Two Things I Dislike

O ye acid reflux of the soul! That which makes me spew forth rotten words like foamy ocean spray on a cliff-side. Encumbrances to my well-being and mental fortitude, hindrances to my happiness and rank perpetrators of peace; you have replaced the roaches and mosquitoes of Louisiana! Name yourselves burdensome beasts that wander the sky and pavement, spying, conniving, giving, taking , squawking and hassling. Step forth beady-eyed seagull and quick-handed flyer hander outer!

First the seagull, he that roams the sky as a happy partner of the ocean, disgracefully countering the soothing sound of its waves with a blood curdling eruption of senseless chaos. SQUAWK! I despise your beady eyes and sharp, food stealing beaks! Beach rats with wings, I can think of few more horrible things!

Then there is the flyer-hander-outer person, you that averts your eyes while probing into my personal space with your capitalist waste. I do not want your advertisements, and neither does anyone else that accepts your offerings without a second thought, like the trained robots that we sometimes are. I do not blame you, though, for I realize that it is not your fault, but rather the institution that you and I are both a part of, one that squeals for extra profit by littering the earth with its desperate attempts to attract the extra customer. How many of this papers must be passed from hand to hand to trash can with the rapid efficiency of a well-oiled machine before we do away with that horrid routine! Never! Sadly, it will never happen. If only we could train the seagulls...

Monte O Pindo

Last Sunday 3 friends and I hiked a small mountain on the western coast of Galicia, between the towns of Finisterre and Muros. I first saw what the locals call the "Mount Olympus of Galicia" a few months ago on one of my countryside viewing tours with Irene, and I immediately and inexplicably fell in love with it. The road to get there winds majestically between the mountainside and the expansive Atlantic ocean while giving you views of the many small fishing towns that dot the landscape.

The trip was a grand success, and made possible because my roomie Guille let us borrow his car. Here is my friends Bridget's account of the trip on her light and entertaining blog.

It was the epitome of a spur-of-the-moment trip because we didn't know we would have the car until the night before, in which we also had a big and rowdy majority American party to celebrate a duel birthday. Things ended for me around 5 a.m. and we had agreed to hit the road by 10, meaning I had to get up early to get the car and then pick everyone up. Bridget was laying the orderly law down the night before, and so I assumed that they would be waking me up at 9:30. Low and behold, it was me waking them up at a quarter past 10, after I had reluctantly gotten out of bed, thrown some stuff together and made my way to the car to pick up Dan. We did hit the road by 10:30, though, equipped with my mental image of the map to get there. Needless to say, that map disintegrated about halfway there and we pulled over to ask someone for directions and unknowingly receive one of the best memories of the trip. The guy looked like he belonged in a cheap cologne magazine ad (I mean that respectfully). His hair was almost shoulder-length, jet black and slicked back, coupled with a light brown leather jacket. He was nice as hell, but as soon as he realized we understood him, he let loose with a barrage of hints, tips, and cheat codes on how to go straight all the way to the coast. I contemplated hitting the gas and leaving him behind, but I would have felt petty and ungracious. We listened to his elaborate re-tellings for about 5 minutes before being able to wiggle our way into a U-turn to hit the road again. The car immediately erupted into laughter and it already felt like it was going to be the great day that it was.

We made it to O Pindo without further hazard, although my erratic driving plummeted Dan into a head-in-lap carsickness that paralyzed him for the last 30 minutes of the ride. That was resolved by free tapas in the local cafe that we got, along with directions to the trail head, from the super nice bartender. I still can't believe we got sausage, paella, and a few chicken wings for free. We walked through the town, along this inlet until arriving at the cemetery that marks the beginning of the ascent.




The hike was great, and filled with super cool rock formations like this one...








So many rocks....














So many cool rocks...

I managed to get off some good pictures in the sunlight before the clouds rolled in....

But then it began to look like this...

But even this atmosphere was impressive, and by the time with reached the top we couldn't see anything at all around us. It was quite freaky and otherworldly. We made it down 5 hours later and took a dip in the ocean to shock our sore muscles to life again. Then we headed to a town nearby to have a spectacular dinner of local food and drink. Tack on a ride home with an awesome mix of songs from my roommate and it was one hell of a good Sunday.

Southside Swang

I remember those hot, wide streets near the rumbling train tracks. I remember those corner stores and dark-skinned characters always ready to surprise you with a smile or a sinister stare. Twilight lathered swimming pools and 32 ounces of Miller High Life to end a day of bike riding and couch visits. Porch dwelling and grass watching filled the hours in between class and work. That often ignored, but frequently enjoyed, sound of a jubilant accordion makes me wish now that I was capable of teaching people how to 2-step, but instead I can only stumble my way through it while pretending I know what's going on. Oh roux! you dirty brown concoction that is the beginning and end to so many meals in that humid state. How could I wait 24 years before making you for the first time, thousands of miles from where you inspired me. Louisiana, you're like a friend that I never tried to make, but then one day I find myself telling you all of my secrets, although I'm just beginning to listen to yours.