After a quick 30 minute Ave. ride, the three of us wandered into a small, empty train station. Looking through the windows one could easily tell that we were not anywhere near downtown Segovia. We walked outside and found two buses. I strode up to the second bus and asked the man, “A donde vas (To where are you going)?” He looked back at me with a childish smirk and replied “Donde querria ir (where would you like to go)?” After a few more playful jabs I learned that he was in-fact headed straight for the Aqueduct, perfect.
The sky was a spotless blue, the sun’s rays penetrated through my coat, giving me a much appreciated warm and toasty feeling and the breeze ruffled my hair. Once my body was able to feel the effects of a strong coffee, I would be good to go.
The aqueduct was just one hundred yards from the bus stop and so our day began. My dad, who is a lover of all things man made and mechanical, thoroughly enjoyed examining the greatness of this man made feat. Staring up at the perfectly aligned arches he asked me, “Leslie, can you imagine asking an engineer to create something as grand as this but without the help of a computer?” The fact that these huge structures were built without the help of modern day technology is really something incomprehensible. How many times did they make mistakes and have to start over?
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| The Aqueduct of Segovia |
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| Beautiful Segovia |
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| The Cathedral. |
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| The Alcazar |
Wandering through the rooms, my mom decided to go over and look down on the city of Segovia from one of the large windows. I watched her as she was walking over to the window and to my surprise she kept going, going, and going until POMM! Her forehead collided with full force against the immaculately clean window. Hoping that she was not in too much pain, but unable to control ourselves, my dad and I hooted and hollered over her misfortune. What a sympathetic father, daughter pair we are, huh? My dad then launched into one of his many ideas saying that the window should be rigged with some sort of monitor that is able to detect forces of impact. When something with enough force strikes the window an invisible light should blink on and let the poor sap know that they are the 3,483rd person to have smacked their head against the glass. To say the least, my mom was not as amused as we were.
As our early afternoon was coming to an end, we settled down for some lunch before heading back into Madrid. For some reason unknown to me, my dad asked me to ask our waiter if he was a Bruce Springsteen fan. As I popped the question the man standing in-front of me with long dark curls and muscular forearms gave me a quizical glance. My dad then pointed to his belt buckle which then triggered a hearty laugh of surprise and appreciation. His belt buckle had the emblem of, “The Boss,” which for those of you who might not know, is the nickname of Mr. Springsteen.
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| Lunch:) |
I accompanied my parents in the metro the next morning and walked them to the ticket counter. Had two weeks flown by already? Several big hugs and kisses were shared and then I left the two adults in hopes that this time they would make it to their right gate;) I know I must sound like a broken record, but I am truly in a state of wonder when I think about the time that I was able to spend with David and Wendy in Spain. I am filled with copious amounts of joy knowing that my parents are seeing and doing things that they probably never pictured themselves doing. I cannot hardly wait to look back on these times and reminisce with them about all the fun memories we made in March of 2010.
Thursday and Friday of last week I spent recuperating from the busy two weeks with my parents and then Saturday morning came and I was off on another adventure. Saturday’s game took place in Tenerife, the largest of 7 Canary Islands in the Atlantic ocean, also known as the “Island of Eternal Spring.” The early morning flight took about 3 hours. I could hardly believe that the flight would take that long, but considering that the islands are right down next to Africa, it made sense. Unfortunately, the weather was not as sunny as it had been in Madrid, but the breeze was still warm as it rolled in off the ocean’s waves. When we arrived at the hotel, we dropped our bags in our rooms and then went out exploring the boardwalk before our pre-game meal. Grass, shrubs, flowers, palm trees, everything was a vibrant color of green. Not the type of green that I loved so much in Switzerland, but an electric green that was all it’s own accord. The streets and buildings were fairly clean and well kept, nicer than my memories of Hawaii, the Virgin Islands and Ibiza. The beach was one thing that I was not prepared for. My jaw hung on its hinges as I looked down the black coastline. The sand covering the beach was black, BLACK! Due to past volcanic activity, the sand was more of a pebble base and very dark in color. Cool.
We watched a couple surfers as they flirted with the waves and then followed our empty stomachs as they lead us back to the hotel.
The game took place in a gym that was a bit hotter than what we were used to and I was sweating bullets by the time we had finished with warm-ups. I wanted so badly for our team to dominate and play as if we were playing in our home gym, but it did not happen. Once again, the little guard from Indiana did a fine job of lighting up our defense. On a positive note, we did a pretty darn good job of keeping all of the other players at bay, but it was not enough. Our downfall was not necessarily our defense but our offense. We could not put the ball in the ocean if we wanted to. With 2 minutes left, the game was 56-54, bad guys. In a matter of just two minutes, we allowed them to score 5 more points, finishing the game at 61-54. Frustrated, we loaded back onto the bus.
As we rode the bus back to our hotel, our spirits were given an unsuspecting lift. Every other team that we needed to lose that day had lost, which meant that we were still in the running for making the playoffs. Now, however, we really needed to start winning because our 2nd chances were finally on their very last threads.
Dinner was delicious and in no time my Spanish teammates along with the coaching staff were back to feeling like themselves and planning the evening’s events. I tagged along for a couple hours as we hopped from bar to bar and then had to call it quits. We had to be down stairs in the lobby of our hotel at 5:30am and I was already tired enough from the days travel and the game. I woke up several hours later to the sound of a knock a the door. Marta Cobian was just coming in from the night. I looked at my cellphone and the illuminated numbers read, 5:00am. The girls had just partied all night long and had come back just in time to gather up their suitcases and head downstairs. I really am convinced that there is something in the blood of my spanish friends that allows them to party hardy, no matter what the conditions.
We arrived in Madrid on Sunday morning around 11:30am. My week of events had finally come to an end.
Leslie’s Loose Ends:
“Leslie, estas cortando mis alas.” These were the words that Charly said to me as I left the party group on Saturday night. In english, this term says “Lesile, you’re cutting my wings,” or in other words, “you’re holding me back.” Ha, my bad, Charly.
I went to a Wax museum on Sunday. There were wax figures of everyone. Kings, queens, writers, painters, singers (Michael Jackson, The Beatles, Elvis), Mary Poppins, Michael Jordan, The Simpsons, Obama, Lincoln and JFK. I had never seen such a spectacle, they all looked so real.
Vermouth is a very typical pre-lunch drink amongst the elders in Spain. If you’ve never tried it, I would recommend it if you like sweet wines.
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| Vermouth! |
hasta luego,
Leslie
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