This one time, at summer camp...

Where did the month of May go? I've been jumping from one event to the next, without much space inbetween. First, the issue with my dad. As soon as that issue settled, Álvaro and I were off on our road trip. I returned on Monday and went to an interview for a potential summer job. That Friday I was packed in a car with four other strangers, driving back up north to meet the other camp counselors. Looks like I have summer plans.

Assuming all goes well (and considering this is Spain, an employment contract guarantees absolutely nothing. I consider myself employed when I have arrived on-site and actually started working), I will have a summer job as an English camp counselor.

On the 10th of May (Ah jeez, has it really been almost two weeks?) I arrived in Molino de Butrera for a weekend job orientation. The camp is located in the north of Burgos. In fact, it was so far north that we were practically in Santander. The downside? It was freezing. I had missed out on a gloriously sunny weekend in Madrid (as soon as I returned the temperature dropped and it rained all week) in exchange for a high of 10ºC (50ºF) and persistently cloudy skies. Thankfully, the location made up for the gloomy weather. It was beautiful! It looked like a "real" summer camp, with wood cabins settled against a green hill. I was also quite surprised to find that I was only one of three native English speakers at the camp. To be fair, they did warn us that we'd need a decent level of Spanish.

The weekend essentially consisted of trial-runs of camp activites and get-to-know-you games. As I've never worked at a summer camp, I'm not sure how many bother to bring the counselors to the campsite a month in advance, but it certainly motivated me to return in the summer. It was an intensive weekend, waking up at 8 AM and playing games until 1 or 2 AM. I had no phone and no internet--I was completely disconnected from the outside world. On Sunday, I returned to Madrid feeling grungy and exhausted, but hoping to return.

The downside? Between the May holiday and this trip, I needed a solid week of recovery. I think I'm finally starting to feel like a human being again.

May Puente

Note: Pictures to come when I get around to uploading them from my camera
PICTURES ARE UP!

Now that the gloom has hopefully passed, it's back to writing about fun things (Edit: Nope, it's going to rain forever). May 1st was the last long weekend before the end of the school year in June. We had two days of school (why even bother?) before a five (!!) day weekend. Álvaro also had time off, and he wanted to take advantage and travel.

As I had mentioned here, we had previously purchased a Groupon for a wine tasting in La Rioja. Our holiday travel plans started there. We made our reservation for Saturday afternoon. The trip expanded from there. Since we've got all this time, and we're already up north, why don't we visit a few more places? It began with Bilbao. Then we added Santander to the list. We made our hotel reservations the night before we departed (the incident with my dad had left me in no mood to make travel plans).

In the end, we went to eight cities, spanning about 6 autonomous communities. 

The trip

Thursday, May 2nd: Burgos and Santander

In keeping with the "we planned this trip last-minute" theme, I packed my back the morning-of. We left around noon, because Álvaro isn't one for early starts. We arrived in Burgos around two hours later, and spent a good chunk of time trying to find the tourism office for maps and suggestions. Surprise! It was closed. Thankfully, due to our late arrival, we seemed to have missed the rain that had recently passed through the city. We visited the cathedral, which was originally constructed during 1221 (thanks Wikipedia) and rebuilt to accommodate the growing city's needs. 

Around 6 PM we left the city and drove up north to Santander. The drive was beautiful. Everything was green and hilly, and we passed sheep and horses grazing. We arrived in Santander by nightfall, so we couldn't see much of the city.

Friday, May 3rd: Santander and Bilbao

We spent a few hours in Santander to see the city during the day. The weather was awful. It was grey, humid and cold. There was a perpetual drizzle that made it hard to want to leave the car. The city itself isn't particularly impressive. I'm sure its a fine place to live, but not not so great for tourism. I would rather explore the smaller pueblos we passed in Cantabria. Oh well--next time.

Next: Bilbao. We arrived in the early afternoon, just as the sun was coming out. The weather was mild. Bilbao is a beautiful city, nestled among green hills. We spent most of our time at the Guggenheim museum. This was definitely the highlight of my trip.

Saturday, May 4th: Vitoria-Gasteiz, Logroño, Alfaro, Aldeanueva de Ebro

After quickly grabbing a coffee and saying our farewells to Bilbao, we made our way back south.

Álvaro and his handy-dandy travel guide

We wanted to see a bit more of Pais Vasco (Basque country), so we made a quick stop for lunch in Vitoria and wandered around the city.

Nothing says "old city" like a moving walkway.

Then, another long car ride, with a 15 minute stop in Logroño.

Camino de Santiago

We had to be in Alfaro (an hour south) by six for the wine tasting. We arrived five minutes late. The wine tasting (around which this whole trip was organized) lasted only an hour.

The winery was technically in Navarra, not La Rioja. Oh, the inhumanity.

Coincidentally, Álvaro's coworker was in a neighboring village with his wife, and they invited us to a get-together.

No photos here, sorry.

Sunday, May 5th: Zaragoza and home again
I don't like travelling late on Sundays. I prefer to relax and have time to unwind before returning to work. I would have prefered to go straight home and watch TV, but Álvaro was determined to make the most of this trip (for which I am thankful). So, we made our final detour in Zaragoza.

Honestly, I feel like this post is fairly boring, despite having been to so many places. Going from one city to another in a short time span doesn't exactly lend itself to nuanced experiences. You see an interesting thing, take a picture, and move on to the next interesting thing. One week later and the trip has become a blur of cathedrals and grey skies. Also, I have since returned to Burgos (that'll be my next post) and I am very, very tired. I no good at English no more.

We now return to our regularly scheduled programming

I've been trying to find a way to explain my last blog entry, while maintaining some privacy. I haven't even really spoken about it to anyone other than family, but here it is splashed on the Internet. Sometimes I forget that this thing is public, and that anyone can read it. Or, more accurately, I just assume that only a small handful of people have weasled their way to this corner of the internet.

Last Sunday (before my previous blog post) I received some bad news. Actually, bad news doesn't begin to describe it. I thought my dad was dying. As you can imagine, I reacted as well as any 24 year old would in the situation. I was overwhelmed. I still have trouble putting into words exactly how I felt. After waiting a year and a half to return to Spain, do I abandon my job and my future with Álvaro? Or do I miss out on what could potentially be the last moments with my dad?

Thankfully, it looks like it may have been a false alarm. The moral of the story: don't self-diagnose, even if you have previous medical experience. I'm just glad my dad isn't about to become the next Walter White.

Exhibit A: "Heisenberg"

Exhibit B: My dad

Provided that all goes well, I should be returning to Spain the following year. Back to normal.