Viva Espana!

Espana. After 9 days at sea, it was well worth waking up at 6am to see the ship come into port. In the pitch black, the small flickering lights slowly turned into the harbor, cathedrals, four story buildings and the glorious city of Cadiz. We were anxious to get off- our sea legs kicked in immediately and for two days it felt like we were still rocking, swaying or in constant motion.

We helped ourselves to pitchers of sangria, took a tour of the city but decided we could be our own guides. After hours of walking on cobble stone, speaking mucho espanol (somehow I am the only one of my friends that can speak a word besides ‘si’ or ‘ole’) and eating churros con chocolate, we returned to the ship to meet for our flamenco/bullfight excursion. We headed an hour outside the city and were greeted with more sangria and authentic tapas. The bullfighting show was actually one of the saddest things I’ve seen. I just felt so bad for the baby cow and maybe it’s because I don’t understand or appreciate the art of bullfights. However, the flamenco dancers were phenomenal. There is so much passion, emotion and sensation involved with the dance. I wish I felt an ounce of that or had the skill to tap my feet so hard and feel every beat race through my body.

Thursday morning we took an early train ride to Sevilla- the most historically romantic, enriching city I have seen yet. We checked into the hostel- Samay- and it was actually nothing like what I imagined it to be. We were all in the same room and it had linins, free internet, towels and a shower with hot water. We locked up the passports and headed out to explore. We went straight to the futbol stadium and bought tickets to the Sevilla vs. Valencia futbol championship game for later that night. We even bought some Sevilla jerseys to add spirit. We met up with our friends from CU, Michelle and Megan, who are studying in Sevilla and started our evening off by watching the sunset from the rooftop of the hostel. The game was intense and so uplifting- the Spaniards were so full of spirit. When Sevilla scored, they hugged, kissed and the entire crowd was up in their seats. There was only one score board and no cameras on the field to see play backs or anything- you were forced to keep your eyes glued to the field and honestly that’s how it should be. It’s weird that I’ve gone to sporting games and actually watched part of it on the tv screen. Anyway Sevilla won with a field goal kick with 3 minutes left. The city raved and we headed out into the Sevillian night life to celebrate.

Friday we walked the entire day visiting endless cobblestone roads and taking any turns we felt. We went to the Cathedral of Sevilla- the 3rd largest cathedral in the world. I just stood with my head tilted up. The ceilings were so unbelievably high, the air was still and cold and the entire building was musky. We entered every room and I just wanted to know what they were all used for so long ago. Every wall, every pillar had artwork and sculptures. So much time, energy, thought and patience went into building the cathedral it was such an honor to step inside. We climbed the tower that overlooked the entire city and got to the top just in time as the bells rang (which was hands down the loudest thing I have ever experienced).

Later we did like the Spaniards do and took a little siesta before venturing out to a flamenco bar and another local discoteca. It began to rain but as we ran through the streets soaking and slipping we just laughed- we were running through the streets of Spain in the rain with our best friends. Nothing, not even pouring rain, could stop us. We danced the night away and well into the morning just like Spain notoriously is known for. With less than 2 hours of sleep, we headed to the train station and made our way back to Cadiz. We walked around the city a little more, got more churros and finally headed back to the ship to get there before deporting time at 1800.

It was the quickest 4 days of my life and with little to no sleep I actually feel fine. The adrenaline kept us going, the slow moving city kept us guessing the next adventure and I wouldn’t have wanted to miss anything by sleeping.

As I sit in my outside double cabin that is the last room on the port, bow side, I just felt the engine rev up. We are moments from beginning our next leg of the journey: Morocco. Until next time…

The First Adventure

I'm looking forward to spending the next 4 months on a boat because I honestly never want to fly again. ever.

I was delayed for 4 hours yesterday in Austin, Texas. An older Raider's Football fan, I met on my flight, offered to buy me a drink during our delay and for once I was happy to say "sorry I'm only 20."

Apparently Saturday morning is prime time to fly to Florida and take a cruise. So me and every one's grandparents (honestly everyone was 65+) cruised into Ft. Lauderdale at 9pm- 4 hours after our scheduled arrival.

Abby and I stayed up all night freaking out and watching ABC Family movies (Cinderella Story and The Notebook- couldn't get more perfect)

But now we are stuck in Ft. lauderdale. They first delayed our flight and now cancelled it. So here we are- excess baggage, feeling like we're already in foreign country, worried about not even getting on the ship in time but at least we have met 3 other SAS voyagers (and I just keep saying- thank God Abby is here with me now). I've used my stern skills for flying (thank you Uncle Buzz) and talked directly to the Spirit Air representatives and tried to get answers. It's amazing how dysfunctional a company can be- and as I've learned you can get a million different stories for one simple question. But I'm remaining calm and I know this is just the beginning. There are hundreds of things that can go wrong and probably will but you have to be easy going to travel. Besides my back and shoulders killing me from carrying my bags, I don't feel tense at all. Rather I'm laughing, taking pictures and vowing never to fly but just cruise.

I thought my first adventure would occur within the first 9 days at sea- I'm thrilled it has already begun.

These Dreams Don't Sleep When It's Cold Outside

Semester at sea is so close I can actually smell the oceanfront. Maybe it's cause I have officially started packing or been taking those damn typhoid pills for a six days or because suddenly I can say I leave this weekend.

I always knew I wanted to go abroad. Thanks to my fabulous Rossi grandparents, I developed my traveling addiction very early in life. Sailing throughout the Mediterranean at 15, I discovered a new layer of myself- I was filled with confidence, adventure, and the desire to explore beyond horizons. The travels continued as I became very stubborn about going to school out of state, headed to Kenya twice in high school, and tried to always have a future destination stirring inside. Studying abroad just seemed like a natural part of my college journey.

I thought about studying in Italy, Spain, even Holland but as I heard more stories from abroad students, I was always fascinated by the SAS voyagers. Their experiences were the ones I admired and had pictured in my mind. I knew that semester at sea was the program for me.

Since being accepted in July, SAS has been a rather highly discussed subject in my household. We can't really get through a dinner conversation without the topic popping up or a family gathering without someone questioning my journey. Unfortunately it hasn't been the happiest of conversations (mostly because it's costing me a large fortune to go) and my dad hates traveling so he really has never said a positive thing about my trip (or my cruise as he likes to call it). But I honestly don't care. This experience has nothing to do with my parents or their opinions of why I'm going. Merilee doesn't get it either but she knows this is something I've wanted to do for as long as she can remember. She knows that my dedication clearly has shown the value I've placed on SAS. This voyage, this embarking on a new chapter of my life- is actually about me.

I'm feeling about every emotion possible at this point. The pictures online, the idea of living at sea, getting those last minute items at Target have all released so many endorphins I think the happiness and joy is spilling out of my soul. But the moments of saying goodbye have left me in acute sadness and nervousness. The idea of not being able to just call my dad on my walk home from class or sending Keeley a text about the mimes roaming Boulder or IMing someone who lives down the hall or even meeting a friend late at night to curl up and watch a movie- the these simple interactions have thus defined so many of my relationships are forced to be put on hold. "Traveling is an addiction and it is very difficult to maintain and sustain relationships when you are obsessed with going away" (Wild Writing Women: Stories of World Travel)

It's so true. I'm addicted to that escaping experience and feeling the world at your fingertips but I'm also dangerously addicted to my family and friends around me. I know I will be okay and I know that what lies ahead is only full of more magical moments and relationships to enhance my life.

And so here I go. With a fully loaded backpack, a fresh passport with blank pages to fill, 43 malaria pills, my journal and a few pictures of the people I leave behind (but oh how do I wish they could come along), I embark on my next journey.