Double Trouble in Zaragoza

Well I am back in Spain, on route to Barcelona, to meet up with some friends from Nowhere before I head back towards the south of France. I so badly wanted to spend a week in southern Spain before I leave this great country, but due to my sudden realization of my time constraints I had to cut it all out and take the most direct route possible to Barcelona. Luckily, Zaragoza was on the way, so I got to stop back there for a few days to revisit my friend Carlos.

When I pushed open the gate and walked into Carlos’ familiar courtyard, I was greeted by three other CouchSurfers, A Dutch guy named Paul, an Argentinean named Federico and a German girl named Nora. They were eating breakfast outside, and after sitting on a train for ten hours with out food, I didn’t hesitate to join them. I was pretty exhausted after breakfast, and was in no mood to hit the city, so we all went to the local swimming pool to get to know each other under the warmth of the morning sun. They were definitely an entertaining crowd. We spent an hour splashing around like children and playing marco polo in the empty swimming pool after doing yoga together in the soft green grass.

I have met tons of amazing people on this journey, but some you click with more than others. It was effortless to spend time with them, and I enjoyed every minute. Later in the evening, we played waterfall with cheap wine. For those of you who don’t know, waterfall is a card game of excessive drinking that works best with beer-not wine. I learned this lesson the hard way in the morning when we discussed the events of the night (most of which I didn’t remember). Lucky for me the most embarrassing thing I ever do when I drink is professing my love for the people I’m with-over and over again. Paul informed me that at the end of the night I called a “team meeting” and as we huddled together under the stars, I (allegedly) gave a speech about how we were all a family now, and that I loved them all very dearly.

That day they all had to hit the road and continue their travels. So Carlos and I said our goodbyes, insisting we would cross paths again somehow.

A couple hours later, once the hangovers subsided, Carlos and I decided to take a little road trip to Huesca, a small town almost two hours away from Zaragoza. Part of the reason we chose such a far away day trip was for me to learn how to drive a stick shift-which Carlos promised he would teach me. We drove half way to Huesca and then pulled off in a large parking lot to practice. Though it made me really nervous driving his parents car, I loosened up fairly quickly and got a hang of it in a heartbeat-after stalling it out two times and once in the middle of an intersection. I was so confident by the end of my lesson that I insisted on him letting me take it on the highway, a request he didn’t hesitate to dismiss.

So we grabbed some food and head into town to stretch our legs for a while. I really liked Huesca. It was small and charming, with cobblestone streets and ancient looking buildings colored brightly with shades of yellow and pink. Not to mention there were barely any tourists, allowing me to actually hear myself think for a change. We only walked around for an hour or so, but by the time we got back to the car there was a small pink slip stuck under one of the windshield wipers. Carlos got stuck with a 200 euro fine for parking in a 15 min. parking zone. Definitely not the kind of surprise one can appreciate. With hanging heads we drove off toward the mountains to see one of the oldest castles in the region, sitting proudly at the top of one of the tallest peaks. It was beautiful inside, and we had a lot of fun climbing on the walls and taking silly pictures.

By the time the day turned into dusk we were both exhausted and hungry. So we hopped into our car and head back home to make dinner. The car, however, had different plans for the evening, and it broke down after only 30 minutes of driving. This was not a good day for Carlos, or the car. But he took it all pretty well. Still, I kept him smiling with nice music and conversation while we waited for the tow truck and gazed into the fields of farmland, all golden from the setting sun. It took about an hour for the tow truck to come, and he took us to a nearby gas station where a taxi was waiting to take us home. Despite the fact that Carlos and I were starving, we were both perfectly content. He spent the hour ride home chatting away in Spanish with the driver while I listened to Elliott Smith, and followed the full moon as it slowly crept higher into the sky.

Even after such a chaotic day, I couldn't help but smile all the way home. Daydreaming about all the unexpected twists this two month trip has taken, I wondered where else I might end up in the two weeks I have left. I have met so many wonderful people, most of which I met by chance and won't see again for many years, if at all. So it's important to appreciate every minute, while I'm here. I'm glad I got to spend more time here before I left. Next stop Barcelona!