Hit List Spain

Tan (or burn): beaches of the Costa del Sol. Hey, at least you won't be the only one: these beautiful beaches are packed with lobster red British ex-pats. Bring sunscreen. You might make some new friends if you share!

Photograph: Ronda. This white village nestled in between a gorge is a photowhore's paradise.

Listen: Spanish accents. A bit tough to understand with prominent lisp, Spain's Spanish is still sonorous.

Sip: sangria, especially on terraces, porches, outside pools, and really anywhere outside. As you're enjoying Spanish style late dinners (or maybe even breakfast and lunches), get your fill of this fruity drink!

Swim (with the fishes!): Barcelona's Aquarium. The Aquarium boasts a huge fish tanks visitors can walk through, complete with sharks, sting rays, eels, and turtles! Oh my!

Raid: Zara. Spain's famous chain, Zara seems to have stores on every corner. A better quality H&M, Zara's best to hit to in July and August when sales make the prices comparable to H&M.

Tour: Madrid's Moorish and royal quarters. Get a guidebook and follow the suggested itinerary. It's truly the best way to immerse yourself in Madrid's storied history.

Portugal Hit List

Devour: pasteis de nata, the traditional Lisbon pastry. Get the original at Antigua Confeitaria de Belém. Make sure to douse it in cinnamon.

Groove: Lux, Lisbon's most stylish nightclub. For lounging, get a drink and grab a couch upstairs, If you're in the mood to dance the night away (I really can't figure out when Lux actually closes), head downstairs.

Sleep (please, don't snore!): Oasis Backpacker's Mansion. Right in the ever-hippening neighborhood of Santa Catarina, Oasis certainly merits its ratings as one of Europe's top hostels. Euro inspired Ikea chic, cheap Portuguese meals and a bevy of well travelled guests make it an incredible deal for 15 euro a night.

Hike: Castelo de São Jorge. Once you climb up to the top of Lisbon's castle, you'll be rewarded with 360* views of the city.

Roadtrip: Sintra. The most picturesque village in Portugal, Sintra boasts castles and pastries galore. 

Window shop: Bairro Alto's stores at night. This neighborhood is certainly not asleep at night and neither are its shops! 

Hop on: 28 tram. For 1.40 euro, the Lisbon Metro takes you on a tour of the city's winding streets as the 28 swerves past many major attractions. 

Haggle: Thieves' Market. Clothes, bags, shoes, jewelry, antiques, books, and CDs... what isn't for sale at this market?!

Adios Lisbon

Eager to make the most of my last day (and unable to sleep thanks to nearby snoring Germans, I woke up early and took the train to the coastal town of Cascais (Cash-cay). I was going to rent one of the free municipal bikes but I lazily just wandered aimlessly, read at a cafe and cooled off my poor burnt feet in the Atlantic. I've been so excited to eat some of the Senegalese/Cape Verdean good in Lisbon but I stupidly saved my treat for Sunday. Every one of the tiny restaurants I miraculously found was closed. Disappointed and starving, I scarfed down a brie and bacon baguette and packed and napped. It was a quiet, sangria-filled last night at the Oasis.

I attempt to make a steal at the Thieves' Market

I slept in late this morning but got up in time for Lisbon's infamous Thieves' Market. With the Aussies and Canadians, I took the trusty 28 tram to the huge, boisterous market. Staying true to its name, this place seriously is full of stolen goods - mostly 90s tee shirts. I found a silver chain that can be wound in a million different ways. We tried to find the tile museum, but instead wandered around in the impossible heat for four hours. Miraculously, we found our way home. Lisbon grocery stores are unbelievably cheap: I got wine, fruit, and, of course, Coca Cola Light, for under two euros. After dinner, everyone hung out on the patio for a bit. We went to the Bairro Alto later. It would have been nothing more than a fun evening out except... Hungry, we somehow found a bakery in a seemingly abandoned building. There was a bouncer outside, which seemed weird, and when we gathered outside to devour pastries, we realized that two of the girls were stuck inside. In Lisbon, it's illegal to sell bread after midnight and the cops were outside the bakery. So the poor girls were held hostage inside a bakery. All for the sake of a (delicious) pastry.

A long walk in the heat

After a refreshing two hours of sleep, I woke up and left the hostel at nine, bound for Belem. Undetered by the fact that Belem doesn't make all of my maps, I thought I would have a nice morning walk to get one of the famous Lisboa custard tarts. I am now intimately familiar with industrial Lisbon.

Two days (hours) later, when I finally arrived at Antigua Confereteria de Lisboa, I found a huge cafe packed with people. After intimidating a group of Japanese tourists, I found a table and had the best pastry ever: a warm custard tart, covered in powdered sugar and cinnamon. Delicious.

Next up was the medieval monastery, possibly one of the most beautiful buildings in Lisbon. I took the tram to the Museu National de Antigua, Portugal's national museum and wandered around. Off to the Tile Museum now!

Castles

I woke up early today to head to Sintra, the ancient town 40 minutes north of Lisbon. I was extremely excited because Sinta is home to several castles, and as I dream of someday becoming royalty, I love castles.

The town is charming, full of windy, cobblestone streets. I wandered around for a bit before heading into the first castle, which was one of the first castles of Portuguese royalty. The other castle I really wanted to see is at the top of the mountain and is an old Muslim ruin. I hiked up the hill (not easy when wearing sandals on cobblestone) and explored the old ruins, which give a 360* view of the surrounding area.

After reading outside for a bit, relaxing from my hike, I took the train back to Lisbon. I walked through the city to the ancient Castle ruins and then saw Se Cathedral.

I had traditional Portuguese chicken in chili sauce (piri piri) for dinner then went out with the hostelites. We went to one of the clubs along the wharf called Lux, full of the trendiest Portuguese and not properly attired American/Canadian/Australian bunch. The Portuguese stay out as late - the club hadn't even closed yet when we left at 5:30am!

Lisboa

It is hot. Very hot. Sitting in a pleather chair in an internet cafe with computers from 1999 doesn't help with the heat...



After arriving in Lisbon at about nine, I attempted to follow the hostel's directions. Unfortunately, I got off the bus approxiamately twenty minutes before I should have and then got lost in the metro system (why why why are the tracks on the wrong side of the platform?!). I finally found the Oasis Backpacker's Mansion in the bustling Bairro Alto quarter. It sits at the bottom of a windy little street off the main boulevard in its neighborhood. The yellow outside matches the Ikea inspired inside. It is by far the chicest hostel I've ever stayed in.



I left the hostel and wandered around the city for a couple of hours. The 28 tram line goes all around the city and after mistakenly getting off several times, I got a fabulous ride through the city for what should have been €1.40. Lisbon is hilly and charming and very much an Old World country. The sidewalk is all cobblestone, which is slippery but beautiful. If the old Portuguese ladies can do it, I can!

This afternoon, I was too hot to do anything but nap. I met several other people who were feeling the same way! Tonight is dinner cooked by a Portuguese mom and then going out in the Bairro Alto with the hostel.

Last day

Today was the last day of the Johnson plus Hart vacation.

In keeping with the spirit of our vacation, we started off the day separately (actually, we're all getting along well despite the horribly hot weather). Carl, Brendan, and Joan left for the Picasso museum while Steve, Cate, and I took the metro to the Catalyan art museum in Montjuic. We saw an exhibition of war photographer Robert Caro's work. His coverage of the Spanish Civil War in the late 1930s and D-Day is remarkable.

We met up at la Boqueria, which may or may not be the largest open-air market in Europe, for lunch. Brendan's excellent Spanish got us fresh baguettes, apples, nuts, and, our favorite, Manchengo cheese. We wandered around the grounds of the University of Barcelona and then took the Metro to Segrada Familia, Gaudi's Catholic creation. We like the back, with its bunches of fruit and unfinished left side, better than the front, which has an unappealing 1960s feel.

Then it was back to the Hostal Goya to pack. We left the Hostal and ambled down to the Barri Gothic for delicious tapas and ice cream. Good food and great conversation made for a lovely last night!

Montserrat

Some writer or philosopher at some point said something emblematic of Montserrat that I cannot remember nor find on Google Portugal, but it is amazing.

We left Hostal Goya early this morning to get the best/most sugary breakfast ever near Espanya station: churros and chocolate. Nursing sugar headaches, we took the one hour train to Montserrat. It was perhaps the most beautiful train ride I've ever taken, Carl, passing warehouses, shanty houses, and muddy rivers.

Once we got to Montserrat, we took big yellow gondolas up to the monastery. The view of Catalonia is, excuse the cliche, breathtaking. The monastery is nestled in between monstrous mountains whose shape changes constantly as weather erodes them. We took audio tours of Montserrat and saw the famed Black Virgin, the Basilica, the Boys' School, and, most importantly, the beer dispenser/cafeteria, where we got beer (and lunch.)

We split up after arriving back in Barca, with Steve, Carl, and Brendan shopping as Joan, Cate, and I went to the aquarium. The aquarium is no Academy of Science, but it does have an underwater tunnel that takes you through the shark tank. Cate and I just about died.

We stopped for delicious tapas of Bikini (melted ham and cheese) sandwhiches and hummus and pita and then meet up with the boyz for dinner. Brendan and I went out for drinks and desserts at 11, crazy partyers that we are. Mojitos and chocolate volcano cake do not mix.

Adios Costa del Sol!

Today we left our Finca Tranquila. Graced with the presence of the ever so chatty house manager Joe who took an hour to say goodbye and collect the trash, we packed and left for the airport. The Malaga airport, like Malaga itself, is packed with very red (real sun) or very orange (fake tan) British people.

Our Vueling (in Catalan: welling) flight got us to Barcelona in the late afternoon. The Hostal Goya is a fabulous place. The interior is Ikea inspired and very chic. An excellent place to stay especially because it's convienently located near all the major areas. After a bit of exploring, we grabbed dinner at a nearby tapas place. Lots of delicious food. I think our new favorite Spanish treat might be potates bravas.

A thoroughly Spanish day

Today, more than ever, I felt like a lobster red British ex-pat vacationing in the Costa del Sol.

We drove to the very chic Ronda this morning, starting off at a Moroccan Market. Cate and Joan found fabulous jewelry and I got a wicker grocery bag. Starving, we headed off for a late Spanish lunch. We seem to have gotten to the restaurant just in time as it soon filled up with loud Spaniards inhaling paella and wine (just like us!). After a delicious lunch (enjoyed especially by Carl, who ordered steak rather than fish and chips, per Steve's gentle coaxing), we had drinks and a tanning sesh on the beach. We stopped at the Mercadona for sangria supplies and a relaxing last night in the Costa del Sol.

Granada! Oh, and we hit a car.

Lured with warm chocolate croissants and the promise of coffee, we woke up to Joan's stirring at the ungodly hour of 6am. We were, however, on our way to a very celestial palace: the Alhambra.

The Alhambra is the most magnificent example of Islamic architecture. It's a Muslim fortress/castle that became a Christian palace, dilapidated over the years, housed Washington Irving (who, unfortunately, wrote a chronicle of his time there which, annoyingly, is the narration of the audio guide), became to captivate tourists and historians, and is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site and one of Spain's top tourist destinations. This is evidenced in the fact that at 9am on a very hot Thursday in August, there was a line winding and winding and winding through the grounds, full of visitors who seemed to be more than willing to wait for hours to get into the palace.

But it's absolutely worth it. I think pictures will suffice...

Additionally, we hit a car today. Whilst looking in vain for street signs, searching for friendly pedestrians, attempting to locate ourselves on our awful maps, fighting, being confused, suffering from the lack of air conditioning in the back of the car (that was just Cate and me, everyone else seemed to get a nice breeze), and basically just being utterly LOST, we ran into a government car. There were no ramifications, literally or metaphorically.

Some of us go to Africa, some of us see Africa

Somewhere beteween teh Finca weehours of 5am and 7am, our most valued comparion, Carl, went to Africa. Seriously.

Off he drove in his "Po" (known to VW as the "Polo") to Algeciras, the Spanish port providing gerried to Morroco. He planned (even earlier this morning) to spend his day touring Tangier's many museums, historical sites, and other points of culutral interest (ahem, bars). We hope he comes back soon.

As for the Johnsons, today we remained on the Continent. After a lazy breakfast, we left the Finca at noon for a gold course and the beach. We drove to Fuengirola (Fu-en-gear-oh-la), past Marbella (Mar-bey-ay). It's somewhat surprising we aren't stayind in Marbella as it's the posh resort town for Britain's elite and select trashy Americans (Britney just left). Brendan and Joan went golfing. Steve, Cate, and I tanned, swam in the Med without fearing for sharks, and read Hello UK whilst sipping Coocacoola Li-eghts. It was an ideal afternoon.

After we met up, we went to Gibraltar in an effort to outdo Carl. We SAW Africa! Gibraltar is a massive rock, totally sheer. There's nothing in the town but we really did see Africa - huge mountains rising up through the steamy Mediterranean mists. Driving home with petrol station gas and snacks, we decided we can't wait for someone to ask us how many continents we've seen.

Coin

The Johnsons plus Chart have arrived at the lovely Finca Tranquila in Coin.

Driving along the very long highway from the coast inland to our casa, we mistakenly picked out many beautiful homes we thought might be our Finca. Our Finca, however, is impossible to spot from the road. Perhaps because it isn´t on a road. Rather, it is at the end of a one lane dirt path after a very steep hill (hell?) which we must walk up because our trusty little rental car can´t quite manage the climb. The Finca itself makes up for the trouble of getting to it...

More descriptions, backlogged blogs and pictures coming soon! Must be off to explore Coin.

Africa, from a distance

Today we attempted to see Africa. Driving to Ojen, a town perched in a gorge, reputed to boast views of the Morrocan coast, we (thanks to Steve, Joan, and Carl's blatant desire for coffee) instead prematurely stopped at a three star eco hotel. From its balcony, we pretended to see Africa through the considerable haze. We left for Mijas, a fancier Santa Cruz, full overly decorated and certainly overburdened burros and their chain smoking drivers who encourage British children to go for rides, leather goods stores of imitation bags, awesome views of the Costa del Sol, and perhaps most importantly, cafes stocked with ice cold Cruzcampo. We came back to swim after stopping at Mercadona (the Spanish safeway) for a night of beers, burgers, and ice tea for Cate.

Exploring Coin

Although the Finca doesn't have an address, it is located in Coin, so this morning we decided to explore our little city. Coin is hilly and, though not as picturesque as some of the other villages, still charming. Brendan and I found an Internet cafe while the family explored. We finished after 30 minutes and €0.43 to find them on the square, having been waiting for us for 20 minutes. Despite its seeming lack of activity, Coin is clearly home to many finca tranquilas.

We came home for a late lunch and quick swim before driving to Ronda, a white village hailed as the most beautiful town in Andalucia. It's no wonder, really, because Ronda is somehow perched over a seemingly infinite gorge. There's not as much to do in Ronda as there is to see. High up in town, the view could be straight out of Lord of the Rings. In the old Muslim quarter, Joan was excited to see the Cathedral. Carl bravely entered for several minutes, too. Everyone was happy to find a cute little cafe for drinks and tapas before we headed home.