EL CAMINO

London

2008-12-05T02:23:00.000-08:00

Here are some random photos from a weekend trip to London a few weeks ago. Since most of you know London better than I do, I don't need to sell you on it. We went to a couple shows (Aida and Wicked), visited a few museums and ate some great food. I'm looking forward to going back this weekend.

Las Islas Canarias

2008-12-05T01:56:00.000-08:00

After I finished the pilgrimage, I went to the Canary Islands for a few days to recover. I visited the two islands closest to Africa, Lanzarote and Fuerteventura. They are two of the least populated islands, so good weather and beaches are probably the main attractions. Lanzarote also has an amazing national park called Timanfaya. The park consists of almost thirty volcanoes that create an almost other-worldly landscape. NASA came to the park to test equipment before they landed on the moon because supposedly Timanfaya is as moon-like as it gets on Earth. It is also so hot in some places that you can only visit on camels.

Before I went to Fuerteventura, I got online and looked for the cheapest hotel I could find close to the beaches. Most of the hotels on that island are all-inclusive and, for that reason, all-the-way-out-of-my-budget. I decided to stay at the one hotel I could find in a town called Corallejo. It was literally the most disgusting place I have ever slept. It made my grungiest apartment in the DR look like a polished royal residence. There was no water or electricity or sheets. I was sitting on my bed when a couple burst into my room by mistake because my lock didn’t work either. Then it hit me that this hotel may or may not be a house of ill-repute. So, I left as quickly as I could to find a new place. Unfortunately, that was the only hotel in that town so I spent most of the night wandering around the streets of Corallejo. I eventually found a little restaurant called Da Uli that my travel book recommended with this description: “You won’t pay much more than 5 Euros for a full meal here, but the food is worth one million dollars.” Truer words were never spoken. It was run by an Italian man who spent his time cooking whatever he felt like on that particular day. I don’t know how much I ate that night (I was there for several hours watching three football games) but it wasn’t enough. It was one of those magic dining experiences that changes your whole perspective on life. Needless to say, the meal made up for the trouble at my hotel.

Botafumeiro

2008-12-04T04:09:00.000-08:00

The Botafumeiro is one of the coolest parts of the Pilgrims' Mass. It is a giant "incensory" or "smoke expeller" in Gallego. It is 1.6 meters in height and it weights 80 kilograms. As you'll see in the video, a group of clergymen use a pulley system to swing it across the transept of the cathedral. It's sort of like the circus, but for pilgrims.

Por Fin, Santiago

2008-12-03T10:48:00.000-08:00

I started the final day of the pilgrimage in Sarria, about 115 kilometers from Santiago. Considering the distance I had covered in the previous seven days, 115 kilometers seemed like a cakewalk - a really cold, beautiful, green, rural cakewalk. Galicia looks a lot more like the English countryside than the plains of Castilla y León. Spain’s diversity is one of the main reasons I love this country so much. Each region has its own climate, its own cultural traditions, and, in several cases, its own language. I hope that diversity has come through in the pictures I’ve posted on this blog.

In late October, Galicia is wet and cold, but it is also gorgeous. It seems like there are mountains and rivers everywhere, and there are more cows than people. The morning I was crossing these mountains, there was thick fog filling the valleys like soup. Above the fog the sky was blue and the sky was shinning, but in the valleys there were times I couldn’t see twenty feet ahead of me and it was cold. Did I mention that it was cold? The hair on my hands and my face froze and I had frozen snot under my nose (think Dumb and Dumber - I thought about it and it kept me laughing all morning). As I carved my way through this fog, I made a couple stops. Portomarín was my favorite of these fog-stops. It was already an important stop along the Camino in the eleventh century. During the twelfth century, the entire city was dismantled by doña Urraca, queen of Castilla y León, as she tried to stop the advance of her husband Alfonso el Batallador, king of Aragón. You can still see the markings her troops made on the Church of San Nicolás so that they would be able to reconstruct it after the war had finished.

After passing through dozens of little farming towns, I finally made it to a hill called el Monte do Gozo where you can see the city and Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela for the first time. During the middle ages, pilgrims fell on their knees, sang hymns and gave thanks for the protection they had received along the Camino. I didn’t see any modern pilgrims following suit, but I could tell they were equally moved in their own way. I was there at sunset and it was one of the great moments of the pilgrimage for me. As I looked out over the city and saw the towers of the Cathedral, I felt like I had accomplished something worthwhile.

It took me over an hour to finish the final five kilometers of the pilgrimage and arrive at the city center. When I finally found a hotel with a free room, I showered, put on some clean clothes and headed for the Plaza del Obradoiro, the heart of old Santiago. I bought something to eat in the square and then I just sat there for a long time and looked up at the cathedral. It is an impressive building and it must have been overwhelming for medieval pilgrims who had spent months on the road dreaming of it. Although the current façade dates from the first half of the eighteenth century, the previous one, which boasted the famous Pórtico de la Gloria, must have been equally impressive.

Early the next morning, Helen, Javi and Ann (my Spanish family) met up with me outside the Cathedral. I was thrilled to see them again. They have really spoiled me while I have been in Spain and it was great to be able to share part of the Camino with them. After I picked up my official pilgrim’s certificate (La Compostelana), we went to the Pilgrims’ Mass in the cathedral. During the mass, they announced the pilgrims who had arrived that day and I was the only one from the United Sates. Then, as part of the mass, the archbishop gave a inspiring sermon about looking after others. He said that God speaks to each of us in a different way, whether it be through books, music, nature or other people. That inspiration, according to the archbishop, always encourages us to lift and bless others. I was just waiting for him to say “when ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God.” After the Mass, we headed out to the coast to Finisterre, the most westerly point in Spain. During the Middle Ages, pilgrims would come out to Finisterre after they had been to Santiago. They would burn their clothes, bathe in the ocean and dive for a scallop shell (the symbol of the pilgrimage) to prove to people back home that they had in fact completed the pilgrimage. Although I didn’t do any of these things, it was definitely worth coming out along la Costa de la Muerte to see the fishing villages, eat some great seafood, and watch the sunset over the ocean.

So, there you have it. That was my experience on the Camino de Santiago. Eight days and eight-hundred kilometers. It was so much more challenging and rewarding than I had imagined it would be. I loved it.

El Bierzo, Yellow Arrows and the Sticky-Fingered Queen

2008-12-02T15:17:00.000-08:00

As I have described in earlier posts, there are yellow arrows all along the Camino that point the pilgrims towards Santiago. Most of the time it is easy to follow them, but when you enter some of the bigger cities, it is harder to know if you are headed the right direction. Sometimes the paint is faded. Some pilgrims’ hostels use them to lure you to their establishment. I don’t know how many times I got lost, but the morning I left Ponferrada sticks out in my mind above all of the others. After peddling around the city center for a half hour trying to find a yellow arrow, I finally gave up and decided to just follow the first pilgrims I could find. The first man I found looked as if he had started the Camino in the twelfth century, but he seemed to be walking with a purpose so I followed at a distance. After a few minutes, it became clear that he was as lost as I was. At a stop light I pulled up next to him and suggested that we stop at a newspaper stand to ask for directions. The man at the newspaper stand made a vague hand gesture and told us to “follow that road.” We tried that, but it didn’t seem to be taking us anywhere so we stopped and asked for directions again. After this scenario repeated itself forty-billion times (take that Meikel), the old devotee of Santiago raised his pack as high as he could over his head and then threw it at the ground as if it were the roads fault that he was lost. Then he and shouted, “Pero, es que no hay ni una p#$* señal!” (It’s just that there are no (expletive) signs!) I roared with laughter (in my head of course). We eventually found a road, not the Camino, unfortunately, and we parted ways. I spent most of that day riding my bike across El Bierzo looking for a little yellow road to get me back on track. At the time, it was pretty frustrating. Looking back on it now, however, I’m grateful it happened. I got to meet lots of interesting people and I couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day for a long bike ride.

Like so many other experiences I had on the Camino, this day I spent chasing yellow arrows increased my gratitude for the gospel. As I crossed El Bierzo, I felt like I was experiencing Lehi’s dream for myself. These little yellow arrows are like the iron rod for pilgrims on the Camino de Santiago. They have been painted along the road to help the pilgrims arrive safely, but each individual has to decide how closely he or she will follow them. It is easy to lose your way. You might try a shortcut and discover that it has taken you into “forbidden paths” and that you are lost. Big cities require special care. There is lots of noise and traffic, and if you aren’t paying close attention, you might not see the yellow arrows or you might follow a counterfeit arrow to a hostel where you had never planned to stop. If you leave the Camino, it can take time to find your way back, not because the arrows have disappeared, but because you have separated yourself from them. I am very grateful for all of the little yellow arrows we have in the gospel: the Gift of the Holy Ghost, the scriptures, prayer, prophets and apostles, priesthood leaders, families, the temple, etc. Like my pilgrim friend, there are so many people who feel frustrated by a perceived lack of directions. As members of the Church, we don’t have to feel that way. We all have access to divine guidance that will never lead us astray.

Returning to El Bierzo, I finally found the Camino once again in Villafranca. From there I made the climb up a second mountain range to O Cebreiro, the gateway of Galicia. O Cebreiro is one of the oldest stops along the Camino. It also is associated with one of the great miracles of the pilgrimage. Towards the end of the thirteenth century, a farmer from the area went up to O Cebreiro to hear mass during a fierce storm. Although the priest looked down upon the farmer, the sacrament was transformed into Christ’s actual blood and flesh in recognition of the farmer’s sacrifice. When Isabel passed through O Cebreiro in 1488, she tried to take away the holy cup that had held the Savior’s blood, but they say that her horses refused to move until she returned it to the sanctuary. After hearing this story, I decided not to steal anything from the church as a souvenir.

Roman Roads and the Knights Templar

2008-12-02T08:41:00.000-08:00

While I was in León, I found out the Helen, Javi and Ann were going to meet up with me in Santiago when I finished the pilgrimage. This was very good news. I hadn’t seen anybody I knew for a while, so the thought of seeing some of my favorite people was pretty exciting. This also meant that I would have a ride back to Madrid instead of having to haul my bike around on a train or bus. There was just one catch: I needed to get to Santiago at least a day earlier than I had planned. As a result, my last three days on the Camino were the most rigorous of the pilgrimage.

The first fifty kilometers from León to Astorga were flat, but beautiful. It had snowed the night before so the air was especially crisp and clear. Thanks to Steve who outfitted me for the pilgrimage, I had all the outdoor performance clothes I needed to enjoy it. This section of the pilgrimage follows the ancient Roman road between Legio (León) and Asturica Augusta (Astorga). Unlike some of the previous segments of the Camino in Castilla y León, this area has lots of vegetation so it didn’t seem nearly as monotonous.

Astorga is a great place. It has an amazing cathedral (I know I write that about every city in Spain—come see for yourself), an Episcopal palace designed by Antonio Gaudí and a museum dedicated to Chocolate. When the Spanish brought chocolate back from the New World, some of the first chocolate factories were built in Astorga. This makes Astorga a World Heritage Site in my book.

Just beyond Astorga is a little town called Castrillo de Polvazares. Its red stone streets and houses with bright green doors have remained essentially unchanged since the sixteenth century. There weren’t a lot of people there that late in the season, but it was still good place to pound an entire roll of cookies.

After Castrillo de Polvazares, the Ancares mountains finally break up the plains of Castilla y León. The sixty kilometers of the Camino that cross these mountains were some of the most scenic of the entire pilgrimage. The road up through Rabanal del Camino to the Cruz de Hierro (the Iron Cross) was steep, but the reward, a thirty kilometer coast down the backside of the range, was amazing. I stopped at the end of that descent in Ponferrada, the last urban center before Santiago and the capital of an especially fertile region of Spain called El Bierzo. In 1178, the Knights Templar built an enormous castle on the Boeza River to protect the pilgrims that passed through this valley. I didn’t get to sleep in the castle, but I did stay in the Templar Hotel which was probably just as good.

Leones

2008-12-01T17:40:00.000-08:00

Because of the knee problems I had experienced the day before, I decided to bike along the side of the highway from Carrión de los Condes to my next big stop, León. To be honest, following the highway had been a temptation ever since I left Roncesvalles. The pilgrims’ road is rough and uneven. I spent a good part of each day carrying or pushing my bike rather than cruising along some asphalted path like I had imagined before I started. Whenever the pilgrims’ road crossed the highway, I had to recommit to authenticity. On this specific day, however, following the highway to save my knee seemed justified. It turned out not to be the best decision. I expected the highway to be easier; it certainly looked that way from the pilgrims’ road. I discovered that day, however, that there are real benefits to following the pilgrims’ road. Although the highway was smoother, it was actually much more dangerous. There was quite a bit of traffic and I had to ride as close as possible to the edge of the road so I didn’t get hit by any cars or semis. Because there were no arrows indicating the way towards Santiago along the highway, it was much easier to get lost. I took a wrong turn in one of the towns and added a few unnecessary kilometers to my journey. Worst of all, I traded the historic little towns along the pilgrims’ road for the truck stops along the highway.

On a positive note, however, I had loads of time to think about the spiritual applications of the Camino that day and I learned something. We can often choose between doing something right and settling for the easy way out. When what we are doing really matters, however, there are rarely acceptable shortcuts. I thought the highway would be easier on my knee, but with the extra kilometers I had to bike when I got lost, my easy day ended up longer and less interesting than I would have liked. The real road is rocky, but you won’t get lost, you’ll learn more from the experience, and you’ll enjoy the ride.

León is one of the most historic and beautiful cities in Spain. Although it was founded by a Roman legion nearly 1000 years earlier, León’s golden age came after 910 A.D. when it became the capital of the Reino de Asturias, the most important Christian kingdom in the Iberian Peninsula. During the High Middle Ages, no other city along the Camino had more churches, convents, monasteries and hospitals than did León. Among these are the Basilica of San Isidoro and León Cathedral. The Basilica of San Isidoro is famous for its Royal Pantheon (frequently called the Romanesque Sistine Chaptel) whereas the cathedral is famous for its more than 1,800 square meters of stained glass. They are both worth a visit.

Light Listening

2008-12-01T08:08:00.000-08:00

The day before I left for the north of Spain to do the pilgrimage, I started thinking about how much time I was going to be spending alone and I decided I would need some new entertainment to keep me going, just like the pilgrims of yesteryear. I got on itunes to buy some music, but then I rediscovered the existence of audiobooks and I went nuts. Most of these were fascinating. Some were not.

The Plains and Pains of Spain

2008-11-26T11:56:00.000-08:00

By this point of the pilgrimage, I was getting used to the routine. I woke up every morning at about 7:30, ate breakfast (two napolitanas and a box of juice) and hit the road by 8:30. I rode about 100 kilometers per day (just over 62 miles). That really isn’t very far on a road bike, but since I was riding through fairly rugged terrain most of the time, it took me about seven hours a day to reach my next stop. At night I showered, washed my clothes, went out to eat, called home and slept. For the most part, my body (except the knee part of my body) held up pretty well.

This segment of the Camino took me through the heart of Old Castile. This is probably the part of the country that most people think of when they think of Spain. You could stand on a can of tuna fish and see forever. Because it is such a flat area, I had hoped that I could make it to my destination (Carrión de los Condes) quickly so I could have a day of rest. Things started off auspiciously too. I had great weather and I was really cruising for a couple hours. As the day started to warm up, however, I started to feel sharp pains in my right knee. I had felt sore since the first day, but this was different. My knee tightened up so badly that I couldn’t peddle with my right leg anymore. I fell off my bike and just laid by the side of the road for a while hoping that it would loosen up, but it didn’t. Eventually, I decided that I would have to walk to the next town and find a doctor. Each step was an adventure. I was lucky that nobody was around to see my hobbling along, yelling out loud every time I bent my right knee. When I got to the next town, Castrojeriz, I found the pharmacy (there was no doctor in Castrojeriz) and asked the pharmacist for the strongest drugs she had. She looked at my knee and said I had tendonitis and that I would have to take a few days off. That wasn’t an option, but fortunately she gave me some cream and a packet of horse-sized pain pills that kept me going for the rest of the pilgrimage.

After I had taken a generous dosage of pain medication, I climbed back on my bike and kept on peddling. I really enjoyed the rest of the day and I actually didn’t arrive in Carrión de los Condes too late. Carrión was a major stop for medieval pilgrims. During the twelfth century, it had twelve churches and an equal number of pilgrims’ hospitals. Many of these buildings have been preserved and I really enjoyed wandering around the town and seeing them. I also had a great meal with a group of German pilgrims that night which helped me to fully recover from my breakdown earlier and to get ready for the long ride I had planned for the next day.

Tierras del Cid

2008-11-24T11:51:00.000-08:00

On the third day of the pilgrimage I awoke in Nájera, the medieval capital of La Rioja. Invigorated by the crisp autumn air, I hopped on my bike and started towards two of the mythical stops along the Camino: Santo Domingo de la Calzada and Burgos.

During the late eleventh century, Santo Domingo dedicated his life to the Camino. He cleared forests, carved paths, built a bridge over the Oja River, built churches and hospitals and personally cared for the pilgrims who came through La Rioja on their way to Santiago de Compostela. He performed his greatest miracle, however, in the town that now bears his name. While a family of pilgrims from Cologne was staying at the village inn (not the restaurant) a servant girl fell in love with one of their sons. Frustrated by the lack of attention she received from him, she hid a golden goblet in his bag and reported him to the authorities. The young man was arrested, condemned and hung. The distraught parents continued their journey to Santiago. On their way back to Cologne, the parents passed through the same town. To their great astonishment, they discovered their son still alive, hanging from the noose. The young man had stood on Santo Domingo’s shoulders while his parents completed their pilgrimage. The parents ran to tell the governor what had happened, but he refused to believe them. “Your son is as alive as this chicken I am eating,” he responded. The chicken then miraculously came back to life and sang. I liked Santo Domingo de la Calzada very much. There were quite a few pilgrims there the morning I arrived and it was great to visit with them and the owner of the albergue. He had been to Utah before and he was excited that a Mormon kid from Utah would come over to Spain to do the pilgrimage alone in October. He liked Utah too, but because of an outstanding traffic violation, he feared he would never be allowed to return.

Leaving behind Santo Domingo and the undulating vineyards of La Rioja, I crossed the Oca Mountains and entered the unending plains of Castilla and Leon. This part of the Camino is drier, flatter and less populated then previous segments. Burgos, however, is spectacular. Like so many other towns along the Camino, Burgos was founded during the ninth century to attract French settlers to the Iberian Peninsula. After the creation of the Reino de Castilla y León, Burgos became one of the most important cities in the kingdom. Burgos was the home of el Cid, the great Christian warrior who conquered Valencia. It was Franco’s capital during the Spanish Civil War. It is famous for being one of the greenest cities in Spain and it is also one of my favorite places to visit because of its magnificent cathedral, strong sense of tradition and delicious food. Although I was only in Burgos for an evening, I ate out three times. My favorite meal was at the Hotel España. Pan, ensalada mixta, sopa de ajo con morcilla, lomo a la plancha, natillas. You just don’t get to eat like that every day.

Vineyards

2008-11-24T09:32:00.000-08:00

The second day of the pilgrimage took me from Puente la Reina through La Rioja to Nájera. As some of you may know, this is one of Spain’s main wine-producing regions. It was beautiful. Puente la Reina is one of the most emblematic towns along the Camino. It is also a great example of a town that dues its existence entirely to the pilgrimage. During the tenth and eleventh centuries, the kings and queens of Aragón, Navarra, and Castilla y León founded “burgos de francos” to attract pilgrims and settlers from across the Pyrenees to the Iberian Peninsula. Many of these settlers were artisans or merchants who brought a great deal of economic activity to the medieval Spanish kingdoms. The Camino, the Reconquest and, indeed, the consolidation of Spain as a modern nation-state were to a greater or lesser extent the results of these settlements cropping up across northern Spain. Puente la Reina takes its name from a famous six-arched Romanesque bridge. It was constructed in the eleventh century to allow an increasing number of pilgrims to cross the Arga River.

Leaving Puente la Reina behind, I spent most of the day riding my bike through vineyards. I’ve never had wine, but these vineyards in La Rioja seemed to be top-notch. The first major town I came to was Estella la Bella. Like Puente la Reina, Estella was founded entirely for the Camino. The first guide written about the pilgrimage, the Codex Calixtinus (twelfth century), described Estella as “brimming with delights.” It still is.

The next major city along the Camino is Logroño. Situated on the Ebro River, Logroño is the second of the five large cities along the pilgrimage. It was also the only one of the five that I had never visited before, so I was looking forward to seeing it. I arrived during the siesta so not a lot was open, but it is a beautiful city and it was great to take a load off in the plaza in front of the cathedral and eat some good bocadillos (sandwiches on good bread) and yogurt. I pretty much repeated that menu every day of the pilgrimage (and that isn’t a complaint).

I left Logroño at about three in the afternoon and started the last stage of the pilgrimage I had planned for that day. As usual, I got lost making my way through the city. These last thirty kilometers on the second day of the pilgrimage were some of the hardest for me. It had rained and the vineyards I was riding through had become giant mud pits. I would have been pretty upset if it weren’t so beautiful. I think this was the exact moment I realized that the pilgrimage was going to be a lot harder than I had expected, both physically and mentally. I had worked hard to be in good shape and I could easily handle a 100 kilometer day, but the challenge was stringing several of those 100 kilometer days together. It was also more challenging than I had expected to do the pilgrimage alone. I would frequently visit with other pilgrims, store clerks, hostel workers, etc., but it was difficult not to have meaningful conversations or anyone who understood my sense of humor.

Returning to the mud-bath, I was just starting to feel sorry for myself when Javi sent me a text-message saying “Que no se diga que los de Provo son unos flojuchos!” (Don’t let them say that people from Provo are a bunch of weaklings!) This was the motivation I needed to slop on through the mud towards Nájera. From that point on, whenever I felt like I was going to pass out, I would think “No soy flojucho!” (I’m no weakling) and keep on peddling.

The Initiation

2008-10-27T11:43:00.000-07:00

Bueno amigos, I have just returned from my pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. I didn’t have internet access while I was on the road, so we’ll pretend I’m doing the pilgrimage now and I’ll post a little every day so you can see what I have been doing.

My first big obstacle was getting from Madrid to Roncesvalles on the French boarder. I found out at the last minute that I couldn’t take my bike on the train so I rented a car instead. It was a circus. I had to drive up to Roncesvalles and leave my bike at the hostel then turn around and drive an hour back towards Madrid to take the car back and then take a bus back up to Roncesvalles again. Fortunately, it all worked out.

Roncesvalles is the starting point for the Camino Frances in Spain. The main attraction is the eleventh century monastery which has been one of the main stops on the pilgrimage for nearly a thousand years. During the sixteenth century, the monastery fed about 30,000 pilgrims per year. For you francophiles out there, Roncesvalles is also where the Song of Roland takes place. Whether you are Catholic or not, every pilgrim goes to the pilgrims’ mass in the middle of the night in Roncesvalles. There were about twenty pilgrims the night I was there. The priests presented the mass and then they called up the pilgrims to the front of the church for a special blessing. They blessed us that the Apostle James (Santiago) would be our shade from the burning sun, our shelter from the rain, our strength against fatigue and our protection from harm. It was an amazing experience.

The first stages of the pilgrimage took me through the Enchanted Forest. The fall colors and mountain villages were spectacular. These little towns in Navarra may not be what you expect from Spain, but that is the wonderful thing about this country. Every region is very unique. I probably stopped every two minutes to take a picture of some random cow or cottage.
After I crossed the Enchanted Forest and left the Pyrenees behind, I came to Pamplona, the first big city of the Camino. Pamplona is a great place to visit and not just during the San Fermines (the Running of the Bulls). I had been to Pamplona before and thought I would be able to get through it pretty easily. False. All along the Camino there are yellow arrows or shells that show you where to go. Most of the time it is pretty easy to follow them, but in the big cities it is more complicated. Pamplona was the first of many times I got seriously lost on the Camino. I spent an hour trying to make my way through the suburbs and get to the Cathedral. Along the way, I had my nearest to death experience. I was cruising through town on my bike looking for the arrows and not really paying attention to the road I was on. Then, suddenly, I was flying down an enormous set of stairs and I thought "huh, this pilgrimage is going to end sooner than expected with a trip to the emergency room." I’m pretty much retarded on a bike and there was no way to stop. Miraculously, I was able to stay on the bike and even make an adroit landing spin at the bottom before I came to a stop at the street light. It seemed like everybody in Pamplona was staring at me right then so I tried to look as nonchalant as possible so they wouldn’t know how close they were to witnessing my untimely death. After another three hours of biking (and getting lost) I made it to Puente la Reina where I spent my first night. Needless to say, I was pretty enthusiastic about getting a bath and going to sleep.

Elder Benito

2008-10-16T02:12:00.000-07:00

The past few days have been dedicated to getting Dani ready to enter the MTC here in Madrid. The missionary who baptized Javi, Stew Nelson, and his family came over especially to see Dani off. As usual with missionary departures, it has been a busy mixture of emotions. On Tuesday, Dani was set apart at the Stake Center and on Wednesday, Elder Benito entered the MTC. Everybody is going to miss him, but we know that he is going to be a terrific missionary and that he is doing the Lord’s work.

Cuenca and Karaoke (!)

2008-10-11T15:09:00.000-07:00

Early Friday morning Dani, two of the BYU girls and I went out to Cuenca. Like several other cities in Spain, Cuenca is known for it’s dramatic setting on a cliff. We didn’t actually do that much tourism, but it’s a beautiful city and the fall colors were amazing.

We also visited a national park called La Ciudad Encantada (the Enchanted City). The park has hundreds of giant rock formations that look like animals to some people.

As soon as we got back from Cuenca, I went out with Carolina and some of the other young single adults to celebrate Raquel Calderon’s birthday. Our first stop was Hard Rock Café. It was a lot of fun to see some old friends and get to know some new people. It was also the first time since my mission that I looked around and thought “hey, I’m the only American here.” After four hours at the Hard Rock, we went to a karaoke bar. At first I couldn’t believe we were really going to go do that. Most Spaniards seem to work pretty hard to avoid doing embarrassing things in public so karaoke, in my mind, seemed like the antithesis of all things Spanish. False. It turns out anybody can enjoy karaoke if you get them drunk enough or if they are Mormons. Make sure you check out the video of one of my favorite performances of the night!

Mercado Medieval

2008-10-11T14:27:00.000-07:00

Alcala de Henares puts on a medieval fair in the old quarter every October. There are lots of stalls set up with random crafts and, of course, food. It's all pretty expensive, but it's great to see so many people out with their families and enjoying a fair just like they did in the days of yore. Here are some hot shots of the mercado.

Day 1

2008-10-11T13:45:00.000-07:00

I've arrived in Spain and things have started off well. Javi and Dani picked me up at the airport and it has been non-stop action ever since. I've really been spoiled. The Benito family has done everything they can to make me feel at home. Adrian and Dani are sharing their room with me, Dani has given up his bed the week before he leaves for his mission in Belgium and Helen even bought me fresh milk. Our big goal for the day was to get Dani all outfitted for his mission. Where do you go to outfit a missionary in Spain (or get anything for that matter)? El Corte Ingles.

After we finished shopping for mission apparel, we walked through old Madrid. I got to see some of my favorite spots of the city including Puerta del Sol and Plaza Mayor. Madrid is spectacular at night and surprisingly safe for such a big city. We also had doner kebabs. Those of you who have had them before know how special these little pouches of goodness are.

We were also lucky to catch an amazing protest in Plaza Mayor. They were dressed in some sweet white jump suits and they had other-worldly sounds blasting in the background. I still don't know what we were protesting, but I'm pretty sure I'm against it.