domingo, octubre 15, 2006

Nicotine

The cigarette vendor downstairs must be very happy. Sales are rising and it's all because of me.

Look at this one-of-a-kind work of art. It's mine...















But don't try this at home.

Cathy in India

Cathy finally jumped into the blogging world, at http://masala-raga.blogspot.com. Her latest conquest - India.

domingo, septiembre 24, 2006

Dreamy state

Since I started this blog, I have been trying not to let pass a single month without posting even one entry. I'm afraid that if I did, it would be the start of this blog's slow but sure demise into oblivion, that one omitted month in my archives list would lead to another and another and another... This month, September, is especially hard for me to keep up to that promise. For all the "focusing" and "getting my act together" that I have been trying to do, it seems that these days I am not in the mood for anything. My mind knows what needs to be done, but my body would rather prefer to be a couch potato, constantly falling into a state of drunken stupor. I'm not in the mood to start working on a journal article which I promised to co-write with my thesis adviser. I'm not in the mood to jog with Enrique and use up my remaining entrance stubs to the public swimming pool. I'm not in the mood to start reading a novel I thought I would finish in two weeks. Nor am I in the mood to prepare hand-outs for my English class. Oh, by the way, how I hate teaching English! All it seems I have the mood for is to solve sudoku puzzles before going to sleep! If for anything, yesterday would be a good example of how my life is recently. Saturday took off with me having a mental list of tasks to be done, but I ended up buying a pack of cigarettes, dozing off in the afternoon, pigging out on pasta in the evening, and staying up late to watch sickening hard porn on TV at 2am. I swear, had the glass of 20%-alcohol wine that I drank been enough to induce vomiting, I would have pumped out of my stomach a whole sea of foul greenish liquid that spells A-N-X-I-E-T-Y. That's the culprit of it all!

miércoles, agosto 30, 2006

Summer backpacking 2006: Portugal

This year's destination for our summer backpacking was Portugal, which flanks Spain on the western side. Because it is so close to where I live, I would compare it to flying from Manila to Hong Kong except that you wouldn't even have to take the plane. A bus could get you there. From the very start we were debating which country to visit, taking into consideration our budget limit, our preferences and stuff we had heard about different places, and in the end we both settled for the country that was right next to ours, as well as two regions in the north of Spain which were Castilla y Leon and Extremadura. Since our point of origin, Malaga, was located in the south, we ended up following an "elevator route," heading off to Portugal and going up, up, up north, then crossing over to Spain and continuing down, down, down until we reached the coastal city of Málaga, our starting point. Well, two-man adventure kicked off in the evening of August 7 and lasted till August 22, spanning a total of 13 cities.

Lisbon. Our very first stop was Portugal's capital, where I learned the Spanish term for "steep road," or "cuesta," because I would hear José María utter it in a characteristic frustrated tone all the time. Much to our disappointment, a big part of the historic quarter was spread out in an elevated section of the city. So walking the streets of Lisbon was like training to be a mountaineer, aggravated by the 40-degree summer heat which made us buy bottled water a lot of times. Portugal's capital for the most part is dirty and disorderly. The old houses seem to fall into ruin, paint chipping off their walls and droplets of stale water skydiving onto your head from the rusting roofs of five-storey buildings. Right below is a typical residential building in the historic quarter. Belém. Strictly speaking, Belém is still part of Lisbon except that it is six kilometers from the city center and looks like a different world altogether. It sits by the river and offers a splendid view of the waters lined by a bridge so tall it is almost a skyscraper! Belém's main attraction is a 16th-century monastery declared by UNESCO as a world heritage site, which transports you back into an era long gone as soon as you step into it. Here's a picture of the lovely cloister.Sintra. Before we decided to go to Portugal, I'd told Jose Maria that we must strive to do some physical activity, aside from the usual church-hopping which he liked no end. Sintra was the closest we got to being "physical." There was a fairy-tale-like castle on top of a hill from where, on our way back, we had to hike because a fallen tree somewhere had blocked the roads that the buses couldn't pass. We saw a lot of trees, some ducks, horses, and a rather boring lake. Not bad, haha! Here's a picture of the castle.Évora. This place is white. The houses, the public buildings, even the restaurants are white. It reminds me of the Spanish region of Andalucia where most of the old houses are white. The only thing that's not white in Évora is the cathedral and some unpainted buildings that have retained their natural stone color. The historic centre, also a UNESCO-protected site, constitutes a small town in itself and is set apart from the rest of the city by walls. Here's a picture of a white building.Fátima. On our fifth day in Portugal, we found ourselves with nowhere to go. The previous night, we had been to check out the gay scene in Lisbon (which didn't amount to anything really), so we woke up with bloodshot eyes and a mild headache. At the bus station we wanted to pick a destination at random and it somehow occurred to us to visit Fátima. The city itself is not a marvel but the Virgin's apparition to Lúcia, Francisco and Jacinta piques the curiosity of many. The place was filled with pilgrims, camp sites and rosaries for sale. Here's a picture of some devotees who walk on their knees from the southern part of the square to the miracle site.Coimbra. We arrived in Coimbra on Sunday morning so the place seemed peaceful and dreamy. Only a few cars were on the streets and most commercial establishments were closed. If there's one thing I liked about this city it certainly was the university, which the Portuguese consider as the "Oxford of Portugal" because it is old and has great architectural value, unlike most modern European universities. A small corner of the 18th-century library is shown in the following picture.Oporto. Old houses, huge crowds. Pretty much resembles the 19th-century Manila I've seen in black and white photos. I consider Oporto one of the most memorable for four reasons. First, because on the day that I had to wash my clothes all the laundry shops seemed closed and I felt seriously threatened to put on used underwear. Second, because we group-toured a wine stockhouse and it was my first time to go to a wine-tasting (pic below). Third, because Oporto wine is sweet and has 20% alcohol content! Fourth, because it rained a lot even if it was summer.Braga. This is one place I don't remember a lot about. I think it's got the usual churches and other historical stuff. We were supposed to go to Bom Jesus do Monte, a church perched on a hilltop, but we missed the city bus, which made us miss the funicular, which gave us no time to hike all the way to the church because we had already bought the tickets for the ride back to Oporto. To José María's disappointment, we just meandered around the foot of the hill. Here's a picture of the main plaza.

Summer backpacking 2006: Castilla y León

From Oporto, Portugal, we took a bus that headed eastward towards the Spanish region of Castilla y León, passing by the seemingly endless expanse of dramatic fields and cinematic sky views between the two countries (pic below). Spanish police conducted a short inspection at the borders, after which was a stopover at a highway restaurant, where, for the first time since the start of the trip, we had a complete two-course meal with wine and dessert. Something that simply wasn't the custom in Portugal.León. The road trip from Oporto took about ten hours so we arrived in León at night. We went out of the hostel to take a walk and sat on a bench in front of the cathedral. Apparently deceived by my oriental looks, a Japanese couple approached us to ask me to take their picture. After the shot, the woman attempted some small talk and was surprised that I was talking to her in Japanese even if I had just told her I was Filipino. That incident reminded me how long I hadn't used my Japanese...whew! Here's a sample of what's inside the lovely cathedral.Salamanca. In Filipino, the name of this place means magic, and indeed it is magical, for José María at least. He adores the place so much that he was at once incredulous and threatening when I told him it was somewhat visually boring. I thought Salamanca was lovely, but the uniform stone color of the buildings in the historic center was quite monotonous, unlike the varied hues of the old houses in Oporto. Here's a picture of the Casa de las Conchas, or the Shell House, which looks much better in picture than it really is.Segovia. One thing that surprised me about Segovia (aside from its breath-taking cathedral, its 1st-century Roman aqueduct and the alcázar) is that it is so expensive. At lunchtime, we had a rather difficult time scouting for a place that would suit our shoestring budget, since most restaurants were offering a standard two-course meal at 20 euros! For the first time in Spain, I felt like I was in France! Right below is a picture of the very old but still standing Roman aqueduct.

Summer backpacking 2006: Extremadura

From Castilla y León (where the weather and the people were quite cold), we headed south to Extremadura where we felt again the searing summer heat. By this time both I and José María were already exhausted and looking forward to returning to Málaga.

Cáceres. At the heart of this city is a medieval town so little changed since the 15th and 16th centuries, it's worth visiting even under the sun's scorching heat. This town, often used as a film set according to Lonely Planet, is set apart from the rest of Cáceres in a walled space. The old buildings are all made of the red-brownish stone that you see in the picture below. We were there on a Sunday so the town was very quiet, I felt like I was transported back to the Middle Ages! Mérida. I'd heard good things about Mérida even before, but all that went down the drain as soon as we got there. Aside from some major sights like the Templo de Diana and the Teatro Romano, the only thing that Mérida can boast is archeological ruins dating back to the Roman times. We gawked at A LOT of rocks -- or whatever's left of the settlements that used to occupy the city -- I almost wanted to study them. Here's a picture of the Teatro Romano.

Footnote: Well, that's it! Till the next backpacking trip!

lunes, agosto 07, 2006

Sleep

It's a little past 8 am in Malaga and I just got up from bed after five measly hours since I drifted into slumber last night, or rather, early this morning. For the past four weeks since I transfered to my new flat, my body clock has seemed to be bewilderingly odd if not completely altered. Every morning I wake up to a mild headache generally at around 9, and no matter how late I dozed off the previous night, watching TV, surfing the Net, or simply doing stuff in the four corners of my room, it seems that I am unable to sleep beyond 10 am. My consciousness snaps back into reality, autmotically it seems, without the aid of an alarm as if it were a timer-controlled machine itself that does everything painfully on the dot. Worse still, on certain days of ill-luck, I wake up to the unbearable noise of a neigbhor trying to start his shitty car in the parking lot below, right outside my room's fourth-floor window. It is the kind of noise that makes you want to drop a rock on the roof of his car, because it sounds like the pleading of a helpless pig about to be butchered at the break of dawn, but then you are not capable of such evil too early in the day. You just wish for his pathetic car to deteriorate into a state of complete malfunction.

You see, having to wake up early is rather unfortunate as I can't take advantage of the fact that I have nothing much to wake up early for these days. I'm taking a break from teaching English, something that I don't enjoy doing, and the rest of my daily errands do not generally require that I leave the house first thing in the morning. It would be nice if my sleeping habits could change before I get busy again. I would love to sleep like a lazy, pot-bellied father who burps and snores in his bed until 3 pm!

Today I have to go downtown to buy a battery for my digicam and a book to bring along for the trip. Time flies I didn't realize that it's been a year since I first backpacked with my travel companion, Jose Maria, and later tonight we will set out again to do exactly the same. I wonder what little adventures or misadventures we will bring upon ourselves this time...

viernes, julio 14, 2006

Weekend getaway

Two months ago I was at the height of thesis work. I was so burned out and tired of thinking I thought there was no other way to keep me from going nuts but to reward myself with a few days of completely brainless existence. So I searched the Net for low-cost flights (and there are many in Europe) and booked a weekend flight to northern Spain. The journey didn't turn out to be an entirely brainless activity, but spending a few days in Bilbao, San Sebastián and Logroño (May 5-8) did keep me within the bounds of sanity.

Bilbao. This city and the entire region to which it belongs, Pais Vasco, is famous more than anything for its culinary tradition. The mere mention of the place is enough to conjure images of its famous chefs, elite culinary societies (most of which are male-exclusive) and the locals' fondness for an excellent meal. I was surprised that in restaurants in Bilbao, and in the entire Pais Vasco for that matter, a complete two-course meal with dessert comes with a whole bottle of wine -- unlike in Málaga where they serve you a small glass. So as soon as the waitress landed the wine bottle on my table, I thought to myself, "Huohhhh, am I supposed to drink all of that?" I looked around me and all the other tables had a whole bottle each, except that the wine was being shared by two or more people. I, on the other hand, was alone. It didn't matter since I love wine, and I consider myself a borderline alcoholic. It's just that I was too drunk whenever I stepped out of a restaurant that I often had to doze off in a park before I could set out again. In my sober moments, I visited the famous Guggenheim museum, took a funicular to a hilltop, but spent most of the time in the old quarter where the city's famed pintxos and bar scene are concentrated.



San Sebastián. I arrived in San Sebastián too early in the morning, around 9 am if I remember correctly. Aside from the closed shops and the nearly empty streets, one of the first things that greeted me was rain. It was pouring, the sun was nowhere to be seen, and there was no heavenly sign that that day was a great day to live your life as a tourist. My poor little umbrella was useless because it was windy, and my shoes and pants were getting soaked. However, the odd thing was that I didn't seem to mind the rain. In fact, I was happy to be walking aimlessly in the rain, following the stretch of the sea and watching the violent waves crash against the stones. I was even whispering to myself a Pinoy pop song, against the defeaning sound of rain hitting the pavement. Hahaha. Funny how even a rainy holiday could bring joy to a burned-out graduate student. Eventually the pouring came to a halt and I was able to explore the city without the need to balance an umbrella and a camera in my hands. I visited a couple of churches, hiked to a hilltop overlooking the sea and saw a group of old men fishing in the river on a lazy Saturday afternoon. I took pictures of some banners of the ETA, an armed Spanish separatist group based in País Vasco.



Logroño. This city is part of the region of La Rioja, a name you will see printed on most wines of Spanish origin. This region, which boasts numerous vineyards, is where the finest red wines in the country are produced. I'd squeezed in Logroño in the trip because I was eager to see the famous vineyards. However, I was disappointed to learn that they were closed on Sundays, even those in the town of Haro where a good number of them are concentrated. Good thing I stumbled upon a wine shop where I was able to grab a couple of reds. I was fully aware that they were also being sold in Málaga, perhaps at a friendlier price, but it felt good to buy them in that dimly-lit, traditional-looking store in Logroño. Much like buying peanut brittle in Baguio. Apart from the vineyards, there was nothing really much to see in this city. I wandered about the town park for a while, observed the Río Ebro and passed by the Universidad de La Rioja before heading back to Bilbao from where I was to fly home to Málaga the following day.

martes, julio 04, 2006

Judgement day

And so judgement day (read: thesis oral defense) finally came to pass. It was held at one of the conference rooms in my university yesterday, July 3, at 10 am. The panel was composed of two Spanish professors and one invited German professor who is, incidentally, the executive director of an NGO to which I'm applying for an internship (I hope I made a good impression!).

I was given half an hour to deliver my presentation, after which there was a question-and-answer portion that lasted for another thirty minutes. I was so nervous! In my batch, I was the first one to finish the thesis and I had never attended the orals of the previous batches. But I guess I did a great job because the panel's verdict on my thesis was a resounding sobresaliente cum laude, the highest distinction possible!

Here are some pictures from the oral defense and our class get-together that followed in the evening. You will see how (excessively) tanned I am!


viernes, junio 30, 2006

Departures

I hate departures. Especially if somebody else is leaving and I'm the one being left behind. It feels like shit, 100 per cent.

One of my dorm friends, Ashley, is leaving today. She was an exchange student for a year at my university, and today she's leaving for Madrid from where she will fly back home to the US.

Gabriel, the waiter at the dorm cafeteria, will also be leaving next Friday for a two-month vacation in the US, after which he's coming back to Malaga to get his stuff and move to Salamanca. He's moving there to continue college.

It's actually goodbye season in the dorm. Summer has set in and one by one, the doors are being locked and the flats are left empty. This has been my home for the last one and a half years and soon I'm moving in to a new flat. I just can't wait to take my own leave coz I don't like the thought of being left behind. It puts me in a really damp mood.