CELTA

First off, apologies for the inexcusable lack of postage over the past couple weeks. But we are back. And with a vengeance.

Now, as many of you, our dear readers, know, we came to Vietnam to get our CELTA certifications and learn how to teach English as a second language. Briefly: CELTA, or Certificate in English Language Teaching to Adults, is an internationally recognized certification bestowed by Cambridge University. It is the most widely accepted qualification for teaching English, followed closely by the TESOL (run by Trinity College, London), with the various TEFL certifications having less weight as they have no standardizing organization.

We decided to do the CELTA at ILA in Vietnam for a couple reasons; 1) we'd been told that Vietnam is one of the best places to teach English and 2) ILA had the cheapest CELTA course that we could find anywhere in the world so 3) it seemed like a good fit. And it was.

That's not to say, however, that the CELTA is anything other than extremely demanding. It's not so much difficult as all-consuming; indeed, we were in class from 9AM-5PM every day and usually had to get there an hour early and stay a couple hours late to do some lesson planning… and then, once home, there was always more lesson planning to be done. Not to mention the written assignments we had to turn in every week. So very, very intense. And we were thrown right into it, having to teach a lesson on our second day of class, then more lessons every other day for the duration of the course. With each lesson, we were also expected to do better than the one before… so that meant that the grading was much more difficult with each and every lesson.

There were lots of other expectations as well, including a strict dress code. Teachers in Vietnam are highly respected and, as such, we have to look professional - guys had to wear ties every day and girls... well, they were supposed to dress up, but they got away with a lot more. Us guys were also allowed to have facial hair, but it had to be trimmed neatly, which led to some pretty ridiculous mustachioed looks for me, such as the one you see here at our favorite little lunch spot around the corner from the school.

We taught three levels - elementary, pre-intermediate, and intermediate - rotating through the classes every week or so until we had all taught three classes at every level. I think I had the toughest schedule as I began with the elementary learners and worked up to the intermediates. What was difficult about this one was that the elementary students have less English so the early classes have to be better and by the time we got to the intermediate level, they were doing more complex grammar which is also hard to teach. Kate, on the other hand, began with the intermediates and finished with the pre-intermediates.

Every level was filled with students who pay a deposit and have to attend a certain percentage of the classes to get their fees back. And not that I have anything else to compare them against, but from my limited experience, I think the Vietnamese students must be amongst the best in the world. They were all so eager to learn and participate and so curious as to our backgrounds but not at all disruptive. And they organized several outings for us, but that's a story for another blog.

San Diego

We came back to the States knowing it would be but a temporary jaunt into the Fatherland, just long enough to see some family, chide our friends for not reading our blogs, and renew our passports. We'd actually planned on just spending about a month in San Diego but, once that sweet, So Cal summer air hit our dangerously-exposed-to-H1N1 skins, we knew that a month just wouldn't be enough.

So we got some jobs. Well, sort of. For part of the time. Within our first week back, we both interviewed for temp jobs with AppleOne, America's least effective temp agency. After an hour and a half of pre-interview tasks, I breezed through my interview in about 3 minutes, only to find that another 2 hours of post-interview aptitude tests awaited me. Kate had a very similar reception, though I believe she got about 10 minutes on her interview. Not to mention a few days of paid work at the San Diego Comic Con. Indeed, Kate even managed to sneak me in for a few hours and I got to wander around amongst the most awkward people in the entire world. It was awesome. The costumes were amazing and there were some crazy toys in there, like the Mindflex game where you control a little ball using only the power of your MIND. We also got some cool free schwag, like a Live Long and Prosper giant foam hand. So not a bad job, though AppleOne didn't really come through for either Kate nor I again.

Despite my apparent lack of personableness, however, I did manage to secure a more interesting, rewarding, and steady job than Kate - through my mom. For those of you who don't know, my mom - who you may remember from Egypt or Peru - is a speech and language pathologist who works with special needs kids at Patrick Henry High School in addition to running the local branch of Circle of Friends, a social skills program for teens and young adults with disabilities. Through this (admittedly biased) connection, I was introduced to one of her former students, Will Hammer, and his mother, Liz, who hired me as Will's aide for a summer school course. I took notes, helped Will study, and drove him to and from a music appreciation class at Grossmont College. Solid professor, interesting class, and good to meet and befriend Will.

But if you think work was all we did over the summer, you obviously weren't in San Diego. I don't even know how to sum up the intense chilling that was going down through those few short months. Lots of Risk: The Game of World Domination™ was played, beaches were conquered, bands of friends from both San Diego and Los Angeles were seen, kickball was oft-repeated, FIFA 09 was learned, IRONMAN was amazing, and burritos were devoured. Suffice to say, it was largely all our old friends who made it such an awesome summer, so I'll just take a moment to recognize (in alphabetical order) Allison, Asher, Avi, Brian, Denise, Derek, Elliot, Gabe, Gabriel, Ilan, Keith, Lannice, Lauren, Mike P, Mike K, Morty, Nate, Nissa, Richard, Rosanna, Sam C, Sam K, Sean, Tony, and the others I've forgotten. I even reconnected with an old friend of mine from high school, Derek Pickern, who now has a two year old daughter. So weird for me.

And that's just San Diego. We also made it up north for a weekend in the Bay Area to go to the wedding of a friend of mine from film school by the name of Elaine. The wedding invite called for semi-formal attire, Art Deco encouraged. So Kate and I spent some time trying to figure out what to wear, settling on a three piece suit for myself and a cocktail dress with shoe clips and a feathered hat for her. Another film school friend, Elliot, and his girlfriend, Catherine, also went for the retro look… but we were pretty much the only four. Indeed, most of the attendants were in what could be described as business casual, with an emphasis on the casual. Probably smart, given that it was about 104 degrees outside, but definitely not particularly snazzy. Consequently, the four of us were in about 80% of the wedding photos, with Kate's hat even being borrowed to provide a backdrop for the rings photo. Definitely good to meet up with the old filmies, including Regina and Taneisha, again...

Now the wedding was in San Jose but we stayed with my sister Laurel in Berkeley and hung out with her and her boyfriend, Marcelo, for a night and a day, grabbing some tasty Mediterranean food and hitting up a farmer's market before the wedding. The day after, we met up with my old friend Brian and went to Thai brunch at a Thai Buddhist temple. So delicious - you just eat wherever you want in the neighborhood and wash it down with some Thai iced tea and some mango and sticky rice for dessert. Then you wash all that down with some beer while watching the US valiantly try to defeat Brazil but eventually losing pretty horribly in the Confederations Cup final.

It was good to see the sis and we also got to see some family a bit more locally with a few visits to see the grandparents, including a few milestones. My grandfather Sidney, aka Pop-Pop, turned 94, my grandmother Charlotte turned 91, and Pop-Pop and Granny (Sylvia) celebrated their 69th wedding anniversary. We also got some tips on Vietnam from my traveling aunt Marsha and discussed Entourage and The Hills with my uncle Al. My mom's other sister, Neetie, came out for a weekend so we got to catch up with her, as well as see my mom's cousin Margie right before we left. Oh, and we spent a lot of time with my parents, though I'm sure they'd tell you otherwise.

One thing they can't deny is that we ransacked their garage to help them sort through the mountains of stuff that have to disappear if they're going to get a couple cars in the garage. Some of that stuff is ours that we're storing… but most of it is their's that's just, well, there. But not nearly as much of it is there now as before we hit town, thanks to effective persuasive methods learned from Rosanna. We were able to get it rid of it partly by introducing the 'rents to the wonders of craigslist… but mostly by the fact that they already knew about the wonders of the Salvation Army.

So much more. Sushi nights, 5 foot snakes in the backyard, two Padres games, concerts, a trip to the World Famous San Diego Zoo, IMAX adventures, movies watched, and bars sampled (especially the Triple Crown Pub, which I can whole-heartedly recommend to anyone who likes bar games and good times). Somehow, despite our 12 weeks in San Diego - by far the longest we've spent in any one place in the past 2 years - the summer came to a conclusion before we'd even realized what had happened. We still managed to forget to do so many things and scrambled together in the last few days to put everything together for our bid to become certified English teachers. But get it together we did and we bid San Diego, the US, and all therein adieu as we boarded the plane that fateful Wednesday morning in September and set out for the next adventure: Vietnam.

Hotlanta

While we were out in Pittsburgh, we also took a little jaunt down to the Dirty South, to Kate's old haunt of Hotlanta. Her sister, Stephanie, and her brother and his wife (Chirs and Collins) all live there, along with the latest addition to the family, Kate's new baby niece, Emerson Ann Foster.

We stayed with Chris and Collins (and Stephanie and Emerson… and Mark and Elaine, as they'd come down to visit too) after completing the 12 hour drive through pockets of downpours so thick you could barely see three feet ahead. But once we got to Atlanta, the weather was beautiful, sunny, and not usually too terribly hot. We took advantage of it by getting outside and going to a beer festival. The East Atlanta Beer Festival, to be exact, where we got to sample over 170 craft beers. Chris and Collins were meant to join us but neglected to buy their tickets in advance and the event sold out. But Kate, Stephanie, and I soldiered on ahead and got our 6 oz tasting glasses filled time and time again, making sure to get our money's worth (which I know we did because at $30/ticket we'd have to drink roughly the equivalent of 6 12oz beers at $5/pop, or sample at least 12 beers/person, which, to say we did, would be an understatement, to say the least).

We did, however, meet up with Chris and Collins for some drinks later in the evening after a scrumptious dinner back home. Speaking of scrumptious dinners, we also went out to eat at Panahar, a Bengladeshi restaurant recommended highly by Chris who suggested we just ask them to order the food for us. We did and it was excellent. As they say, after all, every item there is "prepared to ensure freshness and flavor to achieve optimum taste." Quite tasty, as was the trip to Maggiano's, which would have been much less awkward had Stephanie not moved out of the way when I shot a projectile out of my straw at her, instead hitting the lady at the table behind us. I am, for those of you who don't know, twelve.

One unexpected Atlanta visitor was our friend Pargol. Blog readers may remember her from those 10 days of extreme awesomeness in Vienna for the Euro Cup, but she was also Kate's freshman year roommate at UCLA. Pargol was actually only in Atlanta for about 8 hours as she had a layover en route to South Africa where she was headed to go to Kate's other freshman year roommate's wedding. So we picked her up from the airport, got some brunch at the famous Flying Biscuit (our second time eating there during the trip, by the way), then wandered around the Highlands trying to shop for a wedding gift for two orthodox Jews, which is much more difficult than you might think. After all that, it was back to the airport and onto South Africa. For Pargol, at least.

For us, it was almost time to go, but not before going to a Braves game, courtesy of Mitsubishi Electric, Kate's Dad's company who put in the big screen at the stadium. We sat in the company seats right behind the Braves' dugout and watched them defeat the Cubs in dramatic fashion after a walk-off home run in the bottom of the 11th inning. Emerson didn't make it past the 9th (though she did excellently till then), but she did make it onto the big screen as Collins has a hookup with one of the camera men at Turner Field.

It was soon time to go, however, and we set off again for the 12 hour drive back, this time just Kate and I as her mother had flown back (though she drove down with us). On our way out of town, we swung through Lilburn, Kate's hometown, to see the BAPS Shri Swaminarayan Hindu Temple, the largest Hindu temple in North America. It's built from Italian marble, Turkish limestone, and Indian sandstone and every piece of it was carved by sculptors in India, then shipped to the States for assembly. It is, I can assure you, extremely impressive and worth a visit. We would have liked to stay for a service, but our timing unfortunately did not allow for such as we needed to get back on the long road up to Pittsburgh...

Pittsburgh, 09

Well, we are officially back on the road but before we beguile you with the fantastically strange of Saigon, how about a little recap of our Summer in the States?

We flew from A'dam to D.C. both because the flight was a great price and we were planning on making a weekend out of it with Kate's parents, until all involved decided not to bother with that place and instead we continued straight back to Pittsburgh. Most of our time in PA was spent recouping, planning and just hanging out with Kate's parents eating delicious food and drinking mojitos, Manhattans, and margaritas on the back porch. We did earn our keep, however, by helping with some renovations, like switching the living room and dining room, stripping off old wallpaper and plaster (the past owners had a penchant for large floral print wallpaper, pepto pink trim and green ceilings), as well as selling the old van for a wad of 5s and 1s.

Eating (along with breathing and drinking water) was also high on our agenda and we made sure to visit several topnotch farmers markets chock full of tasty tidbits and scrumptious scrunchies, including but not limited to orange and yellow beets, Amish pies and fresh picked corn, all for surprisingly affordable prices. We also made the obligatory trip to the Strip District which is tons of fun and a foody's heaven. If you visit Pittsburgh, make sure to check out Macaroni Co. where the guys behind the counter will help you make your way through the mountains of specialty cheeses (we highly recommend the 5 year aged white cheddar). You can also fill up a bottle of olive oil from the house casks and buy some of the best ciabatta this side of the Apennines. We also recommend Penzeys for your every spice need, Wholeys for mountains of fish and meat and be sure to seek out a peperoni roll.

On the home food front, we gobbled up many delicious home-cooked meals that had quite a bit more variety than our 4 recipe repertoire. A particular favorite was the deliciously delightful champagne cake whipped up for a belated Mother's Day celebration. Mmm... We also had a few wicked backyard BBQs, including some hickory smoked ribs that even Kate had to concede were extraordinarily delectable. And while we had some great conversations over the meals, we also watched some great TV over the meals, like our little Burn Notice marathon leading up the start of the new season.

But when the weather was good - which was most of the time - we set out to get a little exercise by hitting the links. I shot about 20 over par, which I don't think is too bad for my first time out in 8 years or so. And Kate managed to actually make contact with the ball a few times, which is a big step for her. She'll be learning to walk and eat solid food by this time next year.

We also happened to be in Beaver Falls for the annual Memorial Day parade, a slice of Americana that you just don't get outside of the States. Firetrucks, fancy cars, ninjas in training, and high school marching bands complemented war veterans and Shriners in the slow roll down Main Street. And a few days earlier (or later, I can't remember now), we went to the Three Rivers Arts Festival, which, as you might be able to guess, is where folks gather to show off their artwork. A favorite of ours was the (way overpriced) Greg Stone with his accurately titled works, like "Pug, Snowman, Zombie."

But what trip home would be complete without a little consumerism? Kate decided she was done with sharing a laptop with me (she thinks I make the keyboard smell bad) so we started scouring the trusty craigslist ads and within a couple days, we'd located an awesome MacBook for about a third of it's retail price. And that is what I'm using now to write that we'll continue the blog next time with a little excursion down south for some good ol' fashioned confederate action.

Utrecht... 2009

After saying our goodbyes to the Spanish sun, we hopped on a flight up to Amsterdam and headed straight to Utrecht to meet up with the lovely Nicole and Dries, friends of ours via Avi (who studied for a year in Utrecht). They'd welcomed us into their home once before - a year ago exactly, to be, well, exact. Astute readers may recall our post about Queen's Day 2008; well, we had so much fun we decided to come back for more. Day one was spent unwinding and regrouping before the party began on April 29, Queen's Night, with a fairly low key celebration that took us to Eamon's house - another friend, but one we hadn't met before - where we also met up with Erwin - a friend we have met before. Some Guitar Hero and Buzz quiz video games took us through the night before retiring early in preparation for the morrow.

We started the day off right with a flongers before scraping together whatever orange we could find (though I had specifically bought an orange Oktoberfest shirt back in September in preparation for this eventuality) and hustling out to the train station around 1PM. Huge lines, but we got tickets and, luckily, seats on the train. Key, as that allowed us to drink our first beers of the day in relaxed style. Definitely a good start to the day.

Once we arrived in Amsterdam, we promptly commenced with a hardcore wander. See, there seems to be a theme with Queen's Day where the entire day is spent moving from one meeting place to another. We, like the Dude, abided. The only thing is, you gotta surrender to it and just go with the flow, not worrying about anything other than having a good time. So we wandered past the locals hawking anything and everything (Queen's Day is a freemarket day where anyone can sell anything anywhere) to a square with music and food... though it took us quite a while to get to the food (loempia, bapoa, and fries), what with all the beer and dancing. We eventually made it over the Westerpark, which is a pretty cool park that we'd never been to before.

Oh, and before the square and before the park we went to the anti-squat home of a few friends of friends - an anti-squat is set up because in the Netherlands, squatters have lots of rights and it's hard to kick them out of places so owners will rent places extremely cheap if they aren't up to code rather than let squatters move in. This anti-squat was ridiculous. Basically a three storey mansion in the heart of Amsterdam shared by only three people who paid a grand total of €100 a month. Ridiculous.

Anyway, there was much more to Queen's Day than just that but no room for it here. Suffice to say it was awesome and acquainted or reunited us with many of Avi's friends we'd met the year before; in addition to Nicole, Dries, Eamon, and Erwin, there was also Analiese, Karlien, Adam, Barynia, and Matt the Russian, among others. Awesome day.

We spent a few more days just chilling out with Nicole and Dries, not doing much of anything except for relaxing... though we did make it out of the house for a couple physical activities. Like playing basketball at the neighborhood park... against eight year olds. We dominated them with our teamwork and sportsmanship, showing explosiveness and sticktoitiveness like you've never seen before. We also had about three feet on the tallest kid. And after we mopped the floor with their mutilated remains, Dries broke Kate's glasses with a completely benign but completely errant shot that sailed over the hoop and smacked her right in the side of the face. We really can't blame Dries though, it wasn't his fault. But it was just the start of Kate's week of hell... but most of that took place in Arnhem where we went for a few days to get out of Nicole and Dries' hair... but more on that later.

What else did we do with our 10 days in Utrecht? We played a few rounds of Monopoly and Uno, plus a couple other card games, including teaching Dries and Nicole how to play Yanif. We also got a little more exercise in a soccer game where we met up with Nicole's brother (who is living in Utrecht for the year, studying international law) and his friends from school. This was a bit more of a challenge than slaughtering 8 year olds on the B-ball courts, proving to me exactly how out of shape I truly am.

Also on the agenda was a joint birthday party for Nicole and Dries. They'd invited a bunch of friends to a BBQ in the park and invited us to come back from Arnhem for the festivities. Apparently it's actually not legal to have a barbecue ANYWHERE in Utrecht - something we only know because Dries actually asked specifically for this - but we flaunted the law and did it anyway, grilling up such tasty morsels as burgers, Egyptian kebabs (courtesy of Eamon's mother), and chicken wings. Throw in some beers and some monkey-in-the-middle with the soccer ball and you got yourself an awesome day. Especially when it's topped off with Karlien's homemade strawberry cheesecake... so good... and another round of UNO. Of course there were some birthday gifts and Kate and I contributed a birthday/thanks-for-letting-us-bum-around-at-your-place-for-a-couple-weeks present of the board game Carcassone, winner of the prestigious Spiel des Jahres award in 2001. This was a game none of us had ever played before but which turned out to be really, really fun (we got the idea for a board game, incidentally, as there are like 10 shops in Utrecht dedicated solely to board games - just packed floor to ceiling with every game you can imagine). I recommend Carcassonne whole-heartedly... and apparently it gets even better once you get the hang of it a bit more.

Throw in a few wanders into town for some markets and food - including the Italian sandwich stand and the Greek gyro place right next to the Dom - and you've got a pretty good idea of our time in Utrecht. We also finally made inside the Dom church dominating the skyline and marveled at the stark white walls and intricate gravestones within. But really our time in Utrecht was dominated by awesomeness with Nicole and Dries. Thanks again, guys...

Sevilla

After a month of gorging ourselves on Jeannie's cooking, we finally pried ourselves away from the kitchen table, packed up our bags, and hauled ourselves out of bed at 6AM to catch the bus to Sevilla. We ended up leaving the same day as Alan and Mark so Grania, Sam and Jeannie's daughter, drove us all to the bus stop and we hopped on and napped for the hour and a half drive into town. We dropped our bags off at Hostal Nuevo Suizo and headed out again for a full day of sightseeing of the beautiful city of Sevilla as the Scots were only staying one night.

First up was the Alcazar palace, a royal palace - and still the official residence of the Spanish kings and queens in Sevilla - that was begun way back in the 1100s. It was largely built by the Moors and added to by Christian kings over the centuries. The Moors, by the way, were the ones who built all the cool stuff. There are just halls and courtyards and treasuries and gardens... one of the most historically interesting pieces was a painting that has the first graphic depiction of the New World, complete with Columbus and his ships.

One other wee fun fact about the palace was that it was in an earthquake that shook off some beautifully painted tiles; the tiles originally formed a picture but when they fell off, someone just stuck them back on randomly and now it looks like one of those mixed up puzzles with one missing piece where you have to put it back together... We know this because we sprung for the audioguide (3.50) - just one though, which I listened to and then dutifully repeated the info to the others (I would, by the way, recommend getting at least one audioguide if you go as there is a lot of info in them). And another puzzle was outside in the form of a labyrinth, which we all wandered through while trying not to fall asleep in the midday heat, especially since the guards patrol all the benches to make sure no one lies down.

We ate an overpriced picnic lunch picked up from the Opencor supermarket (don't go there - way too expensive but the only thing nearby) in the sprawling Parque de Maria Luisa, then we decided to fight on through the fatigue and head on over to the other main attraction in town - the massive Cathedral. This place is enormous - and is the largest Gothic cathedral in the world. Very dark though. And a little Spanish-Catholic creepy with a bunch of bloody statues and some reliquaries. There also seemed to be a whole warren of hidden little side rooms that led us through the treasuries containing the smaller jewels, as opposed to the giant gilded altar in the middle of the cavernous main hall.

Also part of the cathedral is the Giralda bell tower which does exactly that, towering above the city. It's a bit of a walk to the top... however, it's pretty easy as it's all one ramp. Why, you ask? Because it used to be the mosque's minaret and the muezzin (guy who calls the faithful to prayer) would RIDE HIS HORSE up the ramp to the top every day. I don't know why all towers don't just do away with steps and go with the ramp-thing. So much easier. Anyway, we goofed around up top a bit and snapped some shots of the city below before descending in time to catch a game of footie at a nearby overpriced, but recommended Flaherty's Irish pub. And then it was time to party.

And by party, we mean drink in the hostel room until the wee hours of the morn. We introduced the Scots to Kings - aka Ring of Fire - a game they took to like goats to horns. Or something. We got a little loud and out of control and I must admit I got a little uppity as I was worried our roommates weren't too happy... but the memories - not to mention the photos - were priceless. Unfortunately, we don't have the pictures, but you can see some of them on Mark and Alan's photo blog and I'll leave you with this shot of the four of us taken at the bus station as we bid them goodbye the following morning and settled in for a couple days of just the two of us again.

Honestly, we weren't sure exactly what else to do. We felt a little strange, a little aimless, especially as the big Sevilla sights were already ticked off the list. But we pulled ourselves together and soldiered on, wandering aimlessly around town for a while like we do. We discovered a pretty cool plaza with a bunch of bars and cafes(Plaza del Salvador), got in a fight, and marveled at how this building was unfinished; if you look closely, you can see that they ran out of money or something half-way through and had to leave the second half of the building unadorned and sculpture free. We then went home, had some ramen and beer, and stayed home for a quiet night in.

The next day was our last and that meant back to beating the sightseeing path with a stroll down to the Plaza de Espana, a pavilion erected for the World's Fair in a Sevilla some years ago. Pretty cool, especially all the tiled paintings of Spain's various provinces that ringed the place. We then got some doner at a restaurant called Petra - quite tasty and a welcome change from the steady diet of ham and tapas. We also debated if we should buy the tickets and eventually decided that yes, we're in Spain, we should go to a bullfight.

Which is a bit of a misnomer as there is nothing even remotely resembling a fight here. A closer description would be bull-taunt-and-torture-to-death, but I imagine they rejected that for PR reasons. It's like going to watch a sports game where you already know who's going to win - and where's the fun in that? It's about 15 highly-trained athletes with weapons, horses, and thousands of years of knowledge (not to mention walls to hide behind) against a single scared bull who they have to goad into charging at them because he'd rather just chill out in the sun. Not really that cool. We watched six bulls be killed and the highlight was definitely in the first "fight" when the bull upended a horse and threw one of the matadors. I mean, you really are rooting for the bull to win.

Plus, it's not that comfortable. Granted, we got the cheap seats, but it was packed and there are no aisles. There are also no seats, but rather concrete step-benches where you have to squeeze between someone's knees behind you and have another person squeeze between yours in front. I had to go to the bathroom at one point in between bulls and I had to fight my way over to the stairwell... at which point I realized there were still no aisles and people had stopped moving for me as the next bull was coming out. So I had to jump over the railing and drop about 10 feet down. Insane.

But as uncomfortable as I was, it was nothing to the bulls. I cannot stress enough how little they want to participate. It's not like these are blood-thirsty beasts - these are male cows who just so happen to not like the color red very much. Nor do they like a bunch of guys in funny costumes prancing around and jabbing them with sticks, tiring them out in waves until the lead matador finally makes and appearance and taunts the bull a bit more before driving a sword into the base of his neck. And if he doesn't kill him with that thrust, a helper runs in with a dagger to deliver the death blow. Then they hook chains to the bull's horns and a team of horses drag his body across the arena, smearing his blood in the dirt. Not that cool at all and, while it was definitely an experience, I would encourage people not to support it any longer.

After the bullfight, we returned to the hostel to see if we could round up any troops for our last night in Sevilla - a night which also happened to be the opening night of the Feria de Abril, a huge Oktoberfest-esque festival that goes on for a couple weeks. We ended up setting off alone rather than go out for an expensive dinner with a few guys from the hostel and instead had some carnie food at the Feria, which was, unfortunately, a little disappointing. Definitely no Oktoberfest, though it was a similar set up with a carnival in one part and tents for partying in another part. The main difference was that these tents here were exclusive, invite only affairs, leaving us out in the cold. There were a couple public ones, but they didn't look that cool to be honest so we mostly just walked up and down the rows then went on a roller coaster and made it back to the entrance of the park for the official opening ceremony where they turn on the lights. That was cool... but then we had to literally do battle with the crowds streaming into the place as we were trying to get out. We probably should have stayed as it seemed to just be getting going around midnight with way too many people for just the tents coming in; it was a complete madhouse with everyone pushing and shoving everyone else and Kate was even lifted off her feet by the mob. But we made it out safely and trekked back to the hostel where we got a good night's sleep before bidding hasta luego to Spain, which is, of course, See you later in English, but Boof, done in Scottish patter...

Buen Vino and Aracena

Once we'd finally reached the airport in Mallorca, it was smooth sailing (or flying, whatever) over to Alicante on the mainland. We flew with RyanAir who are usually terrible but this was by far the easiest experience we've ever had with them. Plus, we got one of their ridiculous 1 cent flight deals... with no taxes and fees! To be fair, we did still have to pay some fees, but those were to check our bags as well as to pay with a credit card. Still, once everything was said and done, 20€/person for a flight still ain't bad.

What was, however, was that I started to feel a bit sick on the plane. Nothing too bad and it was still at a pretty low level throughout our layover in Alicante before catching the night bus. But after a couple hours on the bus, the sickness hit harder. The main thing was that gas kept building up in my stomach, making me extremely uncomfortable from the pressure. Alicante before catching the night bus. But after a couple hours on the bus, the sickness hit harder. The main thing was that gas kept building up in my stomach, making me extremely uncomfortable from the pressure. Eventually, it would reach a tipping point and a gigantic belch would issue forth, releasing the pressure. Momentarily. By the time we arrived in Sevilla around 9:30AM, I was pretty well beat and very exhausted, kind of useless for our day wandering around the city as the next bus to Aracena was at 4:30PM.

We finally arrived in Aracena where we were met by Jeannie who took us back to Finca Buen Vino to meet her husband, Sam, their daughter, Grania, and the other helpers: Trent (Australian), Mark, and Alan (both Scottish). I was still a little ill and we were both tired from the overnight bus so we excused ourselves after dinner and went to bed early while the others partied deep into the night.

But we'd get our partying in - oh yes, we would get our partying in.

First off, however, let's talk about the work we did there. Finca Buen Vino is a guesthouse and, as such, we were helping them get ready for the upcoming tourist season. We helped paint a cottage, waxed some tables, cleaned out the pool house, painted hallways, built a fence, cleared an old pool area, stocked firewood, etc... Kate did a lot more painting and weeding than I did - I was occupied with the Scots for a week + building this fence as we had to first dig the holes for the posts, then collect the posts, then hammer them in and fill in the holes with packed earth, then cut down trees for cross bars, then nail those in and secure them with wire. Quite a process, but a beautiful, rustic fence was the reward.

And what did we get out of this arrangement? Well, we got luxurious rooms in the guesthouse. We spent most of our stay in a room in the main house with our own bathroom and views over the property. But after a couple weeks, they had some guests who needed the room so we were moved out to the poolhouse. Not quite as luxurious as it was still under construction and it was a little inconvenient to "commute" to and from... but the views over the pool were unbeatable.

We also got delicious, gourmet food from Jeannie. She cooks a lot for the guesthouse but also prepared two huge meals a day (breakfast was self-service) for us... though when there were hotel guests dining, we got to eat the same food. Some of our favorite meals included the huge crab dinner, the incredible roast pork, the amazing curries, and the various pates. Not to mention the pig's leg they kept in the kitchen. This was jamon iberico, one of the finest types of ham in the world taking 4 years to smoke and cure the leg. Plus, there's a 3 year waiting list for a ham. And they cost €400 each. And they taste delicious.

We kept fairly busy in our off time, thanks mostly to the Scots who kept us quite entertained through their innovative patter. When, that is, we could understand them. We picked up such gems as jobby; big players play in the big games; take a bow, son, take a bow; wee dippy dip; helicopter-daft; and much, much more. Also, these guys were truly sports-daft. They loved every sport out there. Literally. Except for cricket. But outside of that... I mean, these crazy dudes ordered the American sports packages on for their TVs at home. They liked to watch golf. And snooker. And CURLING. I think you get the point.

We also got to play a few sports with them. There were a couple days of soccer down in the fields, but many more days of ridiculous poolside watersports. Like diving headers into the pool. Diving catches into the pool. Diving bicycle kicks into the pool. And other classic Olympic sports. Indeed, you pretty much needed to be an Olympic caliber athlete to compete as the amount of pain suffered by simply getting into that ice-bath we so casually refer to as a "pool" would send lesser mortals wailing for their mums like wee weans (pronounced "waynes"). But how sweet was it to sit out in the baking sun, beer by your side, then get up to juggle the ball a bit, eventually leaping into the pool to get a touch and try to keep the juggling alive... pretty much perfect, if you ask me.

Though, as alluded to previously (see paragraph 4), we did a bit more partying than just the odd poolside beer. And most of the time, Mark ended up naked. The first and most memorable time was after we innocently walked into Aracena for the day, taking a lovely stroll through on a really hot afternoon. We got into town and had planned on going to the caves, but it was Easter weekend and the caves were mobbed by crowds so we decided to go into the center of town and watch the Premiership game at a local bar which was to become our local bar. A few drinks later and we decided to skip the bus home and just walk. Of course, we also decided we needed a few drinks for the two hour walk back, which turned it into a three hour walk back during which time we (read: Alan) lost the cap to our water bottle, Mark ran naked by a field, Kate took a nap in the middle of the road, and I watched as the Scots belted out drinking/football songs at the top of their lungs as we swept through a sleepy town.

Kate also tried to convince Mark and Alan not to jump in a reservoir we passed on the walk... and for some insane reason offered up a deal where we would all jump in the pool back at Finca Buen Vino when we arrived. So we all jumped in the icy water and then returned to the house itself. Jeannie welcomed back the first two through the door (Kate and Alan), saying she was so worried about us and asking if we got caught in the rain because we were so wet. I, meanwhile, was in the kitchen with Mark, trying to convince him to put some clothes on. He, of course, refused, saying that he didn't want to get his clothes wet. So he then walked in, giggling like a schoolgirl, and ran up the stairs as Jeannie deduced behind him, "Oh, you're all pissed and jumped in the pool."

We spent a few other afternoons in Aracena as well, finally making it to the Cave of Wonders (La Gruta de las Maravillas), but most of our time in Aracena was to watch the Semana Santa processions. Semana Santa, or Holy Week, is the week leading up to Easter, celebrated by parading massive floats through the streets. How do you move the floats? With up to 70 men carrying it on their shoulders. A sergeant of sorts calls out the marching beat, alerting the men below - whose vision is completely hidden by drapery - when there is a step up or step down, when to duck and when to lift to get the giant float out of the church. The scenes pictured on the floats are quite gruesome - Jesus on the cross, Mary mourning, soldiers with whips and flails... all the bloody, gory spectacle that Catholics love to remember.

And if the floats didn't grab your attention, the hoods would. The hoods were originally worn by penitents in the middle ages so they could keep their identities secret, but it was co-opted by the KKK as their iconic conehead thing. So with that secondary association in the common mind, it's a bit creepy to see hordes of sinisterly hooded - if well-meaning - townsfolk walking the streets like it ain't no thang. Especially when the super-dramatic, Imperial Deathmarch music is blaring out from the 50-strong town band. It's supposed to be an even bigger deal in Sevilla but we didn't feel like battling the hordes, neither to get a glimpse nor to find a place to stay.

What else? Well, there were the friends and family of Sam and Jeannie who lived in the neighborhood, including wealthy friends whose cousins own the Biltmore, as well as Jeannie's sister and brother-in-law - Henrietta and Sebastian - who built a vacation home next door. They were all lushes, Sebastian in particular - and all definitely characters as well... though I don't think I can repeat any of his hilarious quotes as they aren't appropriate for most readers. I can, however, say that Sebastian told us he once gave the name of his favorite antique shop in Edinburgh as a wedding gift. Just the name, nothing else. And he, of course, wouldn't deign to tell us what it was. Anyway, he and Henrietta invited us over to use their heated pool one afternoon, forcing beers on us whether we wanted them or not. They also came with us one afternoon when Sam and Jeannie took us all to another friend's farm for a picnic. We were thinking we'd sit out on the grass with a few people, some baguettes, maybe a bottle of wine... We ended up going on a huge trek with five other cars onto yet another farm, then hike out to the spot, literally carrying a grandmother in a wheelchair across a river and along some bumpy terrain before we reached the ruins. Pretty fun and very random... though what was even more random was that one of that other farm's helpers was a friend of a friend of mine from high school.

Lastly, I must give an honorable mention to Sam and Jeannie's dog, Bucky. They had two dogs - Maggie being the other one - but Bucky was their favorite despite the fact that she had an incredibly annoying habit of constantly wanting to play fetch with a stone. She never got tired of this game, ever. If you didn't kick or throw the rock, she'd put it on top of your shoe. If you were sitting down, she'd hop up and throw it on your lap. All day, every day. Oh, and she only had one eye after she lost the other in a fight with a CAT. But she was pretty cute at least.

In short, we had a great time at Finca Buen Vino, made some great friends, and even picked up a wee bit of patter in between learning how snooker's played and watching some ridiculous movies, like Crank. In the end, we decided to go to the Netherlands a bit earlier than originally planned so we could be there for Queen's Day... but not before a couple days in Sevilla with Alan and Mark...

Oh, and one more thing... if you want any more pictures, feel free to check out Mark and Alan's photo blog here.