waynehazle

Well it took a million years but I finally finished adding all the pictures to my Spain site. I also wrote my trip report.

In May my wife and I went to Spain in honor of our 5th anniversary. In one week we went to Madrid, Seville, Cordoba and Granada (yes, I know...)

Anyway, the site is www.waynehazle.com/spain/

Please let me know if the site works for you. If you have time you can download <b><font color="purple">The Hazle Journal: Spain</font></b>, my trip report in PDF.

Otherwise I will be posting excerpts in the next several days.

kja

Thanks for posting, waynehazle - your pictures brought back some wonderful memories!

annesherrod

Happy anniversary!

My husband and I did almost the identical trip back in Feb. My purse with names of restaurants and notes was stolen so I could never do a trip report.

Glad to read yours!

chicagolori

Very nice!! You look so happy in your pictures. Thanks for posting.

waynehazle

Here are some excerpts from the Hazle Journal which I distribute mostly to friends and family. It is part trip report, part catch up on my life. So you may learn more about me than you ever wanted to. The color PDF version with photos is at waynehazle.com / spain

<b><font color="GREEN">Editor’s Desk </font></b>

Hello again my Friends! I can’t believe it has been nearly two years since the last Journal. For the newly initiated, this is a record of our travels, part madcap travel journal, part book report, part nonsensical ramblings.


I will begin at the end; Spain is a beautiful country, with lovely and hospitable people. Mary Ellen and I saw amazing sites and more importantly spent wonderful time together in commemoration of our fifth wedding anniversary.

We hope you enjoy traveling along with us on our latest adventure.

<b><font color="GREEN">Where Next? </font></b>

We hadn’t even gotten the sand out of our ___ (fill in your own blank), upon returning from Africa, when people started asking “So where are you going next?” Next?! That time in Africa was the most intensive 26 days of my life, even I wasn’t thinking about another trip anytime soon.

However, I promised Mary Ellen that if we survived our East Africa Adventure, I would owe her a simple trip to <b>one</b> European city. We would stay in one hotel for a week. We wouldn’t need shots and we could drink the tap water in our hotel. It would be painfully simple.

We thought about several countries, but it always seemed to come back to Italy, Greece and Spain. Greece didn’t interest me much. I had been to Italy already, but could handle going again. I had never been to Spain and while it wasn’t on my must-see places, I told Mary Ellen I was open to whatever she wanted. So somehow, by March, the decision was made, I had one week of vacation and it would be Spain.

I started doing a bit of reading about Spain. A week in Madrid? That could work. However, in talking to lots of people in different travel groups, I heard a few disparaging words about Madrid, basically people said it was just a big city, why fly across the world to see that? Meanwhile, Mary Ellen talked to a close friend who studied in Spain when she was younger. She said the southern cities of Seville, Cordoba and Granada were beautiful. So it sounded like the plan would be to pick one city and spend a week there. This way we wouldn’t find ourselves changing hotels every two days, Nice and simple huh? Well you know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men…

Each city had its own allure and a great monument that cried out to be seen. Seville had its great cathedral, the third largest in the world and the Plaza de Espana. Cordoba had the Mezquita and Granada had the world famous Alhambra, considered one of the greatest sites in all of Europe, if not the world. So rather than make the hard decision and choose one city, we decided to do it all… <font color="RED">in a week</font> (!) Oh well, some habits die hard…

But I knew it was going to be exciting. I was going to get to indulge in my love for Muslim architecture which began at the Great Mosque of Delhi and climaxed in the shadow of the Taj Mahal. I would get to cross several more UNESCO World Heritage sites off my list.

UNESCO is the United Nations Educational Scientific &amp; Cultural Organization (www.unesco.org ). The World Heritage List tracks over 800 sites around of the world that have universal value to all of humanity. (http://whc.unesco.org/en/list )

Rather than go with a tour group, we were going to live by our wits (or lack thereof). We booked hotels and bought Eurail passes online. (Thanks to Azad of Sabo Travel for helping me to secure everything.) We would hop on trains and buses and make our own way across Spain.

Hey it’s Europe, what could possibly go wrong?

<b><font color="GREEN">Spain Past &amp; Present</font></b>

(Quickie summary of the Islamic conquest of Spain &amp; the Reconquista. Brief pass through the 1900s of Spain. Then short mention of the Madrid Train bombings.)

waynehazle

<font color="PURPLE"><b>Day 1 Tuesday May 22nd - Flying</b></font>

Bright and early Tuesday morning we got up ready for our 12:30 flight to JFK in New York. From there we would catch a seven hour flight to Madrid, Spain. Mary Ellen and I packed reasonably light so that it would be easy to navigate public transportation. In fact, I think I had more books and camera equipment than clothing. I still shoot with a film camera and had a whole bag with dozens of rolls of film.

There are few things I love more than curling up with a good book over a long plane flight. I had several pounds worth for this short trip. Several years ago, I bought the Lonely Planet guidebook to Spain and now I was finally using it. I also scooped up two novels by one of my favorite mystery writers, Patricia Cornwell, <b>The Last Precinct</b> and <b>Blowfly</b>. With each clocking in at over 400 pages, I wasn’t expecting to finish both, but I knew I would get through one quite easily.

However, for the last several months I had been hearing about a book called <b><font color="BROWN">A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Child Soldier</font></b> by Ishmael Beah. It is the true story of this young man who was a child soldier in the civil war in Sierra Leone. This outstanding autobiography, highlights the horrific practice of conscripting teenage and even preteen boys to fight in brutal guerilla wars. I had planned to read it later in the year, but with all the great recommendations I heard, this one now jumped to the top of my list.

I had decided that I was not going to bring my usual fedora on this trip. It was still beaten and dirty from the Africa trip. I never got around to cleaning it. For days I thought of another one of my hats that could substitute. Perhaps a straw cowboy hat from Chile? Or maybe a wide-brimmed Australian Outback style hat? There was even the safari hat I got from Africa. It was minutes before we were supposed to leave the house and I hadn’t decided! But in the back of my head, I could hear the voice calling me. <b><font color="PINK">Wait a minute, why is this even being thought about?</font></b> I walked into my office and picked up the dusty, weather beaten, brown fedora and placed it on my head. <font color="RED">Now</font> the trip could start!

Mary Ellen was nursing a bad foot, so all the walking was going to be tough on her. But as always, she was game for just about anything, which always comes in handy on a vacation with me.

Our friend, Judy “Bo Duke” Ezaki, drove us to LAX. We love Judy dearly, but she is quite an… ahem… <i>energetic</i> person. We hung on for dear life as she navigated us through LA traffic. I was certain we would get to New York faster than the plane if she drove us, but since we had already bought tickets, we decided to stick with the plane.

As we made our way through the security lines, I tried not to have the overconfidence that was my Waterloo in Africa. But I couldn’t help thinking: It’s Europe, what’s the worst that could happen? Paved roads and clean water is all that matters. As we soared away from LAX, I finally began feeling excitement for the next great adventure.

Apparently there is a new FAA regulation that <u>requires</u> a crying baby to be on board every time I fly. Yet this was the least of issues. The turbulence on this flight was almost nonstop from takeoff to landing. Amazingly, I didn’t launch into full scale panic. A few weeks earlier I saw a report showing how airplanes are tested and it reassured me that a wing wasn’t just going to fall off a plane because of a little turbulence. So I ignored the shaking and barely sweat a drop.

The flight attendant passed out headsets. They were showing the movie <b>Music &amp; Lyrics</b>, which I considered seeing when it was in theatres. I didn’t put on the headset, but from looking at the screen a few minutes, it seemed that Hugh Grant played a bumbling Englishman and Drew Barrymore played a cute pixie-ish American. Yawn! That was enough for me.

I cracked open <b>A Long Way Gone</b>. Ishmael lived his early life like so many other young boys, hanging out with friends, being mischievous and loving his family. He remembered being mesmerized the first time he heard <font color="GREEN">Rapper’s Delight</font> by the Sugar Hill Gang. He also loved the music of LL Cool J, Heavy D, Naughty by Nature and other American rap artists. But Ishmael’s life was not like the typical young American boy’s. He lived in Sierra Leone, an impoverished country in Africa wracked with strife and civil war.

Ishmael and his friends formed a rap and dance group. One day when Ishmael was twelve, he and his friends decided to walk to the town of Mattru Jong, sixteen miles away. They were going to participate in a talent show. He carried of bag full of his rap tapes. They were just a bunch of young boys going into town for a little fun. <i><font color="ORANGE">How many young kids even think when they step away from their house that they will never see their home or their family again?</font></i>

waynehazle

<font color="blue"><b>Day 2 Tuesday May 22nd –Arrival</b></font>

We switched planes at JFK and took off again. Somewhere over the Atlantic it turned from Monday to Tuesday.

I delved deeper into <b>A Long Way Gone</b>. The civil war in Sierra Leone was now in full swing. Ishmael and his young associates found themselves fleeing through the jungles while bloodshed was all around. They were still scared young boys, just trying to get away, not yet corrupted. They dodged the government armies and the rebel groups who both wanted to capture young boys and force them into fighting. A comic moment happened when they stumbled upon a village and the villagers were going to kill them. Ishmael and his crew performed LL Cool J’s “I Need Love”. It pleased the village leader so well, that he allowed Ishmael and his friends to leave peacefully.

Finally, we landed in Madrid! For some reason, they played Madonna’s “La Ilsa Bonita” over the sound system in the plane. I don’t think this had anything to do with Spain, but it set a nice tone. We quickly went through customs, and I got a stamp in my passport from the Republic of Spain. Our next step was to catch the high-speed AVE train down south to Seville. But before we could catch the high speed train, we had to catch the train from the airport to the main train station in Central Madrid. Then there would be another two hours to get to Seville. The train was clean and comfortable. We pulled out of Madrid and before we knew it we were zooming through the Spanish countryside. It was open and clear.

Now Ishmael’s time had run out. He was captured by government troops. They told the boys that they were going to have to fight for their homeland. They told them that the rebels were the ones that burned their villages and killed their families. They told them these rebels were not human and that killing them was a duty. In a sad bit of symbolism, the rap tapes that Ishmael had been carrying for months got accidentally thrown in a fire. They were the last tie he had to his past life. Each boy was given an AK47 and ammunition. That gun was to be their best friend. They plied the boys with marijuana, cocaine and strange white tablets that boosted their energy. The army wanted young, hopped up killing machines. This is exactly what they got. Ishmael’s description of his first battle was so horrifying it made me numb.

What makes me want to read books like these, especially on a vacation? I guess by seeing some of the worst in human nature and the evil that men can do, I also see what people can overcome and survive. But my eyelids got heavy. Mary Ellen was already napping and now it was my turn.

When we arrived at the Central Madrid station, and headed to the transfer section for the train to Seville. We were directed to the ticket office, where we were told the additional fee. I was like, “Wait a minute, we have Eurail Passes.” They were like “Wonderful, now please get in the line over there and pay XXX .” OK, my blood pressure was starting to rise, Why would I get in line and pay again if I already bought a “pass”? Doesn’t a “pass” preclude all of that? A local woman did explain to us that this was how it worked. These fees were additional to the pass. It bugged me, even if it was right. But what was I going to do? <font color="blue">Just keep going Wayne, enjoy the vacation...</font>

We arrived in Seville and got information on how to get to the Hotel Bellavista. All was going so smoothly. Hey it was Europe, what could go wrong? We had to catch two buses to get to the edge of the city. They did say that the bus drivers were on stike, so service was a little reduced, buses weren’t coming quite as often. However, it was early and we thought “no worries”. It reminded me of my first adventure when I was in Rome and workers were on strike for a day. The Coliseum was closed. I remember being pretty bummed about that and even more irritated that no one was out picketing or protesting. People just stayed home or hung out. Oh well, that’s Europe for you.

We walked out of the train station to the bus stop across the street. I didn’t see any protesting bus drivers. I couldn’t help noticing how incredibly dark the sky was. The air was thick and humid. I pointed this out to Mary Ellen as we waited under the shelter. Within a few minutes I felt a drop, then another, then another. Within a few more minutes a <font color="red">torrential downpour</font> had started! Then hailstones the size of marbles plummeted from the sky. Was this the rain in Spain that falls mainly on the plain? We tried to hide under the so-called shelter, but it didn’t even begin to protect us. We stood in the freezing downpour at least ½ hour before the bus came. We jumped onto the crowded buses with our waterlogged suitcases. We slammed up against the local people soaking them too.

After a bit of riding, we needed to switch buses. So we went back out into the rain, and of course the place where we needed to go to catch the next bus was two blocks away. We hustled on city streets, through puddles, all the time being pelted. We then waited another forty minutes or so, under another “shelter” for the next bus. (by the way this shelter was across the street from two hotels which were starting to look pretty good) After quite a few more stops, we were let off in the Bellavista area.

We pulled our suitcases towards our hotel. As we approached, I saw several big tourist buses out front. Suddenly, I flashed back to my first trip. I remembered taking a bus across Italy and changing hotels virtually every night. We would pull up to tourist class hotels, open the door and just collapse in bed. If I wasn’t so cold and wet, I would have stood outside and gone down Nostalgia Lane some more. We quickly checked in. The room was simple and spare. We zipped open our suitcases, virtually every item we had was <b>soaked!</b> Clothing, underwear, books, magazines and even our passports, all were drenched. Water poured out of my shoes. In my intense desire to pack light, these were the only shoes I brought. I knew we were going to give the hotel hair dryer a good workout tonight.

We took a quick look at the hotel buffet dinner. We decided it was a little sparse and that we would walk around the neighborhood and find a local place. The rain had stopped at this point. I wore my shower slippers. After a few minutes of walking around the quiet neighborhood, we decided the hotel food was not so sparse after all. We gorged ourselves on their menu and then went back upstairs. After spreading all her stuff out to dry, Mary Ellen was done for the day. Thankfully, I had absolved myself of the feelings of guilt I had in Africa whenever things didn’t go right. Any craziness that happened was just part of the adventure. <font color="green">What am I supposed to do, control weather?</font>


I held the blow dryer on my sopping wet shoes until the smell of burnt rubber and warm, wet feet permeated the air. I smiled inside a little. Oh well, that’s Europe for you.

waynehazle

<b><font color="ORANGE">Day 3 Wednesday May 24th - Seville</font></b>

We woke up the next morning a groggy mess We would have thought it was all a bad dream were it not for every item we had being spread across the room or hanging on something drying. We made it downstairs just in time to devour the buffet breakfast. It was an interesting feeling being on our own. There was no tour guide downstairs waiting for us. Our destiny was our own. We could go wherever we wanted, whenever we wanted… or just go back to bed. On my first Europe Tour (yes I am referring to that again) we would have been up by 7 AM, eaten, put our suitcases on the bus and be on the road already.) But we knew this was our only true day in Seville and we didn’t want to sleep through it.

So we gamely got ready for a day in the city. Another 10 minutes of the blow dryer and my shoes were actually quite dry and warm! Good enough! &lt

I had half a dozen things written down that we could do and go to see including, the Alcazar, the great Cathedral, the Plaza de Espana, the Torre del Oro. But really there were only a few priorities. Mary Ellen wanted to come to Southern Spain to see a Flamenco show, so last night, at the front desk, we bought tickets for a show that would take place this evening.

We pulled out our maps and told the woman at the desk what we were looking to do. She pointed out the bus line. By the way, she also told us that there was a train stop just a few blocks from the hotel. We didn’t need to go through that nightmare with the buses and waiting in the rain! Oh well, no need to cry over spilled milk. It was time to get on with the adventure.

First, we walked the Bellavista neighborhood. It was, of course, much more pretty and lively during the day. We asked several people if they knew of a Kingdom Hall. Everyone shook their heads. (Yes, I did call the Bethel Branch before leaving home. For some inexplicable reason, they had a hard time getting information on where the Kingdom Halls were!) We exchanged some of our dollars for Euros.

We caught the bus towards downtown and admired the beautiful architecture. It was mostly Spanish styled. (Which made sense, this actually being Spain and all.) We got off where one of the passengers indicated we should.

We started at the Plaza de Espana, which was built for the 1929 Spanish-American Exhibition. The plaza is a huge semi-circle. If you have seen the Star Wars movie, Attack of the Clones, the Plaza de Espana is in a scene where Annakin and Padme arrive back on the Planet Naboo. (<i><font color="RED">Please don’t go back and watch that awful movie for that scene, I have had the memories of that movie surgically removed from my brain!</font></i There are beautiful tile mosaics all around the plaza, with scenes representing different cities in Spain. After walking around quite a bit and enjoying the park, we were ready to head to the cathedral.

It was going to be a bit of a trek to walk to the cathedral. We saw a bunch of carriage drivers sitting around while their horses rested. We asked them how much for a ride to the cathedral. They offered a day tour for $40. I told them we didn’t need a day tour since <i>the day was almost over</i> and we didn’t have time to tour all those places anyway. All we needed was to be taken a mile or two to the cathedral. They still wanted to charge $40, saying that was there minimum fee for hooking things up. I wanted to scream <font color="RED">“What hookup fee? The horse is right there, all hooked up and ready to go!”</font> &gt;

It reminds me of dealing with the cable or phone company and how they insist on charging you a “connection fee”. Aren’t all the wires already there? All they need to do is click a button on the computer screen and you’re “hooked up”.

But the drivers were all collectively holding firm at $40. I said to Mary Ellen, “Let’s walk away. One of them will catch us and make a deal with us.” Mary Ellen was in no mood to walk, but we started our path down the street. Wouldn’t you know it in a few minutes a carriage rider pulled up next to us… “$20”, he offered. It was still a lot, but I think Mary Ellen was already in the carriage before I could say “Yea or Nay”.

The carriage ride through Seville was very nice. You may read about Seville and think it is just some quaint little town with all horse and buggies. In fact, it is major metropolitan city. Seville, was once the capital of Spain and that only changed when a Spanish King decided to make Madrid the capital, since it was closer to the center of the country.

Soon however, the paved asphalt boulevards turned into narrow cobblestone streets, just like… a quaint little town. Within a few minutes, we were in front of a gigantic gothic structure: the Great Cathedral of Seville. The driver let us out, apparently a little grumpy. I was thinking “Dude you just made twenty bucks, when you would have sat there for the next few hours making nothing. Smile!”

We snapped a few pictures of the outside of the cathedral. The massive amounts of stone and the ornamental work was extremely impressive. We paid for the self-guided audio tour and headed in. The first room had a few pieces of priceless art. Then we headed into the main church. WOW! Only from the inside could we see how incredibly gigantic it was. It is written that when one of the leaders was pushing for the church to be built, he said <b><font color="BROWN">“Let us build a church so big they will think we were crazy!”</font></b> Mission definitely accomplished. In fact the cathedral in Seville is the third largest in the world in square footage. The top two are ____ and ____ (Hey, I need to make you do a little work! :-B )

The church began as a Muslim mosque, called Almohade, in the 12th and 13th centuries. The Almohade was converted to a Christian church and used from 1248 to 1401A.D. Then it was torn down, in order for the great cathedral to be built. The cathedral took 100 years to be completed.

The light grew dim as we walked quietly along the heavy marble walls. We looked at the various altars and emblems. It was here that I pondered the dark, brooding nature of Catholicism. Now of course we were in a <b><u> Gothic</u></b> church, so I wasn’t expecting pastels and rainbows, but would it have killed them to put one happy painting of Jesus curing someone or turning water into wine?

We walked quietly among the dimly lit, somber, marble lined chapels. There were paintings and idols of various saints, crypts of fallen martyrs, gold and bronze altars. The gigantic organ filled the center of the hall. Agonized depictions of the crucifixion were displayed in paintings, sculpture and relief work. Guilt hung in the air, like a dark heavy fog.

The remains of Christopher Columbus were brought to the Cathedral in 1899. His coffin is held aloft by four mace-bearers who represent the four kingdoms of Spain at the time: Aragon, Leon, Castile and Navarra.

Then, we climbed up the Giralda Tower. When this was the Great Mosque, it was a minaret. For Christian times, it was converted to a bell tower. There are no stairs inside the tower, but instead are a series of 35 inclined ramps wide enough to allow a horseman to ride up to the top. The view over the city of Seville was magnificent. We drank it all in for a few minutes, but then it was time to head to the Flamenco show.

We took city buses and soon enough we came up to El Palacio Andaluz. We started with dinner and then the show began. The women wore bright exotic colors. The performers were all wonderful. The music was mesmerizing.

Once the show was over, we knew we could hope on a train and be back at our hotel in 10 minutes. But we decided to look for the Kingdom Hall address that we had. Mary Ellen got more directions and we hopped on the correct bus. Soon, we were walking down a tiny street called Sebastiano Llano. We could see far down at the end of the street, several well dressed people milling outside. We knew these were our Brothers and Sisters! Mary Ellen went dashing down the street, bad foot and all, to meet them. The meeting had just ended, but we were able to get in and meet many of the friends.

Afterwards, Brother and Sister Larejo drove us back to the train station.

In just a few minutes we were walking through the Bellavista neighborhood, late at night. This certainly was a full day. This trip may turn out OK after all. As we got closer to the hotel we saw two young women sitting in a car. Mary Ellen felt she just had to try one more time. She asked them if they knew where a Kingdom Hall was. They pointed and said there was one just two blocks down! We quickly went and there it was … all closed up. <i>Their meeting was yesterday.</i> If we had known about the Hall (and weren’t soaking wet) we could have gone to the meeting!

We got back to our room. I did a few more rounds with the hair-dryer and we packed as well as we could.

waynehazle

<font color="violet"><b> Day 4 Thursday May 25th – Cordoba and the Long Haul</b></font>

Today was going to be a big day. We had a 9:30 AM train to Cordoba, which would take an hour. Then, we would spend the day there and see the Mezquita. Then, we would catch a late evening train to Granada, arriving around mid-night-ish. And yes, I know this is a long-way off from the “simple stay-in-one-city-and-relax” Europe trip, that was the original goal but … we’re young and you only live once, blah, blah.

The train ride was short and smooth. But it gave me more time to delve into A Long Way Gone. Ishmael had been taken from the soldiers who were forcing him and other young boys to fight in the war. Relief workers were trying to rehabilitate him and the other young boys. But in several months they had seen more horrors that most people will ever see. The young boys they were, seemed to be gone forever, buried under a web of drug addiction and relentless violence. <i>Could they ever find humanity again? </i>

At the Cordoba train station, we put our suitcases in lockers, freeing our hands and we were off. Before heading to the Mezquita we decided to head off to find the Kingdom Hall. We were told there was one not too far from the train station. So we began our walk through the streets of Cordoba. We mingled in quite comfortably with the locals. We found the area more pleasant to walk through than Seville.

Eventually we found the Kingdom Hall. It was mid-morning, so it was closed. But after asking a few random strangers we found out that a Brother owned a plumbing fixture shop just a few doors down the street! We walked down and met Brother Juan Reyes. We enjoyed some good conversation with him as he told us about the work in Cordoba. He also told us there was a big festival in town and later in the evening, many friends would be going to the festival. Unfortunately, we would need to be on the last train to Granada at 9PM and could not meet up with them.

Another brother, who had been in the Ministry, came by the shop. We talked for a while and he agreed to give us a ride to the Mezquita.

<font color="pink"><b>History of the Mezquita:</b></font> Under the Moors it was called the Aljama Mosque and it was the second largest in the world during it’s time. Construction began in 784 A.D. by the great leader Abd ar- Rahman. It was clearly influenced by the designs of the Umayyad Mosque in Damascus Syria and the al-Aqsa Mosque in Jerusalem (the Dome of the Rock). It took over 200 years and maintained the great Islamic design elements of repeating geometrical elements, arches and stylized designs framed by religious descriptions.

After the Reconquista, rather than tearing down the Mezquita, it was converted to a cathedral. Many of the large doors created to allow in light, were sealed. In a unique move, nearly one third of the pillars were removed and a church was built inside the mosque! The Mezquita truly earns its place on the UNESCO list.

Soon, we pulled up into the cobblestone lined streets of Old Cordoba and were standing outside of the walls of the Mezquita. The walls were huge and imposing. We looked at the ornate writing on the doors. The Mezquita was glorious and grand. More than anything else, the Mezquita was… <u>closed for the day</u> due to the festival! <font color="red">Unbelievable!</font>
While the Alhambra required tickets be booked online in advance to be able to get in, the Mezquita didn’t provide any such service, so there was no way of knowing ahead of time. Sigh... :'(

But rather than sit and feel bad, we walked around the Old City, which is absolutely worth seeing. We didn’t have a map or guide but just moved along as our feet directed us. Many of the homes of the old city have beautiful indoor courtyards. There were also tiny public squares where homes intersected. It was a feast for a wanderer with imagination. If only there was … more time. We had lunch at a local restaurant and tried a few tapas; they were basically very high priced appetizers.

We then walked across a bridge to the local fair. Like any American fair it was loud, but unlike any American fair, there were legions of Spanish women wearing bright colorful traditional dresses. Mary Ellen and I walked among the local fair goers and watched them enjoy themselves. We finally called our families to let them know we were OK.

As the evening started to roll in, we made our way back to the train station. Our legs were tired and stiff. Despite the little glitch, I felt quite satisfied with the day.

A Long Way Gone: <i>One Last War</i> – After having come so far, Ishmael had become human again. He fought of the addictions and freed himself from the violence he had been forced into. He made close bonds with his long lost family. But now the civil war in Sierra Leone was breaking out again. Ishmael had to hide out in his home town. If the soldiers found him, they would force him back into the Army. He realized that his only chance of having a normal life was to escape from Sierra Leone. The account left me riveted down to the very last page of this book. I looked at Mary Ellen as she lay peacefully sleeping and the train glided along. I thought about the thousands of other Ishmaels around the world right this minute. Only Jehovah God can bring take away their pain.

We arrived at the Granada train station, caught a taxi and after midnight (!) checked into the (more plush) Alixares Hotel, right next door to the world famous Alhambra.

irishface

Thanks for your wonderful pictures. Hope you have time to finish your trip report. Thanks for sharing.

Graziella5b

Hi,I enjoy your report. And your pictures were indeed great...thank you. I love Spain, and loved seeing them.