Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Mucha comida y esquiar!

One of my favourite things about the working week in Spain has to be Fridays. I mean, obviously Fridays are a highlight of any working week, but here they do 'intensive hours' on a Friday, meaning that they work from 8am - 3pm without taking a lunch break, and then clock off at 3. It's amazing how much longer the weekend feels by having just a few hours extra added on to the Friday.

I got home and had a late lunch, made the most of my free afternoon by napping (what else?!) and then packed a bag as I was going away with the family for the weekend! They have a house halfway between Barcelona and Andorra that they go to a lot at the weekends, so the plan was to drive there on Friday evening, chill and meet up with their family and family friends on Saturday, and then drive the rest of the way to Andorra on Sunday to ESQUIAR!

We packed up the car and on the way the boys were asking me to name English songs so that they could download them and play them in the car. They loved all the Ed Sheeran/Olly Murs stuff, as they'd heard it before, but never caught the name to be able to download it, and Bruno Mars was also on repeat the whole journey! After about an hour of driving we got to their little house, which was really cosy, and they said it was great for skiing as it heats up so quickly in the winter. We had a late dinner (as per... I mean, we are in Spain now), watched some tele and then went to bed.

Saturday turned out to be a day which hugely revolved around food. I had a great lie in before going downstairs and having a late breakfast with the family. One of the boys had just got his little motorbike fixed so was racing that around a field and the others had stuck a twig in a hedge just too far for Benny to reach when jumping, so it was hilarious to watch him continuously spring up trying to catch it in his mouth. I went with Bea and one of the boys to a nearby cafe with wifi in the late morning, as he had a school project to do and there was no internet in the house. We stayed there for about an hour, and then went back to the house to get ready and drove to their grandparents, who also have a weekend house nearby. The house backs onto a golf course, and has a great view of the mountains in the distance. This was my first experience of a real 'aperitif'. We got there just after midday, and sat out in their garden drinking champagne and enjoying the sun and the various nibbly bits they'd put out, including more spanish ham (divine), and olives and other little snacks. We stayed until about 3pm. when the grandparents friends started arriving for lunch, and we made a move as we had our own lunch plans. I realised I was surprisingly full, as we'd been eating and drinking for a good 3 hours, but the time had flown by so quickly as it was all so relaxed sitting outside in the sun. We then made our way to a typical Catalan resturant and met up with another family for the real lunch. As I was so full I could just about manage a salad, and all of the puddings seemed chocolate based and after the doughnut incident in Durham I wasn't risking that again until Lent was well and truly over!! We finished sometime after 5 and the other family then took us to the house in the area that they'd just purchased. It seemed strange that we were over an hour away from Barcelona, yet still surrounded by their friends and families who all had property here. Bea explained that it's very common for families that live in the city centre to have a house in the country as a 'getaway' for weekends, and that this area in particular was very popular with their friends and family.

In the early evening we went back to a cafe with wifi so that one of the boys could finish their school project and then got ready and went to another one of their friends house for dinner. When we got there the house was already buzzing, as about 5 families had been invited over for the evening. There must literally have been an exodus to the country that weekend!! The proper dinner was really just for the 'adults', and for this purpose I was a 'child', so I walked with the other children to a nearby restaurant to pick up some pizzas. I'm definitely not complaining however, as I am one of pizza's biggest fans! After eating we started playing a game of 'Tic, Tac, Boom'. There were 2 sets of cards, one set that had 3 random letters on, and another set that either said 'tic', 'tac', or 'toc'. If I remember correctly, the 'tic' card meant that you had a say a word starting with the letters on the card, 'tac' meant that the letters had to come at the end of the word, and 'toc' was a free for all, so they could come at the beginning, middle or end of the word. There was a bomb that you hold until you've thought of a word, and pass on once you've thought of one. If the bomb explodes while you're holding it, you've lost that round and have to take the letter card. At the end, the person with the least cards in their pile wins. For my benefit we banned Catalan for the game and had to stick just to Castellano (which some of the younger kids found surprisingly difficult!). It was a lot of fun, and by some miracle I ended up winning all 3 rounds that we played! The adults had then finished their dinner, so all of us squeezed around the table (more than 20 of us I reckon). The game was much more fast paced, but I miraculously still ended the game without collecting a card and won! I was chuffed to say the least, as I was playing against a room of native Spanish speakers!! I think it was because most of them would just think of nouns for the words, whereas I would scour my entire (if limited) vocabulary, and so included verbs as well. Either way, people seemed impressed and the dad even said he was telling people at work about it!

It was suddenly almost 1am so we had to make a move as it was an early morning the next day for skiing!! Bea had lent me her sister's ski clothes and skiis, so I didn't need to worry about renting anything for the day. We were up and out by 10am, and on the slopes by about 11:30am. I'd definitely been spoilt for skiing in Austria, and don't think I'll ever ski mountains quite like it again, but I was still so so happy to be back on the slopes, and with such a lovely family as well. Things had REALLY turned around since my first week! The family were much more my skiing level than the Austrians, who I still maintain are born with skis on their feet, so we kept together all day. We enjoyed a  late lunch in the sun, and then skiied right until the last lift closed and we had to go home. We chilled at their house a little and packed away slowly, then drove the hour or so back to Barcelona. I watched a little tv with the family before my eyes started feeling very heavy. I thanked them for another amazing weekend, and went to get a good night's sleep, ready for another working week.







Monday, May 27, 2013

Working Woman

I woke up before my alarm on Monday morning, full of nerves about starting my new job. It wasn't so much the starting in a new office and meeting new people that was scaring me, more that fact that this was all going to be in Spanish, and my language skills were definitely far from ready for this. I had breakfast with the boys and then rode to work with Bea, my new colleague who had saved me from impending homelessness, on the back of her moped (how Spanish!).

Once at work, Bea did the rounds introducing me to everyone on my new floor, including one of my new bosses, (which actually is only about 10 people as all of the desks are so spread out), and we then went up to the third floor to do the same and meet my second boss. Once back on the 2nd floor, she handed me over to my new boss and left us to it. I had been placed in the International Receiving Office, and I will try and explain concisely what it is that they do. Zurich is an international company, a big advantage of this being that it can provide the insurance coverage for other international companies. Zurich will issue the insurance for Company X (covering the company in every country in which it is based), from wherever in the world Company X's headquarters are based. Often, however, the Company X will need separate policies for each of its subsidiaries around the world. This is when my department receives a request from whichever Zurich office are wanting to offer a global coverage to Company X, and we then issue the insurance policy, in the local language and in compliance with the local laws and regulations here in Spain. For example, although L'Oreal is an international company, it's headquarters are based in France. L'Oreal France would get in touch with Zurich France asking for all of L'Oreal worldwide to be covered. Zurich France would then get in touch with Zurich Spain (International Office), asking for a policy to be issued to cover the part of L'Oreal Spain. I hope that makes sense!!

My boss spent most of the morning explaining the ins and outs of the department to me, the project they had lined up for me, and a little bit about what everyone in the department did. After the big introduction, he handed me over to another colleague so that she could start showing me the different programmes that the department used. Between 10:30 and 11am it is usual for people working in Spain to leave the office for half an hour or so to have breakfast. I went along and had a mini baguette with Iberian ham (DELICIOUS) and an orange juice for €2.50. Compared to Paris (and even Salzburg) prices, this was a steal, especially as it was so yummy!! I spent the rest of the morning being shown around the different systems and was given a few small admin tasks to do as well. My boss invited me to lunch, so we went just him and I. Although my Spanish was still a little stuttery, he was very easy to talk to and the lunch hour passed very quickly, and it was nice of him to make the effort to get to know me as I am just an intern at the end of the day!

In the afternoon my 'eLearning' session had been set-up, which is the official company training, and has different lessons for all of the different programmes every department uses. I was subscribed to 2 or 3 of these programmes, which meant lots of reading and listening, and passing the tests to get to the next level. I did this until 5:30pm, when my boss said I could go home half an hour early as it was my first day. I walked home, which took about 40 minutes, but it was nice to stretch my legs as I wasn't used to so little movement for the whole day. That evening after a long working day and so much Spanish I was absolutely shattered, so had a nice long bath, watched some TV, ate dinner with the family, and had an extremely early night.

Tuesday and Wednesday followed much the same pattern, as I was still working my way through the eLearning lessons before being able to get started and use the programmes, and so so shattered in the evenings that it was all about I could manage to have a bath and some food before collapsing into bed. On Tuesday, however, I did get extremely lost on my way back. I tried to walk it, got lost, tried to take the bus, got lost, tried to take a taxi, but he didn't know where I wanted to go (the flat is right on the outskirts on the city on a very small road so not all taxi drivers know of it), and finally got a taxi driver that knew where I was trying to explain and managed to take me there, although I was very frazzled by this point and finally arrived home 2 hours after leaving work.

Apart from that incident, it all went smoothly and on Thursday and Friday I was given a few more tasks from the rest of my department to help with. Unfortunately my e-mail address wasn't working yet so I couldn't start on my main project, but these tasks were a good introduction into finding my way around the different systems before having to use them on my own properly. Although the people in my department did speak a lot of Catalan (luck of the draw I think, as there are many other departments that are purely Castellano speaking), they were good at remembering to switch when talking to me, and made me feel welcome by always inviting me to lunch etc. So all in all, the week was a lot more painless than I was expecting it to be. Especially from a language point of view I really surprised myself, by being able to communicate almost everything I wanted to, even if at times I was resorting to some elaborate hand gestures and quick wordreference searches.

As this has been a very text heavy post (I didn't take many pictures this week), I will end with a picture that I personally find hilarious. It had been raining all week, and when Benny, the family's French bulldog, goes out for a walk in the rain they all complain that he really smells. Therefore, every time before going out for his walks they fashioned a cape for him out of a plastic bag, and quite frankly he looked ridiculous. What's more, in addition to the usual noises that he makes just existing, when he moved wearing the plastic bag there was an almighty rustling/crackling sound. You could hear him coming from miles away!

Benny in his caped glory


Sunday, May 26, 2013

What a difference a day (week) makes...

After waking up and packing my things, I was more than ready to leave the less than friendly apartment and make my way to the family’s house. I arrived and was introduced to her husband, three boys and Benny the dog (he’s a French bulldog which is basically an oversized pug and he’s absolutely hilarious. He makes so much noise just existing as he can’t breathe properly and so tends to constantly snort. Amazing). They live in a lovely area in Barcelona. It’s about 20 minutes out of the centre, and the streets are all old, with lots of little parks and plazas around. As with most families in Barcelona, they live in a flat rather than a house. It’s really modern and very spacious, so I imagine it’s good for the summer too when things really start to heat up here!
As the boys had exams the following week, they decided to put off skiing until next weekend and to make the most of the sun in Barcelona instead. After all of the introductions, we all went to their school so that the boys could play football. After a grey week, it was finally  t-shirt weather, so I just relaxed with the parents and some of their friends in the sun while we were waiting. We got back and had a long lunch on their terrace at around 3pm (I’m going to have to get used to Spanish time!), before the family had a siesta (!!!!! – It’s not just a myth!) and then the boys went back to work. The dad works from home, and so gets to have a siesta everyday – that’s the life eh? He told me that the best siesta is after a meal and, contrary to popular belief, for optimum results you only need to close your eyes for 10 minutes. It’s meant to be more of a rest than a full-on sleep, so he recommended just dozing off in front of the tele. This is definitely something I will be doing in the very near future.

In the afternoon I went with the parents for a drive up into the hills above Barcelona. We went for a quick walk and had an amazing view over the whole city. We then drove into the heart of the city, and wandered around some of the gothic area. It was a really mild evening, and as I’d been so stressed last week I hadn’t taken the time to go out of my way and be a tourist in Barcelona yet. This was my first introduction to the real city, and it was impressive! We went to a tapas bar that was typical of Northern Spain. All of the tapas have a cocktail stick in, so you take a plate and as many tapas as you like and at the end the waiter counts up the number of cocktail sticks on your plate and charges you accordingly. Apparently the people in Cataluña are notorious for not always footing the bill completely and hiding a few cocktail sticks when they’re finished with their meal, so there aren’t too many of these bars around it the city. The atmosphere in the bar, and the city, on a Saturday evening was amazing, and started to get me really excited to be living here. We went home and had dinner with everyone (at 10pm – Spanish people, you are mad!), then watched a film and went to bed. I had the best night’s sleep of my time in Spain so far. Even though I was still waiting to know where I would be living, I already felt a lot more settled, and it was just so nice to make some connections here, especially with such a nice family.
My first view over the city... and yes, that is the sea.



Bea, my new colleague, and I, enjoying the view.
We had a lazy morning on Sunday, and a late breakfast with lots of Spanish pastries and fresh orange juice. I spend the rest of the morning just chilling, watching some TV, and trying to make head or tail of some of the Spanish magazines lying around. Around 1pm we headed A LA PLAYA! In less than a 20 minute drive we were by the sea. The restaurant we ate at was literally on the beach. There’s a path that goes along the back of the beach, and most restaurants have an inside area on one side of the parade, and an outdoor terrace on the other side, ie. on the beach. We had mussles to start, and then shared 2 huuuge paellas between the family. With this, plus the tapas the day before, I can officially say that Spanish food is incredible!!  We went for a walk along the beach afterwards, and although it was sunny, it was also incredibly windy so I couldn’t continue getting a headstart on my tan like I had the day before. 




When we got back I checked my e-mail and the Plan A flat had e-mailed back saying that they’d love me to move in with them. I was so excited!! As I didn’t want to overstay my welcome with the family I told them that I would move into a hotel until the 15th, but they were having none of it. They insisted that I stay here with them until the room was available, and it was an offer that was pretty hard to refuse. So I’m now sorted accommodation wise for the rest of my time here, which is a huge relief!

Once back from lunch we did the Sunday rounds to both sets of grandparents. Both only live about 10 minutes away from the family, which is a big difference to my family who are jotted all over the place, and I found it really nice that the kids just went to their grandparents if they finished school early, or just fancied spending the evening there. Neither families spoke great English, so I got to practice some Spanish which was great as well. Both sets of grandparents were really welcoming, and a lot like how I'd expect typical Spanish families to be, with lots of kissing and hugging and talking over each other! After lots of tea and biscuits we headed back. On the way home they pointed out my bus stop to get to and from work, and showed me which stop I'd need to get off at etc. In the evening I started to get a little nervous at the prospect of starting my job the next morning. I asked for advice on what to wear, and if I should use tu (informal) or usted (formal) when greeting people. It seems to be a lot more common to use ‘tu’ here, for example the waiters in the restaurants use tu, whereas in France they would definitely stick to the formal version. We decided it would be best to start off more formal, just to be sure to make the best impression. We had another fairly late tea, and the family were staying up to watch a programme but as I wanted to be fresh for the morning I headed to bed instead of joining them.

As I fell asleep that night I thought back over the week. Last Sunday, as I was struggling to go to sleep in the noisy hostel, I would never have thought that this time in a week I’d have been invited to the home of such a nice family and have found a pretty near perfect flat. It’s funny how things work out hey! J

Stressful Semana

After a much needed week-long break in England, and many catch ups with important people, it was time to start the Year Abroad Part 3 – Barcelona, Spain. After my time is Paris and Salzburg, I’d never felt more ready to start a new adventure. Like in France, I would be working for Zurich in Spain. I was prepared for the realities of a 9-5 job, had lived through the hottest summer in Paris, and equally the coldest winter in Salzburg, and had already experienced arriving in a country where I didn’t know a single person and was still thinking in another language (previously after my 24 hour turnaround between French and German, and now I was still dreaming in German until a couple of days ago!)

As I hadn’t spoken any Spanish since walking out of my oral exam last summer, the plan was to arrive a week before starting my job and do a language course in the mornings and apartment searching in the afternoons/evenings. I hoped that my Spanish would be up to scratch and I’d have found and moved into a flat before starting my job the next Monday.

In theory, I was pretty confident it would all work out or at least if it didn’t, that I’d been more than prepared for it. Needless to say, this didn’t quite go to plan.

The taxi ride from the airport went smoothly, once I’d gotten over the initial shock that I was now in Spain, and yes, they speak Spanish here, and yes, it is so fast that every sentence just sounds like one reaaallyy long word. I will never be quite sure what the taxi driver was talking about, but I think it was about a chica, who he thought was the love of his life, but had just dumped him. I got through the conversation with a lot of nodding, lots of empathetic ‘si, si’-ing, and the occasional ‘por que?’.

The first thing that didn’t quite go to plan happened straight away on Sunday evening. For the first week, I had booked to stay in one of the language school’s apartments, which is shared with other students. You go to a hostel to pick up the keys first, as it is open 24/7 and easier than someone having to meet every student that arrives, and then make your way to the flat. However, once I arrived at the hostel to pick the keys up, they weren’t there. The hostel said this was the only time they can remember that the school hadn’t dropped them off, but they hadn't given either of us had an emergency number to contact them on the weekends, nothing could be done until the office opened again the next morning. Fortunately, the hostel had a free bed that night so I wasn’t homeless, but it was extremely stressful, and not the start I’d hoped for. I had been planning on going for a wander that evening to find a restaurant for dinner. However, by the time everything was sorted I really wasn’t in the mood, and so instead of the paella I had been dreaming of, it was the cheese and pickle sandwich that was leftover from my packed lunch that morning. The room I stayed in was tiny and much too small for the 8 people that were sleeping there. The bunk beds were incredibly creaky, and the person on my top bunk had to be the one that got in at 3am and went to the toilet numerous times in the night, plus the other people in the room that were up and packing, without any consideration for the others, at 6am the same morning. All in all it was a forgettable first night, and it goes without saying that the hostel has nothing on the Wombat’s!!

I got a few funny looks when I rocked up to the language school on Monday morning with my huge suitcase in toe, but once I explained what had happened they were extremely apologetic and gave me a refund for the hostel without me having to ask, which was appreciated. Class that morning was a blur. I stuttered to introduce myself, and spent the rest of the time trying to work out where one word ended and the next began, so couldn’t even begin to think about actively participating.

After class, I moved into the apartment the school had provided. The positive is that it was only a 5 minute walk from the school and sharing with a Russian girl, who seemed very nice, although I didn’t see her much. The rest, unfortunately, wasn’t so great. The area it was in was a big shock to the system having been living on the most beautiful lake only 2 weeks before. The flat was old and cold (having to sleep with 2 duvets and the heater on was a far cry from the Mediterranean climate I'd been hoping for), and just didn’t feel like home at all. The next big disappointment came with my first apartment viewing that afternoon. I’d arranged to see this one first as it seemed like the perfect flat; a nice big room, spanish speaking housemates, and a 10 minute walk from work. The road it was down was very small, and I didn’t get a great vibe – lots of deserted and/or shut down shops. I met the landlady, and she showed me round the house, which looked nothing like it did on the website, as SHE HAD USED DIFFERENT PHOTOS. It was a lot smaller, less modern, and more cramped that I was expecting. The saving grace had to be how close it was to walk, so once she was finished showing me round, I did the walk to test it out. 10 minutes walking… nowhere to be found… 20 minutes walking… still no sign… after over half an hour of walking I was there. The problem, as I later realised, was that because of the grid layout of the city, google maps can find any street for you, but it has next to no idea where on that street the number actually is. As the house wasn’t near to any metro or bus station, that was too far from work to commit to, especially as I’d have to be walking it come rain or shine. Although I can put this into perspective now, the disappointment of that house was the straw that broke the camel’s back, as it were. As I was now back to step 1 of the apartment search, I suddenly realised how little time I had to find somewhere before the weekend when I would officially be homeless. This, coupled with my sleepless night and the stress of my inability to speak Spanish was not a great mix. Cue first meltdown.
For the rest of the afternoon, I didn’t move from my computer. I was scouring the internet for every possible room in Barcelona that met my criteria ; near to work and with Spanish speaking housemates, which I initially didn’t think was that big an ask in such a big city. I narrowed down the apartments as best I could, and got on with arranging apartment viewings for the rest of the week.

I had a quick reply from 1 apartment, and so went to see it at 9pm that evening. I can’t explain why, but as soon as I walked into the flat, I felt at home. It was just a gut instinct. The housemates were all Spanish speaking and we seemed to get on really well, it’s on the same road as work, the flat is cosy and the room was a nice size. The only problem was that the room wasn’t available until the 15th March, which would mean being homeless for another 2 weeks after moving out of the language school apartment, and so I went home to sleep on it.

The next day, Tuesday, I struggled through the class again, and spent the afternoon running around Barcelona and visited 4 or 5 more apartments. Without internet on my phone, my home-made maps were serving me quite well until the very last apartment. I was running late, and very lost, so ended up taking a taxi to make it to the viewing on time. I told the landlord and he laughed, saying how British that was of me (!). Back at my apartment I was mulling over the pros and cons of each place, and realised that I wasn’t going to ‘click’ with anywhere else quite like I did the place I saw the previous evening. I decided it would be worth homelessness for another 2 weeks, and sent them an e-mail saying that I’d like to take the room, and crossed my fingers.

Wednesday followed much the same pattern. After spending so many hours on the internet, frantically running around Barcelona every afternoon, getting more and more frustrated with how difficult I was finding Spanish and not having heard back from the apartment I was pinning all my hopes on, the stress got to me again and it was meltdown number two. They did reply that evening though, saying that they thought we got on great and would like to have me live with them. I went to bed a much happier bunny, as now I just had to find a hostel or similar for the next 2 weeks, but could really start concentrating on the language, and even preparing for work the next week.

Thursday morning, however, was a different story. The apartment had e-mailed again overnight saying that they think they’d prefer to have someone for a longer period of time and so they weren’t sure it would work out. This time, the meltdown was massive. I had all the stresses of the previous meltdowns, plus the fact that it was now the day before I would be homeless, and I was just as near to finding a place to live as I had been when I arrived. That day I went to visit more and more apartments, becoming more and more frazzled as the day went on. I’d really set my heart on this apartment, especially after the e-mail the day before, and there were a lot of tears that day. As the stress has been building up, I did get overly upset, as in the new setting and situation, I wasn’t putting things into perspective as I would normally have done. I would also like to mention that the weather was doing nothing to help the situation. It had been rainy and miserable since I arrived – where’s the sun that I was promised Barcelona?! That evening, after a few emergency Skype calls, I put together a Plan B. I was going to have to compromise and so went for a flat that was still with Spanish speaking housemates, but in an ugly* area, and further away from work.

Friday threw another spanner in the works, as after e-mailing my Plan B apartment, Plan A e-mailed again to say that actually they do really want me to live with them, they don’t think the time span will be too big an issue, but could I wait until the weekend to give them time to discuss it properly as a flat. This was a big dilemma, as I had to move out the next morning and currently had nowhere to go, so really needed to know if I should check into a hostel for the next 2 weeks if they were going to say yes, or move straight into my Plan B flat if they were going to say no. I’d arranged to go for a coffee with a colleague from Zurich before starting work next week, and explained my predicament to her. Without even hesitating, she said that I should stay with her this weekend to give the flat time to decide, and if it was a yes then I could stay with her as long as I need, and if it was a no then she would drop me off at the Plan B flat after the weekend. After all the stress and ups and downs, I nearly cried when she said this (nearly – this must sound v dramatic!). She was so kind to open up her home to me, and she really got me out of a pickle! She said that if any of her children were abroad and in the same situation, she’d hope that someone would help them out as well, and I have definitely resolved to make an effort with the international students next year. And as an extra bonus, she and her family were planning on skiing in Andorra that weekend, which I was more than keen to get involved in!

On Friday evening, I was invited to drinks with the Plan B apartment. I went along as I figured that as living with them for the next 5 months was a real possibility, it would be a good idea to get to know them better. The night was enjoyable, and I got to practice a LOT of Spanish, before taking the last metro home at 2am. I still had a misgiving feeling in my stomach, especially as the guy mentioned that he and his girlfriend had been having a lot of issues (the flat was with a guy, his girlfriend, and another guy). I tried not to focus on those feelings too much, as it was now a 50/50 possibility that I would be living with them after the weekend!
So, after an extremelyyy long post (apologies), the week has ended a lot better than it started. I now have somewhere to go tomorrow morning, although the weekend will still be a waiting game until Plan A flat e-mails me with their decision. After the language course and all the apartment viewings, I can understand 1000x more Spanish than when I arrived on Sunday evening, and the sun is set to come out this weekend. There have been worse endings to a week I’m sure!


*When I say ‘ugly’, please bear in mind that I mean in relation to my previous locations. I’ve been incredibly spoilt so far on my YA. In Paris, I was living right in the centre of the 8th arrondisement, which is a stunning area, just by L’Eglise de la Madeleine, and , of course, in one of the prettiest cities in the world. In Salzburg, I was surrounded by stunning mountains, and living on the lake where the white Von Trapp house from the Sound of Music is. I had far to fall!!

My room for the first week, which I was more than happy to see the back of!

Back to the Bubble 2.0

Although I was sad to be leaving Austria and my life for the past 5 months behind, there was definitely one thing at home that would soften the blow. The day before I came home we had picked up our new PUPPY! I use the term 'puppy' loosely, however, as Archie, the 6 month old Border Collie was already fully grown when we got him. Unfortunately he'd been moved around a bit due to different family circumstances, and we were already his 3rd home. However, he didn't take long to settle in and in less than 24 hours had even claimed 'his' spot on the sofa. I've really missed having a dog at home, and loved Ronja, the family's dog, in Austria, so coming home to Archie definitely perked me up. He has so much energy and such a good nature that I fell in love with him immediately. Here are some photos so that you as well may bask in his cuteness!




I had a short but sweet evening at home with some classic trashy bristish tele, including highlights such as Miranda, and Take Me Out. I also, of course, fitted in time for my favourite tomato and lentil soup before catching my 7am train  (it was the cheapest... despite working all year I'm definitely still a student at heart) up to Durham. My train got in at midday and Steve met me at the station. We dropped my stuff off and then went into town for lunch. I had a duck wrap at Chapter's, and although it was nice, I think that I will always remain loyal to Cafe Continental, for their extremely extensive menu and amazing cakes, if nothing else!

We then went home, got ready for the Boat Club Ball. We went to the Swan and Three first, for a couple of drinks with everyone. It was nice to see everyone, including some who had graduated last summer that had come back for the Ball, but also weird as it felt a little like I could just slot right back into life at Durham as if I'd never really been away. After some drinks we went to the Three Tuns, for the official drinks reception and the meal. It was all lovely and in the awards after the meal Steve and I were awarded Best Boat Club Couple for the second year running and were given a big tube of Lovehearts as a prize. Steve cleaned up in the raffle though, and managed to win a free iPod shuffle!! The ceilidh afterwards was very fun, although the poor musicians had quite a hard time of it at the end trying to teach everyone the dances as the alcohol consumed throughout the evening started to take effect and everyone's attention spans rapily diminished accordingly. I got to fit in lots of chats and dancing before the night ended, so I'm glad I could make it up to Durham for it.





There was a race on Sunday morning which Steve went to, so I spent the morning watching more catch up TV, and then we had a nice relaxed evening once he'd come back. On Monday, we had another lazy morning before heading to Newcastle for the rest of the day. I always forget how close it is on the train, less than 15 minutes, and have resolved to break out of the Durham bubble and go there a little more in 4th year. We had a nice day shopping, even though Steve was more successful than me (this never happens!), and then went to the cinema to see Les Miserables. We'd seen it in the theater the Christmas before, and although the stage version is much more impressive, I actually found the overall plot easier to follow in the film, and we both came away with all of the songs stuck in our heads for the rest of the week.

On Tuesday evening we walked up to college to meet everyone as I'd arranged a small bar crawl that night to see everyone and catch up. It turned out we hadn't picked the best night for it, however, as there was a football match on and so the bars were full with people watching that, which didn't leave us with many seats. Luckily towards the end of the night, as the match ended, there were more spaces avaliable and we were all able to sit down together in Hatfield Bar. We started playing Paranoia, a game which is hilarious when played right, and it was very funny. We continued the game in Jimmy's, before calling it a night as lots of them had imminent essay deadlines. I was shocked by the prices in Jimmy's, as £1 for a vodka and mixer is a far cry from anything I've found on the continent in the last 8 months! I very much wanted to take them all home and pack them in my suitcase to go to Spain with, as missing friends and family has got to be one of the hardest things about the Year Abroad.




On Wednesday, Steve and I went to the Krispy Kreme cafe, something we'd been wanting to do for ages. We got 3 delicious looking doughnuts and I happily took a huge bite out of my chocolate and sprinkle covered doughnut. A few second later Steve looked at me strangely and said, "Didn't you give up chocolate for Lent?" I definitely had, and so from then on was only able to eat the underside of my chocolate doughnut, and had to hand over the best part of it for Steve to finish :( That afternoon we went on a walk down by the river and up some hills, and had a lovely view over the city. Although it's small, it really is stunning, and I imagine there's a lot of it I haven't seen properly yet. I'd also managed to arrange going out for dinner with two of my best friends, Katy and Chloe. We went to ASK and I finally got to have the goats cheese salad I'd been craving for weeks! It was lovely to catch up more one on one with two good friends, although the highlight has to be Chloe (who is almost a year older than both Katy and I) forgetting her ID when we ordered a bottle of wine to share, then citing the law (putting her degree to great use!) to use Katy and I as her guardians so that she could have a glass with her meal. Great stuff!

The offending bite!

Chloe with her legal guardians, Katy and I.
Thursday, my last full day in Durham, came round far too quickly and Steve and I were already planning where to eat for our last meal together. We decided to go British, as I have enough foreign cuisine in my life at the moment, and went to a lovely little local restaurant called The Cellar Door. The actual restaurant is below street level, but there's plenty of windows so you still get a nice view over the river and it's very light inside. We both had delicious meals, and treated ourselves to the classic sticky toffee pudding for dessert. Divine.We went home and watched a really good film (although I forget the name of it now!) which is a real life story about an American basketball player, before going to sleep.



I got my train the next morning, meaning that we had to say goodbye again. Another negative about the Year Abroad is that it involves too many goodbyes!! However, I did have Archie to greet me again at the other end of my long train journey. I had another short day at home, where I was busy packing for Spain and playing with Archie. I also managed to fit in a cheeky trip to get my belly button pierced, as I'd wanted to do it for ages and figured that this would be the only time in my life I was about to move to live by a beach in Spain for 5 months so took the bull by the horns and just did it. I won't lie, it definitely hurt, but more so as as soon as I got home Archie jumped up on me and of course his paw landed right on the spot. Ouch. I'm glad I did it though, and looking forward to whipping it out on the beach later in summer.

My week at home had absolutely flown by, but I was glad to have had a break, albeit a quick one, as my 24 hour turnover between Paris and Salzburg had been a bit of a whirlwind. Although I knew that the next part of my Year Abroad would be difficult, especially from a language point of view as Spanish is by far my weakest language, having studied it only for two years, I was motivated to make the most of it, and sure that the next part of my journey will go just as quickly as the last!

Saturday, May 25, 2013

Schiiiiiiiiiii-foan!!!!

I didn't want to start another post with an apology, but it seems this is the way it's got to be. This apology will apply to all future posts as well, as it seems silly to continually apologise. Sorry for the delay, and all (inevitable) future delays... I'm trying very hard to keep this blog up to date but struggling to find the time to actually sit down and write down everything but thank you to those who are still reading despite the sporadic updates!!

Now, back to Salzburg for the final final Austria post! Although I was very sad to say goodbye to everyone, I didn't have long to dwell on it as the next day I was going skiing with my host family! We were headed to Wagrain again, where we'd been skiing the weekends before, but this time as it was the Semesterferien (February half-term) we were going to be staying the whole week. As I'd already had a taste of the Austrians intense skiing schedule, I went to the shop in the day before we set off to stock up my personal snack collection, as I knew I'd need all the energy and sustenance I could get to keep up with their pace. We packed up slowly, picked up the kid's friends who were coming along as well, and drove the hour into the mountains. This time as there was another family coming later in the week I didn't have my own room and was sharing with Nani, the daughter. We went to bed early so that we could make the most of our first skiing day the next morning.

After a traditional Austrian breakfast involving lots of meats and cheeses, although I still think it's a little early in the morning to be doing with all of that, we walked to the ski lift. I had bought a pass for a 15 year old again, so half price skiing for me all week! We had a fantastic day of skiing, although the kids were constantly putting me to shame as the flew past me. We drove home and had a quick turnaround (ie. no time for a nap!), before we went to meet up with 3 other families for dinner. The mountain roads we were driving up got higher and higher, and narrower and narrower, until we could drive no more. At this point we got out of the car, and continued our journey to the restaurant by CHAIR LIFT. Yes. Never in my life have I had a to take a charlift to a restaurant before! We had individual ones and they didn't look the most sturdy, but we all made it to the top, which is all that matters. I went for a real Weiner Schnitzel, which is made of veal rather than pork, as I knew that this would be my last one in Austria. It was really yummy, but the best part of the meal was definitely the way home. Instead of taking the chair lift back down, there was a whole pile of sledges outside the restaurant. Yes, we were sledging back to the car. Jakob, the son, and his friends had come prepared with sparklers to attach to the back of their sledges, which looked pretty cool in the dark. As this was my first time sledging I, unfortunately, didn't quite get the hang of how to break or go round corners so had my fair share of crashes. Towards the end they had also mistranslated a sign for 'decline', to 'incline', so I naturally thought, "Oh, I'd better speed up here", only to turn the corner and find a huge downhill slope to the very bottom. At this point it was too late to break, so instead I had to abandon ship right at the end before my sledge crashed into the snow wall marking the end of the course at high speed. Everyone said my face was a picture, and apart from losing control at that point, it was so much fun!!




The next day, Monday, we again had a great day on the slopes, and the other family arrived in the evening. We chilled and played some games in the evening, but didn't get up to much as they were busy settling in and unpacking. Tuesday 12th February, Shrove Tuesday (pancake day), is called Faschings Dienstag in Austria, and it's got a lot more of a carnival feel to it than in England. We saw quite a few people dressed up on the slopes, including a couple in cow onesies, who looked hilarious just casually going down the slopes. In the evening we all wore Fasching Masks when eating our dinner, and although we didn't have any pancakes, I suppose we had the next best thing, tortillas, as we had fajitas for dinner.


On the Wednesday as we were skiing, an Austrian song called 'Schifoan' came on while we were on the slopes. It's a really famous song, and is about someone who basically never wants to stop skiing, and is happiest when they're on the slopes and the sun in shining. At that point I really felt like I was living the Austrian dream, skiing every day, having a house on the most beautiful lake plus a weekend house in the mountains. I mean, what could be better?! Another lush day of skiing and quick turnaround in the evening (no nap!!), before heading out to dinner with the other family that were staying. This time the restaurant we were headed to was not accessible by chairlift, and so the only option was an hour and a half hike, and quite steeply ascending at that. As if 4 days of hard skiing isn't enough for the Austrians! I completely surprised myself and ended up 3rd to the top, and before even sitting down I'd made sure I'd ordered myself a (large) beer! I ordered a Grillteller, which is basically a big plate of mixed meats, and have to say that after the hike and skiing I wolfed most of it down. After a couple of beers, the waiters brought out the Schnapps, and had even filled shot glasses with lemonade for the minors. Luckily we didn't have to walk back down though, as the family said that after seeing how much I enjoyed the sledging on the first night, they wanted to take me again before I went. We walked around the side of the restaurant, and sure enough there was a shed full of sledges. We each picked our sledges, and as this time I had experience on my side, we decided it was a race to the bottom. I had much better sledging tekkers this time, and when the host dad tried to overtake me was even able to hold him off by pushing him onto the edge for a little. As the walk was so far up, we had about a 20 minute sledge down, which was so much fun, and I really feel that in England we could do with a bit of sledging in our lives!




Thursday came far too quickly, and it was already my last day of skiing. It was also Valentine's Day, so before heading out to the slopes I got to open the lovely card that Steve had sent me from England. As it was the last day we went to the Krapfenhutte (essentially doughnut hut) and spend an hour or so there with our Krapfen (and schnapps again!!) before heading home. My last day of skiing was over, but in the evening we had planned to go to the Nachtpiste, which is where the ski slopes are open in the evenings once or twice a week. We went home for a quick snack and then out again. Although I kept up with the Austrian skiing pace for a week, I reckon I was nearing my limit and I'm really not sure how they do this for a prolonged period of time! We bought an unlimited pass so that we could ski into the night, and it was really fun to ski on a floodlight piste and a very appropriate way to spend my last evening in Austria, I thought. We came back for a very late dinner, and before the children went to bed, I gave the family my leaving gifts. I'd made them a photo collage with a collection of the memories over the last 5 months, and a big box of After Eights, as I thought something British would be a must. We swapped photos on our computers and said our farewells. I stayed up with the parents playing their favourite game of picture scrabble basically. I'd had beginners luck earlier in the week, but after a week of skiing I was too tried to think tactically As they've already planned a trip to London for next year when I'm home, and I have an open invite to return on their skiing trips, I know for sure that we'll keep in touch and see each other again.




On Friday morning I was up early to catch the train back to Salzburg, as they were dropping me off at the train station before starting their day of skiing. We said more morning goodbyes, and then the host dad drove me to the train station. All week we'd been playing Assassin which is where everyone is given someone else's name, and they have to kill this person. To kill someone, you have to give them something, and they accept it, without anyone else seeing or hearing. I'd been very wary all week to not accept rouge packages from anyone, so was still alive on Friday morning. My host dad and I were carrying my stuff into the car, when he asked me to take some papers so that he could open the car door, and I, foolishly, did. He then had a huge smile on his face and was like, "Dann bist du tot", meaning that he had killed me :( I got the train back to Salzburg and spent the afternoon finishing packing and tidying my room, before I got a taxi to the airport for my flight home. I even bought some Mozartkugel for my family as a present at the airport, how very lucky they are!

I had mixed feelings about leaving. On the one hand, I felt ready to go as I always knew my time would be limited in Austria and I was looking forward to the new adventure and challenges of Barcelona. However, on the other hand I had really made a life for myself in Salzburg, both with my host family and friends, so it would have been very easy to stay for another 5 months. In any case, I know that I'll be back and that Salzburg will always have a special place in my heart.

Last view of the mountains.