Ten Things I’ve Learned About Myself and Other Ramblings

As a way of putting in effort to write something new, I figured I would scribble a list of things I have learned about myself in Spain thus far….

1. I’m TERRIBLE at blogging!

This needs no explanation…..just look at the lack of posts.

2. I simply can’t hang.

Hats off to the Spaniards and their ever so resilient livers. I simply can’t do it. I cannot, for the life of me, party the way they do. I figured since I make an annual, sometimes biannual, trip to Vegas, I would be fine. This was a big fat lie I told myself. How do they do it!? I must learn their ways!

3. I actually like soccer.

I’m going to give my people a chance to read that again…it’s okay…I’ll wait while that sinks in.
Yes, I like the game! After watching countless World Cup matches, I have been converted.

4. I can drive a stick shift in the worst of conditions.

Folks, my dear friend Judy fed me to the wolves during our trek to Pamplona. As we sat at a gas station, filling up our car, she looks at me and says, “I think it’s time for you to learn.” Now, I drive a motorcycle and understand the mechanics….this does not, in anyway, make driving a manual any less frightening at the ripe age of 27. Initially, things were fantastic. Once on the freeway I thought, “This is easy, I can do this!” But the Spain had another plan, er…route. The hotel we so mistakenly chose to stay at was at the top of Mount Olympus and I order to get to it, hobbit-like villages had to be crossed; villages that consisted of trapezoidal speed bumps two feet high (okay, like half a foot) that the car could not clear and several audiences watching the frightened white American girl stall, scrape, and nearly kill herself trying to get over. As if that wasn’t enough, the single (they say double, I say go @&$* yourself) road full of cows, their extremely large droppings, and other various animals, was to be our only road in and out. Even our GPS was questioning the location of this place. A good hour and three wrong turns later, we pull onto a single cobblestone road with a lady riding a horse, ten dogs running towards the car, and several cats hissing. I finally park the car with frustration as Judy consistently laughed her way into the hotel.

Needless to say, we didn’t stay there. We checked out the next day and got something closer to Pamplona.

5. I am either totally okay with Spanish or lost in a crazy maze of lisps and letters

I have my stellar moments where I channel the years of Spanish I learned that is buried deep, deep inside the vaults of my brain and make my way through a conversation.

But most of the time I look like a frightened child preparing for the beating of her life. I swear, I’ll just sit there, eyes wide, brow furrowed, head shaking, and mouth slightly gapped trying to just pick out ONE WORD that I recognize. Fortunately everyone is so friendly, they laugh at me and ask where I am from and all is well.

6. Martini Rojo is my new favorite!

Move over wine, move over whiskey, because Martini Rojo has taken your spot.

Just kidding, it’s just added to the list of deliciousness. There is always room for more favorites.

7. I’m still not a fan of big cities.

Th cities here are beautiful, cultured, crowded, and exciting and I want nothing to do with them. Give me Ronda, give me Granada and Cordóba, over Valencia and Madrid. Barcelona reminds me of Santa Cruz so I am letting it pass.

8. I despise living out of a suitcase.

The only reason I hate it is because I have to repack everything. With each passing apartment, my bag gets less and less organized and more chaotic. It’s the worst. Simply the worst.

9. Cleanliness is next to godliness or at least is so much better than having your city smell like piss.

SanFrancisco, get on it! Spain is SO CLEAN! People are constantly mopping their walkways, picking up garbage, sweeping the streets…it’s amazing. The cities have hired workers that are constantly cleaning the streets! Even in Pamplona after four days of debauchery, the streets were still cleaner than SF. Granted the smell of stale beer, vomit, and shame was ever so present BUT still, CLEAN!

10. Traveling is not a hobby, but my life.

I am going to dedicate my life to travel. I love this so much, every second of every day, I am smiling. Happy. Free. I can’t wait to plan y next trip.

Where should I go next?!

Published by

Breanna Eddy

Singer Writer Educator And completely happy!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s