The Ghosts of Junes Past

Sometimes, in order to see where we're going, it helps to see where we've been. At least, that's what I believe. In my daily handwritten journal, I quite often take a moment to look back and see what exactly I was doing on this day a year ago, to observe what I was thinking about, to read about my worries and laugh at how much things have changed. 

Although I'm not going to share any of those exact journal entries with the whole wide internet (far too embarrassing), I thought I'd take a moment today to take you on a trip down my memory lane to where I was on this date years and years ago. 

I first left home at the ripe old age of 18, so that's where we'll start. 

2007

In mid-June 2007, I had just finished high school and was taking a trip out to Maine for orientation at my new university. I was the perfect picture of teenage angst, having just broken up with my high school boyfriend and feeling like I would never love again. I couldn't wait to be an adult, to kick the dust of the Midwest off my feet, and start all over in a new exciting place, but I was still incredibly annoyed that my mom wanted to take pictures of me in Acadia National Park.

Struggles: Not having a summer job, missing my ex-boyfriend

Fears: That I wouldn't like my new roommate, that my new classes would be too difficult, that I would feel homesick in a new place all alone

Hopes for the next year: That Maine would fill all my lofty expectations, that I would find amazing new friends, that I would finally feel grown-up and independent when I left home

2008

By the time June 2008 had rolled around, I had settled quite nicely into life in Maine...so much so that I almost considered not coming home for the summer! I thought I had made those amazing lifelong friends I'd always dreamed about, my classes the previous year had gone well, and my homesickness had mostly dissipated after the first few months there. Going back to the Midwest for the summer was a slight culture shock, but I made up for it by exploring places in my hometown that I'd never been before, seeing everything with new eyes.

Struggles: Readjusting to a summer of Midwestern life after being away for a year, trying to become close again with my high school friends, starting to learn Spanish

Fears: That my Mainer boyfriend would find someone else while I was away, that my friends in Maine would forget about me over the summer

Hopes for the next year: That I would continue to grow closer to my friends in Maine, that I would find a cool yet cheap place to study abroad in

2009

Summer 2009 found me living in Spain for the first time, glad to escape Maine for awhile after a huge blowout between my boyfriend and my best friend there. After much deliberation, I'd chosen to study in Bilbao. This was because it was close to France, which I thought meant that they would be similar culturally. I was very, very wrong. I was trying to get better at Spanish but having a really hard time. I wasn't alone in my struggles, however, as I learned to do new (also super difficult) things like surfing with my fellow American study abroad students.

Struggles: Not being able to express myself in Spanish AT ALL and constantly mixing it up with French, not immediately loving Spain and regretting not studying abroad in France like I'd wanted to

Fears: That I'd made a mistake in coming to Spain and that studying abroad wouldn't be the experience of a lifetime like I'd always dreamed

Hopes for the next year: To become fluent in Spanish and travel all around Europe

2010

In June 2010, I had been back in the States a few months. Even though I had mixed feelings towards Spain at the end of my time studying there, once I was back in Maine I missed being in Europe and traveling so badly it hurt. I was spending the summer working a retail job that I hated, which really brought me down since I wanted something more for myself. There were only a few bright spots in that otherwise depressing summer, which were watching Spain win the World Cup and finally exploring Portland, Maine. I even went to a cool gay pride festival! 

Struggles: Feeling inadequate because I was the only person I knew who didn't have a cool summer job in their chosen field of study, missing Europe and my life there

Fears: That I wouldn't be able to find a professor to advise the thesis I wanted to write on the translation of poetry, that I would get stuck working retail forever, that the majors I had chosen would make me unemployable

Hopes for the next year: To find a graduate program that would lead me towards a job that I would find more fulfilling than working in sales

2011

In summer 2011, I had just defended my thesis, graduated from university, and left Maine for good. I had forgotten all about going to graduate school. In the end, my desire to go back to Spain won out, and I had been accepted as an auxiliar de conversación in A Cañiza, Galicia. So I went back to Illinois and spent the summer with my family and old friends, waiting to leave. That was a little dull at times, but I did take a couple of cool trips, like one to the rolling hills of West Virginia! There, my sister, her husband, my nephew and I went ziplining with Ace Adventure Resort, which was--in a word--awesome. I loved swinging through the trees like George of the Jungle!

Struggles: Being single again for the first time in nearly four years, leaving behind all my friends in Maine, trying to gather together ridiculous amounts of paperwork for a Spanish visa

Fears: That I would hate Spain again, that I had forgotten all my Spanish, that teaching would be a nightmare

Hopes for the next year: To travel a lot more around Europe, to finally have Spanish friends

2012

After my second year in Spain, by June 2012 I was feeling very comfortable there. I had no desire to go home for the summer when I had the legal right to stay, so I took a position as an au pair in a suburb of Madrid. Before I left Galicia everyone told me I was going to asar (fry) in the capital, but I had no idea how much! The heat was unbearable. That coupled with being stuck in the suburbs was a bit difficult, but I was able to spend some time exploring Madrid and learning more about day-to-day Spanish family life. My Spanish also improved quite a bit!

Struggles: Feeling lonely because I knew no one my own age in Las Rozas, getting broken up with in Spanish via text message, dealing with the summer heat of Madrid

Fears: That I would never make close Spanish friends in Vigo, that my living situation would be as miserable as the year before

Hopes for the next year: To join a weekly Couchsurfing meeting and make friends there, to live with Spaniards, to become more integrated at my work in A Cañiza

2013

The summer of 2013 found me leaving Spain again, this time with a very heavy heart. I didn't want to leave behind the amazing life that I'd built for myself in Vigo, with fun activities, great friends, and some incredible Spanish and German roommates. But I also realized that opportunities to realize your life goals (like living in France) don't come around every day. I knew that if I didn't go to France, I would always regret it. So I reluctantly said my goodbyes and faced my destiny. But before heading back to sweet home Chicago to get my French visa, I got to go on an awesome Eurotrip with my parents to gorgeous places like Lake Bled, Slovenia! That made the pain of leaving Spain lessen ever so slightly, and I was glad.

Struggles: Saying goodbye to my wonderful friends and life in my favorite city in Spain (Vigo), packing two years' worth of possessions into one suitcase

Fears: That I would hate living in France and regret leaving Galicia, that my French was awful and no one would understand me

Hopes for the next year: To become fluent in French and have a year in France that would fulfill the fantasies I'd been having since I was 14

2014

At this time last year, I was doing some final little trips around Brittany (like to Brest) before leaving France. I had incredibly mixed feelings about leaving, as I'd had a real rollercoaster of a year. I didn't feel quite finished with France. It seemed like there was still more to learn, and definitely room for improvement with my French. But at the same time, Spain (like the jealous ex-boyfriend it is) wouldn't let go of its firm grasp on my heart. So I was going to be heading back to the States soon, a pitstop on the way to my fourth year in Spain. I was starting to feel super nervous about being a graduate student and was a bit uncertain whether teaching was actually for me. I'd just finished a year working at a really difficult school, and wasn't sure whether my struggles were a reflection of my inadequacies as a teacher or just the result of a hard situation. 

Struggles: Feeling sad over a relationship that was about to end, already missing the friends I had just said goodbye to, getting tired of changing countries just as I was beginning to feel comfortable

Fears: That it would be really difficult to get a Master's degree, that everyone else would know more about teaching than me, that I would hate living in Madrid

Hopes for the next year: To feel integrated and fulfilled in my new teaching job, that my Master's classes would be interesting and informative, that a graduate degree would make me more employable

2015 (The Present Day)

So here we are in mid-June 2015. I'm spending my time saying goodbye to all my favorite people and places in and around Madrid, because as far as I'm aware, I'm leaving Spain for good this time. Of course, I thought that two years ago, and six years ago as well, so one never knows. But that's the plan. I'm working on finding a big-girl teaching job without the title of "assistant" attached to it, in a place I can legally live for more than one year at a time. I've just finished my very last Master's class and I'm getting ready to graduate next week. Then I'll be off on (perhaps my final) big European Vacation with my parents! Getting ready to (I think) end my years in Spain is a big step for me, but my heart isn't quite so heavy at the thought of leaving this time. It feels like the right decision in order to further my teaching career and accomplish my life goals, so I'm going more or less without regrets. 

Struggles: Trying to plan a big vacation while also doing 2-3 interviews a week, saying goodbye to all my beloved little students

Fears: That my Master's degree will be very difficult to validate in the USA, that I'll never find a job because of my lack of American teaching certificate, that I'll really miss living in Spain and struggle a lot with culture shock wherever I end up

Hopes for the next year: To have a more permanent job working with the age group I prefer in a place I could see myself living happily for several years, to feel more stable in life, love, friendship, and everything else

So what have we learned from this exercise?

One, I should be incredibly wary of romantic relationships in summer. I have literally never broken up with anyone significant at any other time of year. Weird, huh?

But more importantly, the real value of seeing the things that haunted me in Junes past is noticing how insignificant they seem now. We humans sometimes get lost in the all-consuming concerns of the present. We forget that our worries of today are our silly anecdotes of tomorrow. 

It's hard to remember that the things I'm so worried about now will eventually resolve themselves. It seems impossible to imagine a world in which I have other things to think about. But looking at my past problems and knowing that everything worked out just fine makes it easier to know that the fears gnawing at my soul today will seem funny on this date in one year, five years, ten years. 

Does that mean I can forget about them now? No, of course not.

But maybe it will help me to feel just a little bit less scared of the unknown. And every time I feel a little less worried and afraid, it makes it easier to move forward. 

In the end, that's my biggest hope for all future years: to know that qué será será and to learn to embrace that with open arms. 

Photo Post: Graduation Goggles about Alcalá de Henares

As my time here in Alcalá de Henares draws to a close, I realize that I'm starting to get a case of graduation goggles. As explained by Robin in How I Met Your Mother, graduation goggles are when you begin to feel nostalgic as something is ending, even if you didn't really enjoy it that much in the first place. There couldn't be a more fitting description to how I feel about Alcalá right now. As much as I have felt stuck here during the past year, I'm starting to notice the little things about this town that I'm going to miss. 

Don't get me wrong, I'm still incredibly excited to be getting out of here in less than 3(!) weeks. I can't wait to see my parents again and do some glorious traveling. 

But during the past few weeks, I've been walking around town saying to myself "Wow, that building where Christopher Columbus met King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella really is beautiful," or "I forgot how cool it is that I live in the town where both Cervantes and Catherine of Aragon were born!" 

So I've been taking pictures of these little things that I'm noticing all over again. I'm hoping to cement them in my memory so that I can think back fondly on my time in Alcalá, rather than remembering the bad moments. 

It may be quixotic of me to think so, but we will meet again one day, Don Quixote! 

(Forgive me, I just can't help myself from being punny)

Yes, this town is obsessed with Cervantes. I'd kind of forgotten how silly that seemed to me when I first arrived here!

A quick break in the beautiful university courtyard during a long Friday afternoon class. The fountains are soothing, and it's very easy to picture yourself being a student here hundreds of years ago. 

I'd also forgotten how impressive I initially found it that I'd be studying in the third-oldest university in Spain. But the buildings, once I stop to pay attention to them again, really are very impressive. I wish I'd been in this state of mind the day the King of Spain stopped by to give away the Cervantes prize...I might have actually made the effort to go down and check out the hubbub!

Here's the building where Catherine of Aragon was born, and where Columbus was given the money to go "discover" America. I like to think that both things were announced from this very balcony...because I have an incredibly active imagination. 

The other day I discovered a random little art gallery tucked away next to one of my favorite restaurants. I saw this piece through the doorway, and couldn't help but go in to see it a little closer.

I often joke about how I'm living in the desert. The heat these past few weeks has been...not so fun. But graduation goggles make me appreciate the pretty color of the dead grass, and the fact that I don't need to worry about bringing a just-in-case sweater with me, ever. 

Alcalá's town square, where I can go to listen to random salsa music on a Saturday night and where I run into my little students every day of the week. This is arguably the most beautiful and representative place in town, and probably what I'll remember most once I'm gone!

Usually, graduation goggles aren't really a fun thing, as they obscure your vision and make you think things that aren't true. But I've actually been kind of enjoying wearing them these last few weeks. I'm seeing Alcalá once again through the eyes of a visitor and appreciating it all the more. It's actually been kind of fun! Who knows what other tiny cool details I'll notice before I leave; I'm excited to find out!

Grateful

I've been in a little bit of a mopey mood recently. There isn't anything in particular that's wrong, but I've been stressed about the future, about money, and about where I want to work and settle down, among other things. I haven't been the most fun to talk to lately as I worried aloud about all these issues.

But just today, out of nowhere, a sense of peace descended upon me. I don't know exactly where it came from. Maybe it's just the knowledge that things have always worked out before, and they will again, even if it takes some time. I'm certainly glad to be feeling less negative.

This sudden calm has left me feeling an immense sense of gratitude. I have so many things to be excited about, both large and small!

The first big one is that just over a week ago, I turned in my Master's thesis. It felt so good to get that weight off my chest! I mean, I do like writing, but by the end I was just ready to turn it in and forget about it. Cheers to a huge accomplishment! Even the roses in Alcalá came out to celebrate my handing in my thesis.

Related to that is the fact that I'm going to graduate with a Master's degree from the Universidad de Alcalá de Henares in just over 3 weeks. I can't believe it! It's been a long road to get here. There have been some good moments, and I've met a few nice people, but overall I'm ready to move on from this. It's been a difficult year. So I'm excited to move onto the next chapter of my life.

Of course, my graduation will also mean finishing my contract at my current school. There have been lots of ups and downs there, but in the end all I can think about is how much I'm going to miss my little students. They've really burrowed their way into my heart!

But onward and upward, as I have so many exciting things coming up in the next few months! As soon as I finish studying and working, my parents are coming to visit for a celebratory trip around the Baltics. Seeing new places with my two favorite people in the whole world, what better?

It's been too long since I've actually been on a proper vacation, so I am super psyched for all the travels I have coming up in the next few months. I feel like I've been caged up all winter, and soon I'll be FREE! I have all sorts of new adventures in store for me. One really exciting one will be visiting my old roommate from when I was living in France last year. I can't wait to see her again!

And feeling grateful wouldn't be complete if I wasn't also taking note of the smaller good things in life. Just last weekend, I took myself on a little adventure when running. I decided to go on a new path and ended up visiting the old Roman village of Complutum. There's not a lot left to look at, but there's still something thrilling about the fact that I can randomly visit Roman ruins on my morning run.

One more little thing--as I write this very post, I'm sitting on my balcony having dinner and watching the sunset. The temperature is perfect, and I'm munching contentedly on olives and jamón. The people in the café below are chattering, and I'm listening to my 60s radio station on Spotify. I feel totally at peace with where I am right now. A perfect moment if I ever saw one!

Where Is Home?

I seem to have an innate inability to give a simple answer to a simple question.

What's your name? That depends on your native language, what country we are in, and the language we are currently speaking. Probably about half of my friends don't actually know my name, since I hate the way non-native English speakers mispronounce it. So I introduce myself in a more Spanish/French way, which is not my real name but sounds better to me than their butcherings. Bref, it's really /əlɪsə/. A homophone of Alyssa, not Elisa.

How many brothers and sisters do you have? How long have you got for me to explain it? It involves divorces and remarriages on both sides, and either way I answer it's confusing. In short, I grew up basically an only child, yet I still have a crapload of nephews and nieces.

Where are you from? Where are YOU from? My answer will depend greatly on that. Most times in my expat life, I say "near Chicago," but it's always really embarrassing when I meet another Illinoisian and they ask for more specifics. Ahem, how near is "near" to you?

And lately, I've been doing a lot of deep thinking about that last one. Not where am I from, but where is home? I have a hard time coming up with an answer, even a complicated one.

Is home the little town near Chicago where I was born and raised?

But I haven't lived there in 8 years. This past summer, I cleaned out and packed up the majority of my things from my childhood bedroom, knowing that I had officially moved on. My parents are going back to live where they consider home, up in Wisconsin. So although Northern Illinois is where I was raised, I'm not sure if it's home anymore.

Is home Alcalá de Henares, where I currently live?

As sad as it is, I've never felt particularly at home here in Alcalá. It's an all right town, I suppose, but I'm not very happy here. I don't feel very integrated into society, and I don't have a lot of friends. I'm not miserable, but I am rather bored. I'll be happy when my Master's degree is finished in a month and I can move on.

Is home Orono, Bilbao, Vigo, or Saint-Malo?

In the past 8 years, I've lived in 6 different cities. Just doing simple math, I think it becomes obvious that I haven't been able to stay in any of them very long. I've been a nomad for a long time, trying on different cities for size but moving on relatively quickly from all of them. There were things that I loved about all of these cities: Orono's student culture, Bilbao's alternative vibe, the friends I made in Vigo, the language I spoke in Saint-Malo. But were any of them home? I don't think I was able to stay long enough to find out.

I'm getting really tired of this itinerant life. I will always love traveling, but I'm not the type that can do it continually. My heart is bruised from being fractured into pieces every single time I move. I need a stable home to come back to at the end of a long journey. I want my comfy warm bed to fall into, my car in the driveway, and my long-term friends to meet for coffee the next day to share my stories with.

So right now, my task is to build that permanent home for myself. To find a place where I can stay legally and make it mine. The question is, where?

Back to Northern Illinois or some other part of the American Midwest, where my permanent ties still are? Where I speak the language and know the culture like the back of my hand? Where everything is easy? Where I've traveled more than anyone I know? Where I've felt like an alien when I've visited every summer for the past 8 years?

To some other part of the States? To explore something new and yet still be "at home"? To make a new part of the country my own? To still be at a great distance from my family, even after all these years of missing them?

To a new country? To learn a new language or dialect? To explore a new part of the world? To be in a place where I'm all alone, again? Where I still need a visa to stay? Where I'd have to learn a whole new set of cultural paradigms? Where I'm far from everyone I love?

These questions have been running continually through my head for months now, and I still have no clear answers. I've been trying to listen to what my soul is telling me, but it's coming through like garbled static on a badly tuned radio.

I heard a quote recently in one of my meditations that I really liked. It was from a man called Philip McKernan, and it went "In the absence of clarity, take action." He was saying that if you don't know what to do, just do something. Even if it turns out badly, at least then you'll know one more thing that isn't right for you!

So I guess that's the plan. I have no idea what's right or where my home should be. So until I do, I just have to take some action, any action, and hope for the best. I have one month left of living in Alcalá de Henares, and then...

Once more unto the breach!

Photo Post: A Very Spanish Field Trip

This past week, I went on quite possibly the best field trip of my life. There was some stiff competition, since last year I got invited to go with my 15-year-old French students for a day to Jersey, a British island off the coast of France, which was pretty darn cool. But this year, I went on a three-day trip with my 10-year-olds to the school "farm" (in reality more like summer camp). That doesn't sound that cool, I guess, just saying it like that, but it was honestly so nice.

 I think just on the merits of food alone, this year's field trip was the winner by far...not that British food is hard to beat.

My god, look at all that food porn. Seriously, I was served amazing four-course meals made by a Michelin-star-level chef three times a day. I was stuffed until I literally could not move.

Luckily, that was fine, since my duties consisted of nothing more strenuous than taking walks around the camp to see how the kids were doing ziplining and rock climbing with their counselors, talking down a girl who was a little homesick, and dancing like an idiot with my students at the camp "disco."

Working hard holding a bunny for kids to pet...

Checking out a sheep eating some hay off his brother's back...

Other than that, I took naps, read a book for fun, and worked on my thesis. Such a difficult life! But I'd really needed a little time off to get some perspective on the fact that in just over a month, I'll have my master's degree and I'll be unemployed. Until then, it's full steam ahead!

Takeaway from My First Blogging Conference

This past weekend, I went to my first-ever blogging conference, TBEX Europe 2015. I honestly wasn't sure what to expect before I went, and I felt increasingly nervous about it in the weeks leading up, as I thought more and more about what it might be like. 

Would I be the only non-pro blogger there?

Would the others laugh at my silly little "hobby" blog?

Would I find the information useful when I have no real intention of monetizing my blog?

Would I actually be brave enough to try to talk to a large crowd of 400 strangers?

Something you have to understand about me is that I'm enormously introverted as well as shy to boot. Large crowds of strangers make me extremely nervous, especially when I perceive them to be "better" than me somehow. So this conference had the potential to be a perfect storm of awkwardness for me. But I'm determined to overcome my social anxiety and become better at making new friends, so the weekend was also a perfect opportunity to practice that! 

The first day was extremely overwhelming. We arrived later than other people on the day after the official welcoming party due to work schedules, so things were in full swing as we walked in. Lots of others seemed to know each other, and while I was introduced to some people right away, I felt so self-conscious about making a bad first impression that I probably didn't make one at all. 

After a couple of sessions on improving the writing style of our blogs and a big lunch, I felt slightly more at ease, so during the afternoon when other people were networking with airlines and tourism boards, I was trying to build up the courage to talk to some strangers and make new friends. I kept circulating throughout the room, ostensibly checking out the pastry selections on the various tables scattered throughout the hotel lobby and continuously downing and refilling my glass of water. In reality, I was scoping out whether there seemed to be any friendly-looking people whose conversation I could easily join. A couple of times, I awkwardly stood next to groups of people, waiting for a good moment to jump into what they were saying, but finding none, eventually slunk away. After awhile, I found myself sitting at a table in the corner by myself, furiously scribbling away in my journal, disappointed in my lack of social skills. 

The more I wrote, though, the clearer my thoughts became, and I eventually came to the conclusion that although I need to work on starting conversations with strangers, I haven't given up yet, and that is admirable. Despite my clear lack of ease in this area, I keep putting myself in situations that will require me to practice conversing with new people, and for that I was proud of myself. I realized that although I had been a bit of a failure so far in the conference, the remainder did not have to be predicated on what had already happened. There was still opportunity for improvement. 

Just realizing this felt like a huge weight being lifted from my shoulders. My anxiety didn't dissipate entirely, but I felt more courageous about spending the rest of the weekend chatting with strangers. 

That night and the whole next day, I made a great effort to jump into people's conversations, even when it felt awkward or strange. And I began to find that people didn't really seem to mind. Bloggers are a pretty friendly bunch, after all. 

Of course, I would be greatly amiss if I didn't mention that I was greatly aided by the fact that I happened to have come to the conference with two of the biggest names in the travel blogging world, my friends Linda and Craig from Indie Travel Podcast. Just mentioning their names with new people gained me instant recognition, and they spent the whole conference introducing me to all the most important people in travel blogging, who also just happen to be some of their best friends. I have to say, it was kind of weird to be chatting with new people one night and then realizing the next day that they were giving some of the most important talks in the whole conference (including the closing night session)! 

Still, in general, I think I learned a thing or two about small talk with strangers, and I'll be interested to try to put that into practice in the future (with or without a buddy there to hook people with "Have you met Alisa?")!

I also learned that I'm just a wee bit different from a lot of other bloggers. I've never felt so out-of-step with the times as being asked hundreds of times in one weekend for my Twitter handle, when I still don't really "get" why I should be on Twitter in the first place, and therefore don't have one! I also don't have business cards about my blog, the other big currency at a travel blogging conference. Oops. 

It seemed like the majority of other people at TBEX were trying to make contacts to be able to sell things from their blog, or use their blog as a means of advertisement so they could go on comped trips. Now, I don't think there's anything wrong with that--there's obviously a need for companies to promote their product (vacations), and many bloggers have become unwilling to provide for that need using money out of their own pocket. I get that. It makes a lot of sense, and I found the weekend immersed in this whole new world of advertising through blogging and of people who travel for a living absolutely fascinating. 

That said, I have no real desire to make money from Alisabroad. I don't really care if I make a name for myself, I don't give a damn about SEO, and I don't intend to make this blog my full-time job. I'll never say never, because no one can ever know what the future will bring, but for now I'm really, genuinely only writing for myself. That's not to say that I don't appreciate that people want to read what I write, but I'm here for the community, I want to share my experiences because I think it brings me closer with people, and I have no desire to try to convince people to do anything, except maybe learn English as a second language. Seriously. 

Still, despite occasionally feeling like a fish out of water, I had some lovely moments at the conference. It was nice to be surrounded by people who really "get" my lifestyle, who are also constantly on the move, who haven't settled down yet in a permanent home. When we met, it wasn't "Where are you from?" but rather "Where are you currently based?" and "Where have you been recently?" 

One of my favorite moments from the whole conference was on the last night, standing with a group of women, discussing the nitty-gritty practicalities of traveling long-term. "What do you do about shampoo?" one of them asked. Suddenly we were trading secrets about refilling travel-size shampoo bottles with luxury shampoo, debating the practicalities of checking a bag occasionally, and lamenting those times when we'd had to throw away a half-full shampoo bottle before getting on a plane. I felt like they truly got what my life is like in a way I haven't in a long while, and that was good. 

So even if I may never use some of the marketing tools I learned at the conference, it was definitely worth it for me socially, if nothing else. And besides that, it was lovely to have an excuse to get away to a beachside town like Lloret de Mar for the weekend. Have I mentioned yet that I really miss the ocean?

I was also incredibly impressed by the welcome we received from the Costa Brava tourist board, who gave us adorable gift bags with the best present inside--a free portable phone charger! 

And then there was the food. Oh my god, the food. I was blown away by the amount of food put in front of my face, free for the taking, in one short weekend. I spent the lunch buffets stuffing my face with seafood, and then got to the dessert table and went only slightly overboard with a desire to try absolutely everything. Buffets are dangerous for the adventurous eater, oh yes they are! 

I was honestly shocked by not only the quantity of food given to us, but the incredibly elaborate way in which it was presented. Behold the butter dolphins on the seafood table, which seemed so elaborate and extravagant that I felt like I was at a fancy wedding. 

I was also impressed with the hotel I stayed at (chosen by me and not affiliated with the conference at all). Slightly out of the way at the other end of the beach from the conference's hotel complex, it was a rundown mom-and-pop place where the receptionist seemed incredibly relieved that I spoke Spanish, because he clearly couldn't communicate in anything besides that and Catalan. I'm fond of authentically Spanish places like this, especially after the slightly jarring feeling of being surrounded by other English speakers at a conference in Spain, leaving me unsure what language to speak in to the conference's hotel staff. But my shabby little 25€-a-night hotel had one major perk--free continental breakfast served on their garden terrace. Toootally worth it. 

Another great thing about the weekend that had nothing at all to do with the conference itself was the discovery of a bunch of food trucks on the town's main square. I had both authentic Mexican food as well as my first galette bretonne avec du cidre in nearly a year. So ridiculously good. 

And getting back to the conference itself, I was also amazed at the effort put into the official parties. Free sangría on the hotel rooftop? A party overlooking the beach at night, complete with Galician queimada? Wow. That even gave me a chance to impress people with my stories of exactly how this firey drink is prepared, and all the times I had it while living in my beloved Galicia. 

So, overall, was TBEX worth it? Although I was somewhat at counter-purposes with the actual raison d'être of the event, I still had a really good time. I thought the information sessions were mostly of high quality and very interesting, regardless of whether I ever put that information to good use or not. The food was excellent and abundant, the parties were tasteful and culturally appropriate, and the other bloggers were not as scary or snobby as I had initially feared. So, was it worth my $129? I'd have to say without hesitation, a huge resounding YES. 

Will I go again to a future TBEX? I don't know yet, but I would absolutely consider it, for the food and friends alone, if nothing else!

An Argument for Places With Bad Weather

Bilbao

This past weekend, I was taking a more-than-slightly damp walk through El Retiro in Madrid with a fellow former assistant teacher who was in Galicia at the same time as me. As we squished along, we started reminiscing about the rain in my favorite community in Spain. As I know very well by now, the rain in Spain does NOT fall mainly on the plain! The rain in Galicia was a constant companion, and I came to find its presence more comforting than anything else. The big rainstorm here on Saturday was one of only a handful since I arrived in this desert last August, and it made me think about how I really miss chilly, cloudy days.

I know people think I'm strange for saying this, but I love places with bad weather. I can't tell you how many arguments I've had with people who've tried to insult the various places I've lived in my life (which, with the exception of Alcalá de Henares, are all known for their not-so-stellar weather). They ask why I wouldn't want to live somewhere like the south, where there is sun and heat and beaches. And I say, "Bleh."

Why? Well, first of all, I hate hot weather. Anything above about 25˚C (77˚F) is too hot for me and makes me super uncomfortable. But if that weren't enough, I have all kinds of reasons I like bad weather. Some of them are superficial, like the fact that I think winter clothes are cute, and that I like winter sports better than summer ones. 

I was a figure skater for 15 years, after all...

However, I also have more philosophical reasons, things that I think touch on the core of my personality type. 

Everywhere I've ever lived (Spain, France, the USA), people have told me about their theories that people from the South are very open to strangers but that they're also kind of fake, and people from the North are difficult, cold and unfriendly at first, but once you make your way into their hearts, you'll be friends forever. Is this true? I can't say for certain, although my confirmation bias and the fact that I am a born-and-bred northerner says YES, 100%. 

What I do think is true about the people from these northerly latitudes is that they are forced to be more resilient. When it rains every day for 6 months, you don't whine about it, you just get boots and an umbrella and go about your business anyway. When your car is buried in a snow avalanche, you shovel it out as best you can and drive much more carefully to work. Little things like weather don't get these people down! 

Maine

And when you're used to bad weather, you don't complain about it so much. It's a fact of life, not something to mope about! And in fact, there is a great deal of beauty to be found in stormy weather, which you only begin to notice when you're exposed to it repeatedly, day after day. 

Maine

For me, at least, there are few things more magical than a blanket of snow over a field, like an empty canvas waiting to be filled in, or trees painted white by frost. Both of the places I've lived in the USA are great winter wonderlands, and I loved them for it.

Illinois

I am equally enchanted by fog rolling over green hillsides, creating an air of mystery and romance. Fog patterns were a topic I became intimately familiar with in my two years in Galicia, and I loved going through foggy forests, then climbing the mountains to see the mist from above. 

Cañones do Sil, Galicia

Bad weather on the ocean can also be breathtaking. One of the most amazing moments in my life was watching the grandes vagues (big tides) come into St. Malo. The storm created quite a show, and I've rarely felt so much reverence for the awesomeness of the natural world around me as when the ocean soaked me from head to foot and then broke in the windows of the restaurant where I'd been! 

St. Malo, Brittany

I'm either a very moody romantic or Mary Mary quite contrary, but I like being forced to sit inside wrapped in a blanket with a steaming hot tea on a cold rainy/snowy day. I actually feel guilty when the weather is too good, because I don't like being outside all the time, especially not in the heat and sunshine! Sometimes I'd rather appreciate the beauty of raindrops winding their way down my windowsill. I also enjoy falling asleep to the pounding of raindrops on my roof. There are few things more soothing!

Vigo, Galicia

Lots of precipitation has another plus, which is that it turns everything it touches a vibrant shade of green. No, really! I swear, the plants in Galicia are on another level compared with those in other places I've lived. That was good, because when I did feel like going outside and appreciating nature, it was really worth my while! 

Near Santiago, Galicia

And when you're used to bad weather, you're more able to handle it when you encounter rainy or snowy skies on your travels. You know exactly what to do to keep yourself safe and happy when you need to, because you know all the tricks to living in a place with difficult weather. It never takes you by surprise, like it might for those people used to perpetually warm sunny days!

Near Edinburgh, Scotland

Lisbon, Portugal

Clouds also create an awesome backdrop for photos, since they make the rest of the colors pop so much. I like going out and taking photos on yucky days because the moody clouds look so pretty!

Near where I lived in St. Malo, Brittany

Gorgeously moody skies in Bilbao, Spain

I also think that going through lots of bad weather really makes you appreciate the good weather more when it does come. I remember when I was studying in Maine, every year the first day that all the snow had melted off the university mall and it was above 40˚F (5˚C) about three-quarters of the campus was sitting outside studying or playing frisbee. What would be considered end-of-the-world cold in other places was a cause for celebration in a place where two months before it was -30˚ (~F and C, how weird is that?) and we'd had a warning that if we stayed outside for more than ten minutes, we were at risk for frostbite. If every day were sunny and warm with perfect temperatures, you would never get to feel joy at the return of the sun in spring! 

It's so cheesy, but the bad weather makes you appreciate the rainbow that comes after so much more than if you saw one every single day. Or at least, that's what I think. 

Especially if it's a double rainbow, like this one in Liverpool, England!

So there you have it, I've pled the case for the greatness of bad weather! I know most of the world will never agree with me, and I'm sure I'll have arguments about this for years to come, but this is my opinion and I'm sticking to it! 

And you? Do you have more of a sunny disposition, or a moody cloudy one?