Monday, April 8, 2013

Spain

The sound of pounding drums awakes me from my slumber.  My eye's crust open as I wonder what the heck that sound is.  My bed looks right out the window and I roll over to peer out.  I see men with hoods on and masks covering their faces marching down the street.  Dressed in all black they slowly bang their drums to a consistent somber rythum.  A few people line the streets to watch the procession.  What the heck is going on?  I look around the hostel and realize I am the only one in the room.  I glance at my watch to see 10am.  Wow, that is the latest I have slept the entire trip.  I roll out of bed, get dressed and head out to investigate what is going on.

I'm in the town of Malaga.  A town situated right on the Mediterranean, it litterally could not get more gorgeous here.  Tight narrow streets with small local shops fill the town.  Picturescue cafes and tapas bars dot the town.  Pedestrian only streets are everywhere providing a super laid back feel to the town.  Every house is a different bright color providing a beautiful boquet of buildings nestled by the sea.  To the north tall mountains reach up right from the sea.  All around them are thousnads upon thousands of acres of olive farms.  Row upon row of olive trees grow all along the sides of these mountains.  To the south, the Mediterranean.  Crystal clear blue water stretches into the horizon.  Palm trees line the streets along the white sand beach that runs the length of the town.  The sun shines bright everyday at a perfect temperature while a light breeze coming of the sea keeps everything fresh.  The whole scene of the Spanish gold coast is complete and I must say, I was blown away.

I step out to see the procession is still going on.  Now however it seems to have taken a sinister turn.  Men in white robes with red crosses on their chests carrying crosses walk past.  On their heads are white hoods that come to a point about a foot off the head, thus completing the look of a KKK member.  I look around the streets.  All the cute shops are closed and barred up and the smiling people have vanished.  Just one or two old women watch the march down the street.  Oh my, what on earth have I stumbled across.  Is Malaga, Spain some secret headquarters of the KKK?  Where is everyone?  Good god I know!  The Zombie Apocalypse has started!  I am baffled by the events of the morning but with literally no one around to ask I continue with my plans for the day.  I was first going to check out the big cathedral in the center of town.

As I walk the streets I feel like I'm in a ghost town.  Not a soul on any of the streets.  A dog barks in the background as the wind calmly whistles down the narrow streets.  As I get to the cathedral I notice the doors are open and as I walk through I didn't have to pay.  Upon entering the church is PACKED.  Wall to wall people all dressed in their finest clothes stare quietly at the pastor giving is adress.  Wait what day is it?  Holy cow it's Easter!  Everything suddenly becomes clear.  Spain is a hugely Catholic nation.  Of course everything is going to be closed and everyone is at church on the holiest day of the year.  I later learn that the men in hoods was a traditional thing that goes back way way before the KKK was ever made.  In fact I was incredibly lucky to see it because it only happens in Malaga and only on easter.  Too bad I didn't take any pictures because I thought it was either a funeral or I was not allowed to take pictures.  I really need to pay attention to a calender more often.

Feeling out of place and akward I leave the church and go to some ruins of a Moor fortress that happened to be open because the ticket system was automated.  I have the entire ruins to myself and get to search around and explore.  Upon climbing a guard tower that over looks the city I see a bullfighting ring.  I decide that is where I will go next and begin my decent down the ruins.

Sometime between me seeing the bullfighting ring and my exit of the ruins, church let out.  And oh my did the party start.  The streets flooded with happy smiling people.  Street vendors covering every inch a free space while children run around and eat candied nuts.  Multiple stages are going with local bands and dancing troops giving shows to delighted crowds.  Tons of kites litter the sky as happy children run to get the aloft.  Seeing how big a deal this was for everyone I make a beeline to the bullfighting ring.

Sure enough there will be a bullfight today.  Another lucky thing because although it is very traditional in Spain, the public's views towards them are shifting and they are becoming very few and far between.  We all pack into the small arena and wait for the fight.  As the matador enters the ring the crowd erupts with a cheer.  He seems to be some sort of celebrity as I see his face on posters all over the town.  As the bull comes into the ring the crowd goes nuts.  The fight starts right away and goes sort of exactly how you would expect.  With each pass of the bull the crowd screams and hollars with joy.  The matador deftly moves around the ring calculating the perfect moment for each strike.  I had prepared myself before hand for the grisly scene that would unfold before me and the fight didn't fail.  The bull's blood begins to drop into the sand and stain it red.  The crowd only cheers louder.  Ever the showman the matador builds the crowd until he strikes the final blow.  The ending was however very anti-climatic.  The bull having multiple deep deep cuts and blood pouring out of his back seems to lose the will to fight.  He has more pressing matters at hand I guess.  He goes to the side of the ring and lays down.  The matador creeps up to it still being cautious.  Realizing the bull is not going to do a thing he puts a foot on its head and raises his sword.  The crowd roars and in one quick strike he stabs the bull behind the neck and it is over.

That was my easter.  Yeah.  Hope you guys had fun looking for eggs laid by a rabbit.  Mine was slightly different.  But that was only a part of Spain.  I can not gush enough about this country.  From the metropolis and art of Madrid to the drop dead perfect atmosphere of Malaga.  From the rich history and giant fortresses of Granada to the hip, living architecture museum that is Barcelona, I'm in love.  Beautiful cafes are on every street corner serving fantastic tapas and paella.  Everyone always has a smile on their face and are more than happy to help.  They even suffer my toddler's understanding of the Spanish language and are more than willing to help anyone out.  Plus they have Siesta.  Which is a nap in the middle of the day.  Everything sort of slows down or closes and you have a rest.  As a weary traveler, any culture that naps everyday is tops in my books.  I have so many stories from Spain and I wish I had the time and space to tell you guys all of them but I'm sure you would get bored.  Just know that Spain is a must for anybody going to Europe and simply can not be missed.

Pic Time














    

Money is moving fast and so am I.  Next stop is Paris for only three nights.  Expect to see another post up soon.  The trip will be a little bit shorter than I had origonally planned and I will be home late April.  Thanks so much for all the support and love, it means so much.  See you guys soon.

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