I’m in Spain. And I really hate flan. 

As I continue my travels, enjoying the spoils of the western world (you know, toilets with actual bowls, sidewalks, people that aren’t amazed that I am showing some knee), I find that it is getting harder and harder to keep up with posting anything that seems substantive. Indeed, we have crammed so much sangria -no wait, I really mean culture- into the past couple of days here that I have reached saturation point.  I don’t know what I am looking at anymore when I stumble into wicked old constructions and try to numbly gaze at the intricate detailing. 

I think it’s the heat, because I do recognize that I have been privileged to see all of these things on my trip.

So we went to Córdoba.  I’m too lazy to post a map of where this is, so look it up yo self.  I will say that we stayed in the historical part of the city, right next to la mezquita (it started off as a cathedral in 600AD, became a mosque, then became a cathedral again). Córdoba is rich with history- especially in how it sort of spanned the bridge between Islam and Christianity. But I’m not really going to tell you about that right now. In the interest of time (mine, particularly), I will say that it is a very “quaint” town- meaning that there are tons of tiny winding roads that really form a maddeningly impressive labyrinth when you are trying to go anywhere. Direct routes are the exception to the rule. So with that in mind we parked outside of the old city walls and then spent a half hour on foot in the hot sun, trying to find our hotel’s location.  

Do you know where this is going?

Yeah, our hotel wasn’t just across from the huge cathedral, as advertised on their website. It was also right next to the Burger King. That information would have been far more useful to me as I was asking people for directions (again) in my crappy Spanish.

Cultural stop number one, after we dropped our bags and ran to the patios before closing time. Through the sweat streaming down my face, I could take in most of its beauty.

This was also taken in the tour of the patios, but I wanted it to be a pool. There is no water inside. I don’t want to know what it was supposed to be holding. 

The heat is really evil in Spain come midday- and the Spanish are sane enough to take a siesta through the hottest hours. The dumb Americans that show up midday and only have 36 hours to tour a city, well they must go out and see the sites as if they are walking into a hair dryer.

So we went to the cathedral next.  It was beautiful. Here are some pictures.

I’m learning to cling to the shadows cast in this country.

This grandeur of this mosque/cathedral is too big to cover in photos. 

Across the tower bridge.

Okay, so that’s probably the worst depiction of Córdoba that an American could provide you, my dear reader. I recognize this fact, and I will also out myself and tell you that I am currently blogging from a McDonald’s in the Barcelona train station.  

Blasphemy! Right?  Yeah, I never eat at McDonald’s, but the pull of free wi-fi and three hours to kill before I catch my train to Pamplona definitely reeled me in. I kind of like how this entry started off with Burger King, and has ended with McDonald’s.  I guess that you really can’t take the America out of the girl.

P.S.

I have great ambitions to post stuff from yesterday, which entailed a whirlwind tour of Sevilla (yes, I guarantee my reporting will be worse than that from Córdoba), as well as me almost running out of gas as I drove across the country listening to Pink Floyd’s ‘Money’.  Even more exciting will be my experience of watching Spain win the World Cup Final!  Great times were had yesterday- I still feel like it was all a dream.

Hopefully I will get to all of that, but with Pamplona on the horizon, it might take some time.