Thursday, May 3, 2012

3 Countries, 2 Continents, 1 Week (part 1)

In 2002 I left a study abroad in Madrid with a big middle finger in the air screaming "NEVER AGAIN, SPAIN, NEVER AGAIN!!" I spent an entire semester looking down on the metro to see someone else's hand in my pocket, dodging piles of dog poo on the sidewalks, getting locked out of my host family's house, being timed while taking a shower, picking pin feathers out of chicken, sneaking off to the bathroom to dump cups of coffee down the sink so I wouldn't offend my host mom and being surprised by meat fillings in pastries I thought would be sweet.  I do realize that part of my poor experiences may have been because I was a naive blonde 19 year old American girl with no worldly experience, save several trips to Epcot. I kept that vow for 10 years.

Then, while planning our April Vacation (yeah I said April Vacation because yeah I get 14 weeks off a year. Go ahead and drool, it is my benefit for living in The Russia) the SOUTH of Spain started singing its' Siren Song and I found myself booking the Marriott Vacation club in Marbella, Spain. Whistle whistle look at my pool. Whistle whistle Paella. You like how my Sangria tastes? Oh, are you look  at Yo? Hola, Lover! Who could resist South of Spain? She is such a pervert.

So we booked 4 nights in Spain. Then my husband, who also had a piss of a time in Spain once upon a time in a small town called Barcelona, realized we could not spend the entire trip in Spain, we needed to diversify. He was not a 19 year old dumb blonde American girl when he went, but his bad experience could be explained by his high expectations due to his love of the Counting Crows and their serenades to Spain. Come to think of it, Adam Duritz, may be responsible for  for a lot of my Husband's issues. An entirely different post. We began looking at nearby cities, and countries, and decided to go all in by planning the last of our 3 days split between Gibraltar and Morocco. This is how we ended up on 2 continents in the course of a week.

I am making it sound much more jet setter-y and dramatic than it is.  It was actually the perfect span of time for these 3 locations, and the travel time was not outweighed by the enjoyability, which is easily which a diagnostic symptom of trying to cram too much in in too small of a span of time.

Saturday we flew in to Malaga airport. We flew on the airline that shall not be mentioned. Grrr. We arrived around 1am, grabbed our rental car and headed to the crappy, near the airport motel, we booked just to crash for the night. We woke up, had a leisurely breakfast of this:

Churros con Chocolate
Yeaaaah that is basically fried bread and a melted chocolate bar. That was on the breakfast menu. What was it I didn't like about Spain again? I can't remember. You misunderstood.

Then we drove out to Marbella, and I was poolside with my ginormous copy of Atlas Shrugged, Sangria in hand, bitching about how I had to lug this gigantic book with me even though I had it downloaded in ibook because my iPad is impossible to read outside by 1pm. Anyone who is framiliar with Atlas Shrugged will see how this was a theme. First world problems, I has them. I am going to submit myself to anyday now. I spent the rest of the day with my girl-friend getting faded on Sangria any other alcohol we could find, while the boys went for a bike ride. Then we stocked up at the grocery store since our rental had a full kitchen. Pro tip: never go to the grocery store drunk or you will end up with nothing but cheese, ice cream and enough booze for a small bomb shelter because you know what goes with a nice bottle of wine? A second bottle of good wine, or maybe a second bottle of not so good wine, who cares at that point?

Back at the hotel we walked down the beach in search of dinner, and ended up at a beach front bar that turned out to old serve booze and pointing to a chilled bottle of something pink at someone's table shouting, "we will have what he is having!"

Pro Tip: never do that in the South of Spain at a ritzy-ish seaside beach bar without asking the price first.

Pro Tip part dos: At least ask the price before you have a second bottle uncorked.

Yeah. Those bottles were 90 euros each. Nope, I have no idea what they tasted like. Who can remember such things when you end your night like this:

The rest of the time in Spain was basically rinse and repeat. Hungover by the pool or drunk looking for more booze. I would recommend this approach to vacation.


  1. Many individuals like that above different bar sinks. With regards to servicing as well as clean-up, you merely need to have simple and easy steps and you'll in a position to maintain that nicely.

  2. €90 bottles of Rosé! Oh me oh my! I would have made sure to get every drop out!
    That last picture of you is priceless by the way :)

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