Very far up North: The Ice Hotel

Not one week had passed after I came back from Malaga and I found myself in the northern most reaches of Sweden, in the mining town of Kiruna. Of course, we did not travel 1,000km to the 67th degree latitude to survey the centennial iron pits.  For some time now, Kiruna Airport has been the scene of international tourists coming to sleep in the Ice Hotel.

Situated on the Jukkasjärvi (part of the Torne river), the Ice Hotel is a 20 minute drive from the airport.  Expecting to load our things on a taxi, I was getting increasingly suspicious as we seemed to be walking the opposite way and closer to the din of barking Alaskan huskies. We would be going to the hotel on dogsled! And what a wonderful way to travel. That is, if we exclude the dog at the back left who managed the art of running on its front legs to take a s#%@ while on the move, bringing a waft of fresh poop over us (at least we were saved from the physical matter). Despite this, it was impressive to watch as the dogs pulled our combined weight across the snowy landscape.

The northern Swedish landscape, home of the Sami

I came to realize that northern Sweden is a vast and empty place. It feels somewhat like being, "beyond the wall" for anyone who watches Game of Thrones. So much so that for the first time, flying back to Stockholm felt like coming to a densely populated area. However, what it lacks in population it makes up for natural beauty.  On a snowmobile excursion we went on, the guide took us to a gorgeous viewing point on the top of a hill. Kiruna and its enormous but deserted open mining pit could easily be made out between the white and green hills and frozen lakes. In the distance, one could see the mountains that border Norway.

The reindeer

It all inspires to think of a time before conquest and geological discoveries divided the land. In fact, after having a Swedish 'fika' (coffee and cake) we sped across a lake at thrilling 100km/h to a Sami reindeer farm. The Sami are (or used to be) a nomadic population of Lapland that would follow reindeer herds according to their migration patterns.  Today's Sami have largely integrated into Swedish society and often live off selling reindeer meat, like our guide.  He told us of reindeer and their near perfect adaptation to the Polar Circle. They have large hooves and always have three feet on the ground while walking so as not to sink in the snow. Their sense of smell allows them to find a special moss, high in energy, meters below the snow. And since everything is frozen the majority of the year, they drink by eating snow. After showing us his animals he lead us to a traditional Sami tent where he made us 'reindeer kebab' as he like to call it - a typical Sami cowboy lunch.

I want one of these

Driving snowmobiles only came second in providing an adrenaline kick that weekend, number one was ice driving.  Taking a step aside from polite wording, it was a hell of a lot of fun! Taking off the electronic systems meant to control the car in slippery conditions and speeding around a corner of a rally plowed out of a snow covered lake and pulling up the hand brake to drift around is what I am talking about. Even if that meant crashing into a wall of snow, facing the wrong direction. 

Posing after tearing it up on the rally

Least adrenaline filled of these arctic activities and yet curiously fun was ice sculpting. We were given a block of ice and a chisel from a Florentine sculptor who had designed the entrance hallway of the Ice Hotel (the Italian is fortunate enough that the girl of his dreams should come from Kiruna - I really hope she was worth it!). Hacking away at the ice, I eventually sculpted a bust of a man with a hole on the top of his head suggesting the absence of a brain. Throughout all of the poor excuses of art I had made during school, I had never been as excited to make something.  The mind becomes filled with ideas of how to turn something as a dull as a block of ice into something creative. Maybe it was just the though of smashing something with a chisel.

Making myself comfortable
for the night

Another question entirely is how one spends a night inside a block of ice. The inside temperature of the Ice Hotel is kept at a constant -5°C, providing the humorous warning, "please don't sleep in the refrigerator".  Well, the truth is that it really isn't that bad.  You sleep on a mattress, covered by reindeer fur and inside a mummifying sleeping bag which is guaranteed to keep you warm. So the biggest problem really is the numbing silence, giving the sensation of being inside a sarcophagus. There literally are no sounds. No cars outside, no drainage pipes, no one flushing the toilet, no voices... and yet, I survive to tell the tale.  

All in all, it was an amazing weekend. I tried a lot of new things and spent some valuable time with family after all that time away. With good weather and temperatures averaging around a comfortable -1°C, the trip up north is certainly worth it.

And so ends my Andalusian Advenuture

Well, after 11 weeks spent living in Malaga, Spain, the time finally came to return to Stockholm. It was a difficult parting. I had certainly become accustomed to warm weather, beach and a general lack of any pressure.  Sunday breakfasts at our usual cafe, sitting in the sun, were hardly a punishment.

Cooking paella at the school

In case I'm conveying the wrong message, I didn't only spend my time dilly dallying in beach cafes.  I was also there to learn a language. In fact, if I do say so myself, my Spanish has improved a lot. Better said, from A2 to about B2 (The EU has created a standardized system of language understanding. A1 and A2 is for beginners, B1 and B2 for intermediate levels and C1 and C2 for advanced language skills). I've gone from hesitating and having to think about everything to simply speaking and applying more complicated grammatical structures to my expression.

The courses were good, but it was the teachers that made the difference.  One teacher in particular, Patricia, practically taught me everything I'm taking away from there. She would thoroughly explain new verb conjugations and vocabulary through her enthusiastic and interactive teaching. Furthermore she provoked us to discuss controversial topics like religion and the death penalty to have real discussion as opposed to talking about reality TV and paparazzi. However, some weeks with other teachers the pace became so slow that it felt like I was becoming worse at Spanish (essentially the times where we would talk about the latter two of the aforementioned topics). Nonetheless, I would recommend the school to others wanting to learn Spanish.

Drinking a "jarra" in Malaga's popular 'El Pimpi'

My knowledge of the language was put to the test when on my last weekend in Malaga, I was visited by good friends from Freiburg - Joaquín, Judit and Borja (my old roommate). Together we ate tapas, went to the beach, drank cerveza, and were up very late at night for activities provided at such times on the weekend. All in all it was too short but I think I speak correctly when I say that it wasn't the last time we see each other. After saying goodbye I gave myself a little pat on the back for having spoken Spanish with them the entire time :)

My fried sandwiches got quite good
towards the end

Leaving was difficult.  Realizing that I will no longer be drinking 5 cups of tea a day together with my flatmates and playing ping pong on the hostel terrace on nice days after school abets a melancholy not so easily amended. I leave Malaga behind with what I came for and much more. A conversational proficiency in Spanish, a host of new experiences and great friends.

My New Home on the 4th Floor

After two months living with a Spanish family I have moved to a shared apartment to accompany four very friendly young women from Poland, the US, France and Greece/Romania who share a near harmonic environment on the 4th floor of a Franco-era apartment block.  The apartment is in the perfect location, across from the supermarket and a short walk from the beach. This is something the girls take to their advantage when they go to their preferred cafe on the weekend to have breakfast and perhaps stay out long enough, if weather permits, to have lunch as well.

The new view

It was an interesting experience to live with another family for such a long time. I can't possibly imagine having smelly young men treading through my home (and you would know what I mean by smelly after walking into the bathroom shared with 3 pubescent teenagers from Dresden). I must say I was quite happy to move out by the end.  Despite my yearning for independence, I can't really complain for what I had there. A breakfast and an excellent dinner cooked by a chef who owns his own Spanish restaurant.  I had a large and colorful room with a view on the Mediterranean and most of the time it was only me living there anyways due to the low season. One thing that did irritate me was the near refusal of the family to talk to me.  Dinners were usually spent in silence as they watched television and I sat lonesome on the dinner table, perhaps accompanied by their 7 year old son, similarly mute. At other times I would mention a topic such as my presentation on the death penalty I had one day and suddenly the father wouldn't stop talking! 

It seems traffic laws have abandoned this road I see from my window

As it is one of my first times living independently and having to cook for myself it is a bit of a weird feeling. However, so far that hasn't really been a problem as they are all more experienced with the matter and often offer to cook for me anyways! (maybe because I dared kill a rather large cockroach in the kitchen for them - which we posthumously baptized Pepe) The one big problem with the apartment is the abundance of a language called English, a tongue foreign to Spanish soil. It seems to be a natural consequence of making good friends, whether in Freiburg or Malaga, the language people are more comfortable with eventually establishes itself as the lingua franca - which is nearly always English.

Eaten from right to left, this nigiri was fantastic

My move to the new apartment coincided with a visit of my mother form Sweden that weekend. It was a delightful time, never too much and always pleasant.  Not to mention the fact that I had some of my best culinary experiences in Spain.  High quality tapas, steak served on a burning hot stone and probably the best sushi I've ever had contributed to a "firework of taste" as my mom coined it.  

City of Cordoba

From the 15th to the 16th of February I went to Cordoba, the last of the three most important Andalusian cities I had to see.  I had heard and read great things about it. Contrary to every tourist's preference of Granada, the father of my host family believes that Cordoba is Andalusia's most beautiful city.  In my history of Spain that I am attempting to read in Spanish, I found a fascination for the city as the capital of the Cordoba Caliphate and prosperous home of all faiths. 

Well, if only the weather would have had shown some sympathy for my excitement. It was pouring rain and windy the entire weekend without breaks. The picture below accurately represents what it was like.

I was extremely fortunate to have been invited by a friend to stay the night in her shared Erasmus apartment. I was given a fantastic tour of the city which, despite the rain, was beautiful.  The old town is incredibly charming and full of inviting cafes and teterias (the equivalent to a cafe but for tea).

As it began to rain harder we sought the shelter of the Mezquita, a cathedral built on top of a great mosque built on top of a chapel. It is with out a doubt one of the greatest achievements of Moorish architecture. The ubiquitous columns built with two connecting arches to support the enormous weight are a sight to behold. As are the attempts of the Catholic Church to convert it into a house of Christ, since the eviction of Mohammed in 1236.  The sides are full of chapels representing saints and scenes from the Bible, not to mention the huge Cathedral in the middle of it all. It is like being transported to an entirely different location.  Even Charles V, the guy who permitted the construction of the cathedral was appalled, "they have taken something unique in all the world and destroyed it to build something you can find in any city." Then again, it's bad publicity to leave your enemy's monument of power unchanged...

One of the many chapels surround the interior of the structure

The Sunday was quite tranquil - a combination of aching heads and inexorable rain. Once enthusiasm was aroused, we went to La Salmoreteca Mercado Victoria. It is an an indoor food market where you can choose from an international variety of food or small, high quality Spanish tapas. I kept it simple with a typical sandwich with jamón and olive oil, which is a simplicity which I am increasingly beginning to enjoy. 

Upon my arrival to Spain, I was amazed my hosts didn't have normal strawberry jam for toast. They did have a special variety of strawberry and onion jam which can be used for some cooked dishes, but certainly not for my toast. So I bought my own jam which stands in the fridge like a blonde, blue-eyed boy in a room full of dark-haired, jamón eating classmates. Nonetheless, I am increasingly like to eat a toast with nothing but olive oil poured on it which actually tastes marvelous.

The three hour journey back to Malaga was quite uncomfortable. The combination of the drinks from the previous night and the necessity to stop in every small village, driving on winding roads on which no bus should drive resulted in a rather unsettling trip for my stomach. 

Día del Espectador

Our cinema of choice: Yelmo Vialia-Málaga

Every Wednesday in Spain, cinemas participate in "Día del Espectador", "Day of the Spectator". All tickets including 3D movies are reduced to half price - effectively €3,90!! Compared to Sweden's 120SEK (€13.40) for a normal film entrance, it is not even a third of the price.  Maybe I shouldn't be surprised, on Tuesday I got a haircut for €7. The cheapest I ever got in Sweden was for 260SEK, €29 - more than four times the Spanish price. In Mainz I could get mine for €15, still more than twice the price. Nonetheless, one thing to watch out for is popcorn and drinks. A medium portion with beverage can cost €5, more than the ticket! As a result, its normally better to eat something before, or watch the movie at a time when you aren't hungry - a difficult moment to find for many!

In any case, my friends and I have been using nearly every Wednesday to enjoy the newest in cinema, and of course, always dubbed in Spanish.  It began with Mandela: A Long Walk to Freedom, followed by El Lobo de Wallstreet (pronounced "Wall-eh-street"), La Gran Estafa Americana (American Hustle), and most recently, Lego Película (Lego Movie). 

The degree to which I understood all of these movies varies.  Lego Movie was by far the easiest where I understood about 85% of what was happening. In comparison, American Hustle was extremely difficult to follow since the majority of the movie is based on its dialogue. I probably understood 50-60%, so basically I didn't really know what happened.

However, the film I enjoyed watching the most was, The Wolf of Wallstreet, for its strikingly brusque and controversial representation of the lives of Wall Street brokers as well as Leonardo di Caprio's excellent interpretation of, "The Wolf". Mandela featured fantastic acting and for those of us who did not read the autobiography, a great insight into Mandela's life. From what I could take away from American Hustle, the film was of a very high quality but requires patience to watch. The essence of the film lies in the intrigue of the plot and the relations between characters - probably best represented in their native language... Last but not least, Lego Movie was a blast.  Filled with clever humor and dashes of satire, it was a celebration of imagination and reminded me of when I would create my own Lego movies as a child :)

To come back to the pricing, one can't help but notice the overwhelming amount of competitive pricing everywhere.  Many restaurants in the shopping mall with the cinema caught on to the half price movies by offering half price food.  For example, there is a montaditos (small sandwiches) place known for it's 100 varieties. On Wednesday all of them cost only €1 and as an added benefit, so does the beer and tinto de verano. Next door, you can go to Burger King and use the the coupons that you receive from the movie tickets.  On the beach in Pedregalejo, the part of town where the school is, there is an Italian restaurant where from Monday to Thursday all pizzas cost €5, down from the usual cost of up to €10. Of course, it isn't hard to imagine that these places are the ones that become completely packed.  Telepizza, a chain similar to Dominoes, had an offer the 19th and 20th of February: €1 for a small pizza, and only for three boring types. The pizza isn't even good, we tried it. Nonetheless, at 20:30 there was a queue of people traversing the entire store and continuing outside. Cheap food is popular everywhere, but I can't help but infer a connection that the economic crisis might have on this money saving craze.