get to my destination. At least there was a way to get there! A few more stops on the lines that were open all night, a few more changes, and I should be there in no time.

Of course, there was a massive line of people waiting to get on the line I needed because everyone else had been rerouted too. We waited for probably 20 minutes for hundreds of people to go up a single file escalator, and then waited even longer for the train to actually arrive.

When all was said and done, I finally arrived to our meeting point over an hour later, somewhere around 3 in the morning. I walked into the pub (that I miraculously found with no problems at all!), expecting to see all of my friends hanging out together. 

No one was there.

I searched downstairs on the dance floor, I walked all around the inside of the pub, I checked outside again. I couldn't find anyone. 

Right as I was about to freak out and give up on the night, two of the girls from my group walked in. Two. We chatted for a minute and I asked them where the rest of the group was and why they weren't there yet. They explained that apparently everyone had gotten separated while trying to get on the metro, and some people ended up going home, some people ended up trying to walk, and some people were missing and not answering their cell phones. We decided to dance and try to enjoy ourselves while we waited for everyone to get there. 

A little while later, we received a text from our friends that they were not going to come after all, but instead were going home. We tried to dance and have a good time, but by this point, I was just upset and angry. I had flown all the way out to Paris for New Year's Eve for this?? Nothing had gone as planned for the entire night and pretty much every single thing I had hoped for had disappointed me. Now it was the middle of the night, I was tired, stuck in a pub I didn't want to be in, and had no hope of meeting up with the girls that I had been hanging out with that night. Disappointment #5 - I never saw those girls again! 

I won't bore you with the details of the rest of the night because the only thing we spent our time doing was wandering, looking for food, waiting around, and trying to find the right metros. After saying goodbye to the two girls who had stuck around all night with me and after spending another hour wandering around, I finally made it back to the hotel where Rachel's mom was staying at 7 am and met her in the lobby as she was getting ready to take a taxi to the airport. Since she was leaving, she graciously let me nap in her room for a couple hours and shower before checking out of the hotel for her and getting ready to take my own flight later in the day. This was truly a lifesaver for me otherwise I would have been completely exhausted! 

When I woke up, I still didn't know what had happened to the other girls the night before and didn't really have any way to contact them, plus I figured they would be sleeping all day, so I knew I wouldn't be meeting up with them again before leaving the city (hence why I never saw them again). With a whole day to try to fill and absolutely nothing to do, I decided to walk. Paris is huge, and you can literally walk for hours and still only have seen a tiny part of the city. An hour or so into my walk, I noticed that all the shops and stores were closed and finally realized that it was Sunday. Upon that realization, I thought it might be nice to try to find a church to go to before heading back home. I remembered that there is an American Church in Paris that I learned about when I was in Paris a couple years back with Glowing Heart. We just so happened to meet the pastor of the church on the train while we were here, and he invited us then to visit his church if we were ever back in the city. Well, I was in the city, on a Sunday, by myself and with no other plans, so it was a perfect opportunity! I had just enough time to walk to the church and make it in time for the service!

The service was great and I was actually able to meet several people while I was there. Surprisingly enough, the pastor remembered me from two years ago and he and his wife prayed for me and my future and my travels. After such a disappointing and discouraging night the night before, I was quite refreshed and encouraged to finally have something good happen! 

I stayed a little too long talking to people at the church and almost missed my flight... but I ended up making it just in time. I don't think I could have been more thrilled to finally get back to Italy that evening though! It was so nice to finally be home... and get a chance to sleep!

When all is said and done, I still am quite disappointed about how the whole New Year's experience turned out, but I must admit... it was still an experience, and definitely one I won't forget! I guess sometimes things go great and sometimes they don't work out as well, but it's all part of what makes up the great story of our lives, and for this I can always be thankful! Who knows... maybe someday I might actually give Paris a chance again... maybe. ;-) After all, whoever said fourth time can't be a charm too?

The Rock

I like to travel. My family likes to travel too. In fact, my slight obsession with running off to different places for a change of scenery and some fresh air more often than is probably normal has most likely stemmed from my family's equal love for seeing and experiencing new places. Fortunately for me, this means that when I spend months and months overseas in other countries, it's usually not too hard to convince my family to come visit me ;)

As I mentioned in my last blog, my dad and sister came during my last week at G42 to see a little of what my life is like here in Spain and to travel a bit with me once I finished the program. During the week, I was in class and didn't have too much time to travel far, but Shawna and my dad certainly enjoyed several day trips to places like Granada and Morocco.

Once classes and graduation were over however, we got a chance to take a trip to the famous Rock of Gibraltar all together before Shawna had to leave the next day. We set out early in the morning (much earlier than my own preferred start time... which might not really be considered morning anymore), and drove just a few hours away to the interesting lump of British land in the middle of the Mediterranean, only a few hundred meters from the shore of the Costa del Sol.

If you don't know much about Gibraltar, it's a highly envied piece of land due to its strategic military and defense position. Consequently, the Africans, Spaniards, British (and most likely another people group I can't remember) have fought over the Rock for years. Needless to say, the Brits won, and now there's an unquenchable rivalry between the land's rightful inhabitants and those who logically want the land to be part of their country.

Driving straight across the airport runway to enter the city!

Since Gibraltar is technically the UK, we expected it to have quite a British feel. It didn't. It felt just like Spain, except we were actually able to communicate with people (residents of Gibraltar grow up speaking both English and Spanish). I found it to be quite a curious country. For some reason I never quite felt settled while we were there, perhaps due to the mesh of cultures that never seemed to arrive at a defining conclusion but rather uncomfortably floated somewhere in the middle... or maybe due to the unique landscape of the country that enclosed the inhabitants onto the island with access by only a single road, which conveniently (please note sarcasm here) runs right through the country's one airport runway, thus closing five times a day, prohibiting entrance and exit from the country, to let the daily scheduled flights land and take off.

Whatever it was, it ensured a fascinating and entertaining trip. Because of wind, the cable cars that normally take visitors to the top of the rock were closed for the day. Instead, we found a company that offers complete tours of the island and hopped in a van for a slightly perilous journey up the steep and jagged cliffs of Gibraltar's rock.

At the windy top we saw three things. Our first stop was at St. Michael's Cave, an incredible cavern that granted us access to the inside of the Rock, allowing us to observe the intricacies of the earth's natural formation of such a magnificent landscape. The cave has been utilized for centuries, having been occupied by military forces and ammunition in previous times when war remained a constant threat to mainland Spain. Now, however, the cave is decorated with colorful lights and strobes that illuminate a unique setting for classical concerts and prestigious events like the Miss World competition. It's a bit musty and dank inside the cave, with drops of water dripping every so often onto the dark floor, but I must admit a concert there seems like a fabulous experience, and one would be more than fortunate to be able to attend such an event.

Our next destination was by far the most popular and definitely the most enjoyable part for our tour group an travel companions. Apparently when the British began to occupy Gibraltar, they also brought with them monkeys (or is it apes? Forgive me... I can never remember the difference), so now the country is well known for its abundance of curious and knivving little creatures roaming around the hills. Oftentimes, these monkeys end up wandering out of their habitats and into human territory, where they have no qualms in rummaging through your belongings in order to confiscate whatever they might want. In fact, it's well known among inhabitants and visitors that if you don't watch your things, they might get stolen... By a monkey!

Photographic proof of my dad always pushing the limits!! ;-)

We laughed at the thought of such thieving little animals until we realized the reality of the situation when my dad bought an ice cream cone. We can't say he wasn't warned, because the shop he purchased it in had more than a sufficient amount of signs warning visitors of aggressive monkeys. Being my dad, however, he thought it would be funny to test out the theory and see what the monkeys would actually do. Of course, the signs and shop owner were right, and the moment my dad stepped out of the shop with ice cream in hand, at least two monkeys sprung at him, aiming for the delicious treat. My dad managed to protect his ice cream (and himself) by hiding behind a gate for the next few minutes while he ate, but my sister wasn't so lucky.

Being the less risky one of the bunch, Shawna decided to wait until we got back in the van, safely away from the monkeys, before opening her Snickers bar. What she didn't consider though, was that she wouldn't finish it completely before we reached our next stop - the monkeys' habitat area. Without thinking much about it, I opened the car door and jumped out to be greeted by a swarm of monkeys all around me, including a crazy monkey that jumped down from on top of the van and onto my sister as she was getting out of the car!

Maybe the most epic picture ever. Caught by my dad seconds before the stealthy attack.

I have to admit, even though it startled me for a minute, it was a hilarious scene to watch. The monkey scrambled all over Shawna trying to snatch her last bite of Snickers. Not the least not concerned about the candy bar, she threw the rest of it on the ground in hopes that the monkey might go after it instead of her. Unfortunately the monkey wasn't too smart so he proudly snatched the Snickers wrapper out of Shawna's hand, only to be left in grave disappointment after finding it empty.

After our scintillating introduction to the monkeys, we each snapped a few pictures holding a monkey (or three in some cases) before loading back up in the van to head to the Great Siege Tunnels. The tunnels are actually man made pathways carved out inside the rock for the use of military advances and protection. Throughout the long, dark, windy tunnels were numerous caves and niches that had been created to store weapons and resources. There were also rooms used as offices, where the generals worked and called orders from. Every so often we'd come across an opening in the rock wall that allowed us to peer out to the sparkling sea and even the coast of Spain hundreds of feet below. We were informed that these openings were used both as windows to keep watch on the seas for intruders and also for slots to places guns and cannons to shoot anyone who tried to invade or attack. Considering the abundance of openings and the strategic placement of them on all sides of the rock, it's a wonder how anyone ever survived an invasion!

After our van tour was over, we sat down to eat at a cute little Italian restaurant back down at the bottom of the rock. Over the week that my family was in Spain, we ate out almost every single meal and discovered something quite clear about Spain: the food is just not that great. It's not only that I don't exactly prefer greasy tapas, seafood dishes, and the traditional Paella that Spaniards eat so often, but we also found that the quality of the food (at least in the restaurants we went to) was not very good. I realized by the end of the week that I actually preferred staying at home and eating whatever we cooked that night instead of going out because it was simply way better than what is served at the restaurants in our area.

All that being said, we finally sat down to a quality meal with excellent food and delicious flavors, served at the little Italian restaurant we ate at. Honestly I did not expect it to be more than a Sbarro or something of the sort, but it ended up being one of the best meals we had that whole week!

Stuffed to the brim from focaccia, pizza, salad, and calzones, we got back in the car to head home, but not without stopping in the ritzy Puerto Banus, a section of the high class city of Marbella where you can't find a shirt for under two hundred euros and any given car on the street most likely costs more than your entire house.

We quite enjoyed our brief little tour of the Costa del Sol and the unique country of Gibraltar, but unfortunately it was Shawna's last day before she had to head home to the U.S. I was very sad to see her go, but at least I still had some exciting adventures ahead planned with my dad as we continued our tour around southern Spain.