Spanish dreams

There is a legend told in the towns surrounding Grazalema National Park. It is about two lovers whose families lived in the same valley of Grazalema and the families couldn’t of been more different. One was Christian and the other Muslim. The son of the Muslim family and the daughter of the Christian family fell in love, but their families forbid them from seeing each other. So the boy would play the Rubella every night for the girl and each tune would signify a different meeting place. They had to keep their love a secret. After they died, the people of the valley, to this day, still claim that they can hear the soft melodies of the boy’s Rubella being played in the Valley of Grazalema National Park.

The sounds of Spanish music being played in the tiny streets of Cadiz paints an enchanting path for tourists and locals to follow. As the music plays, the constant smell of cheese, seafood, and bread makes waiting till 9 p.m. (Spanish dinner time) almost impossible.

Cadiz is a peninsula and her beautiful beaches outline the cities edge and the warm air blows inland from Africa making it a perfect vacation destination for any traveler and Spaniard.

On September 4 the ship arrived in the Puerto de Cadiz early in the morning. Students rushed to grab their passports and head down the gangway. Many took independent trips to as far as Barcelona, Madrid or they stayed close and traveled to Seville, Cordoba and/or Granada.

The city of Cadiz had much to offer. After getting acclimated with the city by going on the Semester at Sea organized City Orientation I was ready to explore.

Ashley, Hans, and I traveled to La Playa de la Caleta, which is right near Castillo San Sebastian. It was Sunday and the beach was scattered with perfectly tan Spaniards, colorful beach umbrellas and flip-flops.

That is one thing about the Spanish — they love their sandals … flat or high heeled. Most of the windows displayed flat canvas shoes, but the majority of the women walking on the street had four-inch strappy heels on. While they are dancing, however, they wear more traditional and conservative shoes that help express their anger and struggle as they pound their feet into the floorboards.

I will always remember Spain for their good Paella, beautiful white towns and gruesome bullfighting.