So long, Spain

Granada

I made port in Algeciras. I was waiting at the bus depot when a policeman approached me and asked for my ID. I handed him my passport. He then asked what was in the bag, referring to Plucky's black travel bag which he then bade me to open. I don't think he was really expecting to see a guitar. :) It's funny how Plucky attracts attention.

The bus took me in the early afternoon to Granada where I arrived once again with no plan and no contacts. And it was Easter Sunday. After my previous night’s accommodation in Tangier I was dreading the run-around. I found an information booth and spoke with a really helpful girl who recommended me a hostel in town, gave me a city map (for free - they sell them but someone had left theirs behind) plus directions, saving me having to search on (and pay for) the internet. Miss, you deserve a tip.

Pass the Plucky

Oasis Backpackers was the opposite of my previous night's experience. Firstly they had space. 16 Euros - next to the bar with no windows, but the bar closes at midnight. Hey, the price is right. Wifi internet is free. There's a rooftop balcony chill-out area. Hot showers. A fully equipped kitchen. Free (donation based) walking tours thrice daily. It was so nice to be back in a country where you didn't have to argue for everything and where people didn't lie to you by default. Long live western society, despite its flaws. I took the tour, which was run by an enthusiastic university student. I learnt about the history of the city, walked through the gypsy quarter, took some nice pictures. Alhambra, Granada's most famous attraction, was sold by the city into private hands a few years back. Now you have to pre-book your tickets (sometimes up to several months in advance) which cost €14.30. Apparently 8'500 people visit Alhambra every day, which works out to €44'365'750 being funneled into private hands each year instead of the local government. What a stupid decision that was. I ended up being lazy and frugal, so I never went.

Alhambra

Being a bit worn down from my recent travels, I used the backpackers as a bit of a chill-out space for almost a week. I wrote blog, played guitar on the roof, cooked some nice food, lived cheaply, drank a lot of kalimoxto (bambus) and got up to silly business (see vid, below). Batteries recharged, I was ready again once more for the road.

Master chef Marco explains what to do with old pasta scraps.

Toledo

The bus photobombed us

I made contact with Vicki, a previous couchsurfing guest who was living in Toledo. She put the good word out and organised a couch for me to crash on in Madrid with her friend Laura, a (non-couchsurfing) friend of hers. It's great having contacts.

I took the one-hour bus journey out to visit Vicki in Toledo for a day. We had lunch with her workmates and strolled through the small hilltop town. Toledo was once upon a time famous for its armouries. This is reflected in the wares of the souvenir shops which populate the old town (read: tourist zone). Even full sets of armour are on sale. A non-functional but cool-looking longsword would go for around €200 (I don’t remember exactly).

Things to do in Toledo

Madrid

I didn’t get to see much of Laura and her flatmate while I was there (we went for tapas once), but I washed their dishes and left the obligatory bottle of Hendricks, tonic and cucumbers. The crashpad was awesome, and muchly appreciated. I only really had one day to explore Madrid and caught up with my friend Thomas who I’d met at the backpackers in Granada. We checked out the main sights, the park, the palace, found a lookout perch over the city and had lunch at a friendly bar somewhere. I picked up my things at Laura’s and took the metro out to the airport, flying off to see my girl in Croatia again.

Budapest

The flight didn’t go direct to Zagreb. The cheaper option was a €60 flight to Budapest followed by a €30 train ride to Zagreb (return ticket which, oddly enough, is cheaper than a single - the return portion of which I was able to pass on). The catch was that the flight arrived at around midnight and the train left at 6:15am. I left my prepaid airport-to-city transfer ticket in the airplane, so my alternative plan required waiting for the first train to the city at 4:22am, then somehow transferring to the correct train station using the Budapest metro. I achieved this by wandering into random unlocked offices at the train station and finding someone who understood my hand-signals at 5am. I made it, but not with a heap of time to spare. I stole what sleep I could in the four-hour train journey and arrived at the Zagreb train station, tired but happy to see a certain familiar face again.