Collserola: In search of snow

If I've learnt one thing since coming back after Christmas it would be that somewhere along the way I have somehow got my stereotypes wrong and that Spain is not always hot. This morning I was told it had snowed, and true enough Jooking out the window there was indeed a small bit of snow, but not enough for English standards. Monica, Ingrid and I therefore went in search of snow up Colserola, one of the mountains that circle Barcelona and sure enough we found some! The views from up the mountain were beautiful, other mountains dotted with houses, a blur of greenery and the white of the melting snow, and the noise of the snow raining down off the trees as it melted.

Crossing the bridge from the small station in Les Planes we walked through the most amazing barbeque smells. Just before we got to a small unstable looking bridge over a little stream we found picnic tables set up in neat rows, iced with snow and bordered by a line of orderly barbeques that had been lit ready for use. It was still early for lunch, but a couple of small groups were already chatting, cooking their 'calçots', playing guitars and getting the rest of their picnics ready.

Soon Catalans will be celebrating the 'calçoltada': a big spring onion party where you barbeque long spring onions and then eat then by peeling them and then lowering them into your mouth. That's what I've been led to believe, but I'm quite excited to go to one of the parties to find out for myself!!

“Come now, let us settle the matter,”
 says the Lord.


“Though your sins are like scarlet,
    

they shall be as white as snow;


though they are red as crimson,
   

they shall be like wool.

- Isaiah 1:18

February

Cornellà

Barcelona from Park Guell

Park Guell

Barceloneta

Photos ©Rachael Berry

Cumplo 21.

Valentine's day evening and I was waiting to cross the road to the other side of Plaza España to meet Sam. It was my birthday and I was late. I'm English, I hate being late. He's Spanish and he was on time.  Having spent the day between friends, university speaking to family, I was now just enjoying Barcelona. I hadn't planned anything special for the evening, just going to a student group run by my church here. As we walked up away from Plaza España and up Montjuïc, one of the mountains that surrounds Barcelona, Sam told me that the group was starting later because it was Valentine's day.

I truly dislike being late so when I was told this I was sceptical, but after some persuading and due to the fact my phone had run out of battery I accepted it. When we arrived the everyone was already there; we turned up to a room full of all my friends, and my sister in the middle! I had no idea about the party and no idea Hannah was coming!! You guys are amazing! I thank God for my amazing friends and family, both here and at home! I had such a lovely birthday..

Thank you to everyone who made it so special!! 

A quien madruga Dios le ayuda

University has started again which means queuing up, trying to sort out modules and settling into new classes. To my delight, the trees in the courtyard of uni are full of orange dots: it's satsuma season! Apparently in summer they have to put barriers up under the trees beacuse the when the satsumas/manderines fall they could hurt people. Apart from the excitement that we have orange trees in my university and palm trees right outside (something that makes a part of me feel like I'm continuously on holiday), one of the great things about being on erasmus is that huge range of subject we can choose from. This year I've been able to try things I wouldn't be allowed to in England, where we follow the modules that make up our degree with little flexibility outside our speciality.

Orange trees at Uni

I'm the only erasmus student in my Biblical Hebrew class. The class is small, but the subject is obligatory for those studying arabic and hebrew, so the teacher started the class by asking who was studying which language. He then looked at me, the only one who hadn't raised their hand: "...And you, what do you study?" "I'm erasmus" "Oh, you're here for fun?". He asked me my name and smiled as "Rachael" (or Raquel as I said) comes from Hebrew. Changing the subject onto himself, office hours and how we could contact him outside of class, our teacher was then quick to point out that the name that had appeared on the list of modules - Magdalena - was his surname and not his first name, as it's a girl's name. I think it's funny because, although I guess the origin of the name is probably more serious (Mary Magdalene in the Bible perhaps), here magdalenas are cupcakes.

Gardens at Uni

Mad Capital

Portes Obertes: Ajuntament

A kitchen in Madrid

I never know what to expect from a hostel, but I have to say that when we paid 10 euros per night for a bed in a 12 bed dorm in pretty central hostel, my hopes weren't that high. Four nights later, it's our last night in Madrid and I'm leaving impressed.

Not only have we got free breakfast each day, linen included and hairdryers and internet but we've also met lots of interesting people here. The crazy swiss girls who like clubbing, the girl from London looking for a flat, the Slovenian mother, the Canadian girl who's backpacking around Europe on her own, some Australians, a Guatemalan and a Puerto Rican. The Californian boy who let us try some cheese he'd made earlier, and some red pepper humus he'd made up the recipe for. The friendly Roman who cooks huge quantities of food to share with whoever was in the kitchen so we've got to try pear and onion risotto, salmon, mashed potato and chicken with a vegetable sauce. (Don't worry, I'm still a vegetarian - Allie tried the meat.)

Allie and I are currently cooking our last evening meal and the kitchen is bubbling with people: our Italian friend Alex, who lives in Indonesia but is currently travelling around Europe to compete in surfing competitions is skateboarding around the kitchen. The boy from the Isle of Wight is ironing a shirt on the table: he's starting his new job tomorrow and his notebooks are strawn across the table, covered in his lesson plans written out neatly as he prepares to teach English to various business clients from Madrid, and the quiet Mexican guy is sorting out his boxes and instruments, getting ready.

The Mexican is a professional tattoo artist.
The receptionist is getting a tattoo.
So's the girl from Perugia.

6 hours in Toledo

Atocha train station is in the Madrid guidebooks for having its own botanical gardens, so we had a quick nosey around the garden before going through security. 28 minutes and a high speed train later and we were in the outskirts of Toledo, 74 kilometres away from Madrid, once the capital of Spain, famous for marzipan, swords and it's school of translators. The station itself was impressive, with a small garden of palm trees and the station in what once must have been a church, with beautiful mosaic tile work on the walls and the floor, and big stained glass windows.

We got the bus up the hill, sat down for coffee and planned an itinerary to go round the main sights including a mosque, synagogue, the cathedral and the alcázar (fortress), which together reflected the variety of culture heritage of the city - (Moorish invasion of Spain 711-1492). The architecture was a beautiful mix of european and arabesque and it was really peaceful walking up and down the small, narrow, cobbled streets wrapped up warm to protect ourselves from the freezing cold and the wind: the views were stunning...

campo de cebada

Open mike guitar concert on a Sunday morning...

Reina Sofia

Love being a student and getting into museums for free.