I am returning to England in four days. FOUR DAYS. The excitement is uncontainable. Mainly for central heating, carpet and my electric blanket. But seeing the family and eating lots is also top priority.
But let’s go back a bit, and I’ll tell you about the last few weeks.
We went to check out the Christmas markets here in Granada. Analysis? Nowhere near as good as England. There were no chocolate covered strawberries, no mulled wine (no alcohol in general) and no sausages, for which the Birmingham market is famous. There were just lots and lots of statues of Jesus.
You tell ’em, B.
Note to Spain: less Jesus, more alcohol.
Somehow the weekends go really really quickly here. Then again so do the weeks, which isn’t hard when you’re in uni for 7 hours a day twice a week and 4 hours the other two days. Luckily enough, last week (due to the Immaculate Conception, thanks Mary) we had Monday off, and because I went to Salamanca on Thursday, I ended up only having two days of uni. Hurrah!
We went to Sala to celebrate ‘Nochevieja Universitaria’ which is basically New Year’s Eve for students, before everyone goes home for actual New Year’s Eve. So imagine a lot of revelry and rowdiness, if you will.
The trip itself – as is every trip here apparently – was full of excitement. Soraya and I were well prepared for our seven hour bus journey, by bringing our blankets and fluffy socks. Everyone on the trip was totally jealous, even if their sniggers said otherwise.
In the most sensational news I actually won the lottery for the trip, which meant I got (/am getting, still yet to be returned to me) the money back from the trip. Woohoo!! (This is sorely needed, since with the lack of grant yet – thanks UoB – I’m struggling.)
All I do is win, win, win, win.
And then, three quarters of the way through the journey, we got a surprise guest on the bus. The Civil Guards had pulled us over and brought their sniffer dogs on board!! Lucky us!
The organisers told us to hurriedly hide any alcohol we had, but to be honest, it wasn’t the alcohol that was the worrying part, as we knew for a fact there would be a different kind of illicit substance on the other bus. The dogs were actually really cute and our bus fortunately got away scot-free, but I believe we heard that some on the other bus weren’t quite so lucky.
But of course that would happen to us, of course it would. Because we’re incapable of having a trip without some sort of drama.
Once we got to Sala, we wandered around a bit (a lot) having food, looking at some shops, getting in a fight with the Smöoy lady (which would never have happened in Granada) and Soraya got a gift from a lovely bird.
By 9/9.30pm the music was starting in Plaza Mayor, which is a very nice big square in the middle of Salamanca. Madrid has one also, and we really need to get one in Granada. It was stunning.
Soraya and I went to investigate and join the party, but we got über jealous of people carrying round light-up batons and Coca-Cola cups. So of course, we had to go and figure out where to get them from. BIG MISTAKE.
Once we’d left Plaza Mayor and tried to get back in, the organisers told us we weren’t allowed in with our plastic bottles of drink and could only take in the paper cups. This therefore led to us trying to force our drinks down our throats to a point where there was only so much that would fit in the cups. Sickness was brewing, I’ll tell you that, and I had to sit down for a moment to gather myself. We also ended up feeding a plant some of our drinks.
Sneakily, however, we managed to sneak in a teeny tiny bottle of vodka and must have ended up shotting it throughout the night, because it wasn’t there the next morning.
The fiesta itself was just one big giant rave of students, waving their light-up batons in the air and jumping around. Somehow in the crowd we found Soraya’s flatmates which was fun, because it meant it wasn’t just the two of us embarrassing ourselves.
At midnight in Spain there is a tradition of eating twelve grapes in twelve seconds. Don’t ask, I don’t know why either. But as midnight struck, there wasn’t the usual display of people eating each other’s faces, rather they were stuffing grapes into their mouths. This is not as easy as it sounds. Especially after alcohol. But I will be nominating Daddy to try it this year, because I imagine that would be a hysterical sight.
There were grapes falling out everywhere, it was really rather disgusting.
Just, no.
After the rave, we went to a bar/club that we had paid 4€ for entry and a free drink. Not too shabby. But they did not have a cloakroom, which was most disappointing and meant we had to dance around with out coats on, or in my case, half hanging off. You would never see that in England. People wouldn’t even have brought their coats, never mind that it was -2 degrees outside.
It was fun though, the club was good, there were loads of Erasmus students, which meant we got to see some people from our course and Emily as well which was so, so lovely. There was a lot of hugging and screaming involved.
Pure bliss.
By 5am we were all thoroughly exhausted. I made friends with an Irish guy called Ronan (yes, he’s heard all the jokes before) as we sat outside, in the freezing cold, just ready for bed. So we found our way back to the bus, covered ourselves in our handy blankets and I dug into the cheese sandwich they had given us for lunch, that I had the sense to save for an opportune moment like this. Soraya and I also shared a peanut butter sandwich, which (in the immortal words of Blue Peter) I had prepared earlier.
We arrived back to Granada cold, tired and, well, hungover. Mummy and Uncle Adam really enjoyed the sight of me sat in the dark, extremely pale and unable to contend with loud noises, when we FaceTimed later that day.
In other news, last night we had a farewell Christmas dinner. I was in charge of vegetables. And thankfully there was not one nut-roast in sight. As a meat-eating vegetarian, let me tell you that nut-roast (which seems to be the go-to meal for veggies at Christmas) is nowhere near as good as chicken/turkey/anything else.
Fortunately for us, we had aubergine parmigiana, stuffing balls, this lentil Moroccan thing, veggie crepes and of course, my vegetables. There was also some fantastic veggie gravy, which was much appreciated as I slathered it all over my mashed potatoes.
By the end, I was stuffed and in a lot of pain from over eating. I was fearful that I would have to be rolled home. This is my aim for Christmas, to eat so much that Mummy and Daddy have to roll me onto the plane.
Wup, there I go….
Which brings us right up to date. To four days to going home. To my Spanish exam in two days and my painful wait for my Erasmus grant. But really, I can get through these four days, and I can get through this exam, and (just) I can get through the wait for my money. Because I’m going home for Christmas.
See you on the other side, folks.
Let's Talk About Spain, Baby 