There’s no use crying over spilt milk.
(But there is use crying over losing an EIGHT HUNDRED WORD blog post when your computer decides to crash… Yes, I’m writing this for the second time.)
Anyway, this weekend there have been puddles and puddles of spilt milk.
It all started on Friday morning, MC and I had stayed out a little late (ahem 5 a.m. just tryin’ to live like the Spaniards) and had our alarms and our minds set on taking a 9 a.m. bus to Ronda. So we woke up, showered, and started trekking along to the road that we thought our bus would be waiting on. No bus. We asked several bus drivers if there were headed to Ronda and they all treated us like stupid americans- because in this moment I suppose we were.
Soon enough it was 9:15 and we were still bus-less, confused, and frustrated. We retreated to the center to get some *wifi* and do a little internet digging. We found out that the bus station was an actual building/station. Go figure. And we bought another 11 euro ticket for 11 a.m.
TAKE TWO! We boarded an bus that honestly smelled even sketchier than it looked, and arrived in Ronda around 1 p.m. The first thing we noticed when we unloaded the bus was that the usually sunny and hot Spanish climate was in a windy, cloudy, and even rainy mood. In the hectic morning rush, Mary Carson and I had failed to check the weather- and we were painfully unprepared in our tank tops. Faced with these pressing issues, we did the only thing we knew how to do…
We activated full-on tourist mode. We followed bright yellow signs all the way to the tourist information center where we received oversized maps and asked the man at the counter where we could buy warmer clothes. We were basically forced to go shopping (sorry mom, had no choice ;)), but with our new sweaters and scarves we were ready to face the day.
The moral of Friday’s story was that having the chance to explore this beautiful place was so worth all of the struggles that we endured to get there. Ronda was unlike anything I’ve ever seen before- and made me wonder what other gorgeous places there are in the world that I am unaware of. I’m excited to find out.
As the weekend went on, the milk just kept spilling. Our host mother, Blanca, invited us to spend Saturday at “el campo” a.k.a. their country home (horses included)… When we woke up on Saturday we had a text from Blanca informing us that her husband had been in a biking accident and instead of the campo, they were headed to the hospital 😦
It was a good thing that we had a Plan B. Mary Carson and I spent the day doing a plethora of the most random Seville activities. The day consisted of buying a kilo of plums (that’s 15 plums, people) and a carton of strawberries for only THREE EUROS, going to the aquarium, climbing the Torre de Oro and ending with a movie night.
As Sunday approached, things were really looking up. My friend Helen and I had decided to board a train and spend the afternoon in Cadiz, a beach town in the south of Spain. We took taxis to the station and politely asked the man behind the counter for “two billetes a Cadiz.” “No,” he said. “No?” we said. “No hay billetes.”
WHAT? Who were these 135 people that took our spots on the train? This was unheard of. We turned to the large board glowing with foreign city names and after a few failed attempts at looking for a new destination, we settled on taking a bus to a field of sunflowers in a small town nearby.
Thankfully, Helen led the way because she had done this a few weeks before. We hopped on a slightly scary city bus that dropped us off in a small town called Valencina. We hiked down the road to the massive field of sunflowers only to find that their season had ended. 90% of the flowers looked sad, they hung their heads in exhaustion from the summer heat.
It was tragic. And I laughed. Helen proceeded to comment on my “sunny” personality which I attributed to being born in the midwest.
In a cliche: life is always going to give you lemons and spill your milk- especially when you’re living abroad. You’re always going to find a bump in the road or a mountain to climb and in both cases there’s just no reason to become upset. In my time here I have been shaped into a more optimistic and easygoing person, I have learned to face life’s hiccups and accept my own disabilities.
I guess when God gives you a field of wilted flowers you gotta search for the survivors and make yourself a beautiful little bouquet.
Thank you so much for reading, stay tuned for the arrival of my mom and aunt in just two short days (!!!!!!!) *Jane in Spain*