Raely Marie: 09/01/2013

Hello Lovelies!!

I went to Cuenca this weekend on a spiritual journey to do some soul-searching, heart-healing, head-clearing, life-exploring stuffs.

What I found was an entire town in PARTY MODE! Viva la fiesta in Cuenca! People were wearing the wine they were drinking; pants, shirts, shoes were not spared and are quite possibly permanently stained with Sangria, bottled tinto de verano, good ole' Don Simone, and who knows what else. Half of the city smelled like a frat house on Sunday morning after homecoming weekend. Pee and vomit smells included. The only real difference was that the whole town from age 3 months to 93 years old was involved.

Plaza Mayor right before the Bull Run (el toro del fuego)

I wandered through the lower half of the city, the more commercialized 20th century, less-party stricken area on my way to my hostel. Hostal de la Luz, fitting for my spiritual journey, as I'm "looking for the light" in my life. The hostel was a bit further away from the festivities, but not far enough away to lack the horns, trumpets, trombones, cheering, and fireworks. The hostel was cute, and two dogs greeted me with wagging tails - looks like I came to the right place. It was a warm and wonderful welcome to a tattered soul. Dogs are awesome. (Don't worry cat lovers, I still love cats as pets too.)

Just follow the little picture of the London-esk looking man waiting for rain... silly guy, it doesn't rain here!

I had a room to myself and even a private bathroom, which was nice. The real gem was the cute window with a view of one of the most beautiful rivers I've ever seen - el Río de Júcar. It was such a vibrant clear river with so much life, you could see the little ducks webbed feet paddling underneath them. I immediately knew where the name of Cuenca came from - if you say Cuenca just right a few times in a row, it almost sounds like ducks quacking. haha. Broma, broma.

The view of my hostel from the river!

The lovely hostel hostess informed me that I needed to (and I'm paraphrasing in English her Spanish directions) "follow the river, cross the little iron bridge - not the stone one, and climb the giant zigzag path - slowly - to the top" where I was to find Plaza Mayor, where all the festivities would be taking place. Little did I know that these festivities were even happening, much less that a BULL RUN (el toro del fuego) would be passing right through plaza mayor.

Just follow the signs of anguish up the giant hill... you'll be fine... really!

The barricades were two fences thick with space in between for crazies, I mean runners, to jump to safety if need be. Sounds like fun to me! (Not!) I have told many people that I have no interest in partaking in any such activities, as running from an angry bull just isn't on the top of my list of things I must accomplish before I die. Mainly because it is important for me to survive after I do things off of said list, but I digress. Mostly the spectators sat on these barricades, young, old, crying, scared, screaming, but not me. I stayed back and stood on the stone wall far away from said protective barricades. Had the bull really been running rampant freely, I did NOT want to be near it!

The protective barriers serving as bleachers.

Luckily the bull was not allowed to run through the city freely, that would be utter madness. Instead la Vaca was paraded through the streets held back by two strong men holding onto ropes tied around the bull's horns, and being lead by who I assume was a trained Matador who guided the bull by pulling it's horns in certain directions. The crowd went wild, literally. They were running, screaming, some jumping over the barricades, some chasing the bull trying to smack it's ass as if it were some football champion who just scored an easy goal. Even the band chased the bull around playing playful taunting music to keep the crowd entertained and the energy high. Although the music was joyful and fun to jump up and down to, I can't help but feel as if the bull was merely annoyed and ready to go home for his afternoon siesta. It was actually quite sad.

Poor bull being showcased around the city!

After the bull came through the plaza and disappeared and circled back, I assumed that the madness had ended. People were still sitting, chanting, waiting, but a few were moseying around, so I thought, "hey, I'll wander around the rest of the city and see what else is happening." I couldn't have been more wrong! I found myself out of the barricades and right in the middle "Bull Lane". When people started running into boarded up restaurants and hiding behind the big bars placed in the restaurants doors, I began to worry. But, idiot-tourist me just scooted to the side.

"I'll be okay" I thought. "Surely he won't come over here" I thought.

Only then did I see the bull coming right out of the main plaza, hurling faster than I had seen before, strait into our zone. He veered right, and headed RIGHT TOWARD ME! I had nowhere to go, I was done for, I was a goner, I was a stupid tourist in the wrong place, at the wrong time. Luckily the bullfighter pulled his horns, perhaps he sniffed out the little american girl and realized the dangers of her cute but stupid ignorance, and saved me from being rammed into the side of a boarded up restaurant. THANK YOU Matador Man!

(On a side note after I realized I wasn't going to die, I'd wished I had had my camera to catch that beautiful and sad creature's photo right before being pulverized to death).

Who knew my relaxing weekend would consist of accidentally being part of a bull run. And here I've sworn up and down I never wanted anything to do with such nonsensical madness! Jerks confusing me, making me think that the bull run was over! Why would you hang out knowingly in Bull City!?!?!

They were right to stay safe up in their balconies!!

I decided to not only head back behind barricades where I knew it was safe, but also to just vacate plaza mayor altogether. I found a back corridor linked to some restaurants and a lookout point and fell upon a giant party tent. At first I felt out of place, alone, not dressed in San Mateo garb, not drunk, not Spanish, and clearly oblivious to how anything worked around here, but food and alcohol brings people together! I sat for a few minutes and broke my technological hiatus to chat with Katherine and check my whatsapp messages. Then I ate the most delicious chorizo-brats I've ever had, gulping down some summer Shandy (Spanish Beer mixed with Lemonade is a common drink in the summertime and now has a bottled version).

My delicious Chorizo-Brat Sandwhich and Shandy beers!

Needing a Siesta I headed back down the mountain to my hostel, to safety, to peace and quiet with the ducks. An old man asked me if I was from Madrid, I don't know if this was due to a newly acquired Madrilena accent, or if he just "knew" somehow. Let's just say he was crazy and made a good guess.

The cute old buildings in the "ciudad antigua".

The other side of the "mountain".

I sat by the river for a long time, and commenced the spiritual part of my journey. I picked up three leaves to release into the river. Each one representing something that I needed to let go of in order to move forward in my life. Each one a burden I would no longer be carrying with me.

My heart felt lighter. I finally felt whole again, my heart has finally opened up and rejoined me. I took a deep breathe in, filling my lungs with the fresh air of a new beginning.

I even stopped to smell the roses. Oh the smell of hot summer roses!!

The river was beautiful, as well as all the little bridges crossing over it throughout the city.

I took a nap at the hostel before heading out again. This time I went to the lower part of the city, stopping at a park full of old people, also avoiding the young heathens. I read my book, in concurrence with their wise decision. I also really didn't want to walk up the mountain again, or accidentally run into my new four-legged angry and horned best friend.

A weird fountain of a boy riding a spitting swan.... It was cuter when the old man and his grandson were playing in it.

A little gazebo in the middle of the park, serving as a jungle gym for little kids.

Wandering around, following the tracks of two girls with delicious looking ice-cream cones, I found hazelnut gelato, and settled down for a nice dinner of pork chops with eggs sunny side up and french fries (This is actually a quite typical Spanish meal).

A little on the salty side, but delicious anyway!

Since I was alone on this trip, I loaned my empty seats to the most adorable group of grandma's on the terrace. I like to pretend that they were a group of disguised party ninjas, guzzling Sangria in their kitchens while the youngens were up top secretly filling their canteens with wine. Grandma's just can't be seen partaking in such outrageous street drinking, one must do that in their own kitchen. I see you over there, sipping your little beers contently!!!

I misread a flier and thought that there would be some sort of ritual-like bonfire up in plaza mayor, so I followed the other little river and climbed up the other side of the small mountain, only to be disappointed that everyone was doing exactly the same thing, except more drunk and more wine-covered this time. I am still pained by the thought of that poor bull being paraded around so many days in a row, so many times a day for these festivities, but tradition is tradition I guess.

These were all over the city, in case you were a big stupid-face and didn't know it was a festival weekend!

The city of Cuenca itself isn't all that beautiful, it's the beautiful rivers passing through it, the mountains, and the ancient city above that gives it it's charm.

Río de Júcar

Some cliffs leading to the "ciudad antigua"

A beautiful fiver walk, where I spent most of my time in Cuenca.

My last day in Cuenca I avoided the city altogether and followed the bigger river out of the city and into a canyon-like valley. Here there were people running, kids riding bikes, dogs playing and a man-made beach, there was something very western USA about it. On my way back to the city and to the bus station to catch the afternoon Avanza bus to Madrid, I enjoyed Oreo and Rocher gelato, Arroz Caldoso, and some lamb chops for lunch.