More Strange Men and Cuenca

Hello all with nothing better to do!

It is I, your fearless adventurer! Currently writing you from my lovely hostel in Valencia. Let us waste no time and begin where we left off.

Day 3: Ended with me returning to my hostel and sleeping maybe one hour the entire night. My anxiety has been a little piqued since I arrived, probably just from being here on my own, the strange man in the park incident didn´t do much to assist that either. After my lack of sleep I got up and began the very, very sweaty:

Day 4: Monday, June 23, 2008.

Off to Cuenca! Holy crap and a half. I packed up my things and headed off to the bus station. I elected to walk about a kilometer to the metro station "Principio Pio" because it was on the line that the bus station was on (supposedly) and walking seemed easier than changing lines half-way along. So, off I go, and I find the station okay, get on the correct subway, and after about 13 stops arrive at the metro station, up the stairs and into the BLAZING heat of the street. I see a map and a sign that indicate that the bus station is just on the other side of the round-about. I walk over, but alas, I do not see an entrace, so I walk around the side, then keep walking, then some more, then.... well it had been 15 minutes and I had now made it entirely around this HUGE building. (Think about it, it took me 15 minutes to walk around it) I am now sweaty and smelly and pissed off, I see some girls also carrying luggage and I elect to ask them if they know where the station is. They tell me they have just been informed that the station has closed.

AWESOME.

We exchange names (I don´t remember them) and they tell me that they are Turkish girls travelling to Salamanca for a Spanish course. We find out where the next closest station is and get back into the Metro. (travelling in subways with luggage is officially my least favourite part of the trip). Luckily, it is only two stops away on the same line we are on. We get off, find the station and all is well. I reassure the girls, who speak better Spanish than me, that I will be just fine on my own and that we can now part ways. I buy my ticket and get to sit for a blissful two hours out of the heat, in the station. I proceed to drink 2L of water, which turns out not to be such a hot idea for the bus trip.

On the bus, I meet another Kate, this one is from Indiana and has been living in Chuenca for 6.5 years with her husband, who she met in Spain while hiking. How Macedonian am I? The first thing I thought when she told me this was "Your family must have been crushed", I did not say this, however, and within the conversation she informed me that she travels back there every few months.

Successful arrival in Cuenca, and because of my harrowing journey in the morning, I elected to take a taxi from the bus station to my hostel. A whopping €8, but it is well worth it. I arrive at El Posado De San José, and can´t believe how beautiful it is. Seriously, just wonderful. There will be photos on facebook soon, so you can see for yourself. I drop my stuff and almost run to the Cathedral with is closing in less than one hour and wont be open in time tomorrow. Again, stunning, and my first Spanish encounter with reliquaries (sp?): for those of you who don´t know, because I didn´t, these are the body parts of Saints. Maybe some blood, or a finger, or a whole hand or leg. Apparently they are good luck (Catholics are not supposed to be superstitious...) though Michael informs me that when they were popular they were just a cash grab (I think that is as true today - to bring tourists). Mercifully, you cannot actually see the items, unless it is just a vial of fluid.

After seeing the Cathedral and the massive gorges of Cuenca, which I think are GORGEOUS (get it? lol) I went and took a much needed shower and had dinner. After a lot of fried food and ham, I went to bed to sleep for a blissful 12 hours.

Day 5: (Today) Tuesday June, 24, 2008.

I decided to sleep in a little, then go down for my buffet breakfast. Mmmmm, and I encounter even more stunning views of the gorges from the restaurant and go to pack up my stuff.

I did not leave ample time though and get to the train station to watch my train pulling away. Poop!

I go to a café for a couple hours and board the next train, which of course, is late by 15 minutes. (Because my original train was right on-time). I get on board and am enjoying myself and the view, when about an hour into the trip an Indian boy approaches me and asks me if I would like some water, apparently this is how you break the ice in Spain. He informs me that his name is Chand (which means "moon") and that he lives in Barcelona, where he is travelling to with his cousins, after a visit to his uncle´s house in Cuenca. After this, Chand is by my side until the metro stop in Valencia.

Chand is very nice, and very eager to learn English. Our conversation is a little awkward as there is a language barrier and he is a strange boy on a train. (I say boy, but he is 21, he is a boy to me.) Possibly because he is younger, or because he is with his counsins, I am no where near creeped out like I was with random park man. We talk about Valencia and travelling and language, and within the conversation there are some odd moments:
1. A point where he tells me that I am beautiful, friendly and very intelligent, but that I am kinda fat and maybe I should go for walks or to the gym. I am not entirely sure if that is what he meant to say, so I don´t take offence, or really pay it any mind. I felt like saying, "yeah I know, but what business is it of yours?"
2. Another point where I mention to him about Spanish children wearing too much Axe, where he branishes his Axe from his bag and proceeds to spray his armits, and then mine. Then taking out his cologne and spraying the both of us, yet again. Again, I could be offended, but truth be told, I probably did stink.

At the end of our train ride he insists on buying me a lemon fanta at a café and his cousins tell me about their love for Cricket. I show them pictures from home and they are impressed that I have an indian friend, and Chand tells me that he thinks Jason is very beautiful.

We get on the subway, then part ways and I arrive here at my hostel in Valencia. It is wonderful, has this computer I can use for free, a kitchen, a tv with DVDs and huge rooms.

Photos later, now I am off to eat dinner.

K-Tackla