Conil.

First and foremost, I would like to apologize for the lack of dedication I have shown with this blog. I know it has been very hard on all of you, but I vow to do better from here on out. Actually, I haven't been quite as floja as it may seem...I wrote a post about a week ago and forgot to post it. So yes. That is just as bad. Regardless, here it is:

This past weekend we were given Friday off from school so that we could have a longer weekend for traveling. After planning/discussing trips for places all over Europe, I think every single person ended up going somewhere within Spain. What can I say? Spain es lo mejor.

Friday morning started off with a ferry ride to Puerto Real to see some historical edificios (including a castle where Cristobol Colon stayed) and a museum of one of Picasso’s painter friends. Is it terrible that I don’t even remember his name? I’ll be the judge.

Yes. It’s terrible.

After the return, we all took a bus to Conil. We had all been told Conil has beautiful beaches and beautiful “pueblos blancos.” And let me tell you. We were not disappointed. We somehow managed to find the perfect hotel overlooking the ocean. Sarah and I were so excited that we didn’t have to stay in a gross hostal that we had a happy dance on our balcony from which we could see the ocean on one side and the pueblo blanco on the other. Perfection.

The plan was to catch a bus to Gibraltar the next day, go hiking, and play with monkeys. That didn’t happen. We went to the wrong bus stop and by the time we realized it, our only option was to go back to Cadiz. It wasn’t a huge disappointment though because our new plan was to go to Gibraltar the next day, which would give us the opportunity to go back to Puerto Real to see the bull fight that night.

So. We are back in Cadiz. Three hours later, catch a ferry to Puerto Real. Get to the Plaza de Torros. Find out the bullfight is in Sanlucar. Ask for directions. Find the bus stop. Take a 20-minute bus ride to Sanlucar. Ask for directions. Find La Plaza de Torros. We are 30 minutes late and tickets are sold out. Buy super expensive ones. Run into the stadium and cram in between thousands of Spaniards. Watch 6 bulls get murdered. Follow car traffic on foot for 20 minutes. Ask for directions. Walk 25 minutes to the bus stop. Busses are gone. Trains are gone. Try to get a taxi for 5 people. Can’t. Try to get 2 taxis. Can’t. Try to get on a different bus line. Oh, wait. That bus driver told you those exist? They don’t. Want to get food, but have to save money to get home. Get directions to a taxi pick-up. Walk 15 minutes. Wait in line for 20 minutes. Pray to God for a van taxi. Doesn’t happen. Pay 120 euro for 2 taxis. Back in Cadiz. Cancel trip to Gibraltar. Exhausted, broke, and starving, but not mad because we are in Spain having the adventures of our lives.