The rundown:
-12 hours of work made me feel entitled to a vacation

- I went to Vigo & Santiago with my friends Gareth and Brian
-Vigo (where I studied 3 years ago) holds a special place in my heart

- We couch surfed in Santiago and met two amazing hosts
-My Spanish is still shit.

            So after 12 hours (one week) of brutal work, standing in front of a class and talking about myself in English, I decided I was in much need of a well deserved vacation ;) It just so happened that Brian, a friend from Colorado was coming to visit.  Brian had arrived on Friday night; I met him in the park, and we walked to my friend Gareth’s apartment. We remained pretty relaxed that night- a bit to drink, hanging out, and sharing stories of our travels. The next day Brian, Gareth, and I caught a taxi to the bus station and booked our tickets to Vigo (Spain)  with 5 minutes to spare. We road the bus through winding, rolling, green, lush mountains for about an hour and a half before pulling into the Vigo bus stop.

            We decided to first find a hostel. On the way, I had mentioned Santiago was more of a college city and might have a better nightlife than Vigo on Saturday nights.  So eventually, when we found the hostel, we just used it to store our baggage while we checked out Vigo for a few hours.

            I had studied in Vigo for a month three years ago. So as I walked past old fountains and statues (that used to be the only reference points I had when I was studying there for a month in 2010), I felt a sense of nostalgia. Drunken memories reappeared as I walked down the  “party street” that was less than a block away from my old apartment. I smiled as I strolled past my old grocery store and when our bus pulled up to the beach where I first sunbathed topless.
            Thinking back now I feel a great sense of accomplishment. Vigo had been my first real independent adventure. It was a time in my life when I was high on proving myself to myself, something I think I am still trying to do. But, as I walked down those familiar streets I reaped the reward. I lived through the awkwardness of not knowing what someone is saying.  I survived budgeting my money while still enjoying fresh octopus and a beer. I concurred my fear of fear; I looked it in the eye and said “Welp, this is happening. Love it or fight it”. And when I look back, and I see that I did it, that I accomplished all I set out to do, that feeling of pride, independence, and personal growth…that feeling was the reward (three years in the making). So needless to stay, Vigo holds a very special place in my heart, and returning, even if for only a few hours, restored a sense of power that I had been lacking during my first few weeks in Ourense.

            But as I say, we left Vigo that night and caught the bus to Santiago. Santiago is famous for the “Camino de Santiago”(also known as “The Way of St. James”), a pilgrimage made by tens of thousands each year. There are various route but most people walk for weeks or months before arrive in Santiago.  You can spot that Pilgrims all over Galicia by the shell on their backpacks, walking along roadsides, staying at little overnight cottages along the way. Santiago is the end point, with the grand cathedral supposedly being the burial sight of St. James’ remains.

            When we arrived to our hostel in Santiago we freshened up for the night and went to eat a late supper, after supper we wandered into the center of town to find the night life. We were greeted with a fantastic view of the illuminated cathedral and the light of the city streets. We stood in front of it a moment and took it in. We then made our way into “the oldest pub in Santiago”. The bar was in an old mansion and the stone walls and short basement ceiling gave rise to its age. After a beer or two we were walking through the streets deciding on a new bar when a group of guy starting practicing there English with us. We spent a good portion of time talking with very talkative, very friendly, very drunk group of lads, but when we saw they were lighting a crack pipe before heading to another bar, we decided to split ways and head back to the hostel and call it a night.

            We had previously arranged to stay with a couch surfer that evening but wanted to check out some of the city before meeting up with him. After wandering around the shops and getting a free chakra realignment on the street, we met Don (a different couchsurfer we weren’t staying with) at the cathedral.  We asked for his recommendation on a restaurant, and he took us to a lovely little place where we ordered different “tapas” (appetizers). When the meal was finished Don got up and talked to the waitress. When he sat back down we asked him what he was doing. He replied  “Nothing, just a girl I like”.  I didn’t buy it, and when we all started reaching for our wallets he said, “No, no, we can go now”. The bill had to be over 70 euro; we had known this guy for less than an hour, and he owed us nothing. But, for no reason other than wanting to be kind, he paid for our whole meal, a gesture I hope I never forget.

            After, we walked across the city to a one of his favorite bars and enjoyed a midday drink, with the sun keeping us warm and shade keeping us cool. As night drew nearer I reminded everyone that we would be needing to go meet the OTHER couchsurfer we were staying with.  Don asked for the address so he could help us find it. I showed him the message I had received on Couchsurfing with the directions. He looked at it and replied “no this is my house”. I figured I had accidently hit the wrong message to show him, but when I looked again I saw that it was the correct one. He looked at the message and then realized our host for the night lived in HIS building one floor above him! So, we ALL made our way to our Host’s house.

We said goodbye to Don on the 4^th floor, and walked up the 5^th to knock on Mauricio’s door. He welcomed us in. Mauricio informed us he was moving to the US in a week.  When we had arrived he had been sorting and organizing his books. he offered us to take any that we liked, as he would just be getting rid of most of them when he moved. We each browsed the selection and took a few with us. Later that night, when we were all a little hungry, he offered to take us to an Italian restaurant. And because Don lived in the SAME building, we invited him with. The five of us walked down the street, the two couchsurfers engaged in a full Spanish conversation (with the three Americans listening, trying to keep up). We all enjoyed a delicious super, a beer and some desert before heading back to call it a night. The next morning we loaded our bags. Then, as Gareth and I headed for our Orientation conference that was being held in Santiago, Brian caught a train to Madrid.

             Orientation was painless enough, but mostly because I just zoned the whole thing out. It was all in Spanish, and my English Professor was there to listen to anything that was really important. As much as I tried to stay awake for the ride home, the weekend of traveling, super boring morning and heavy lunch but me right to sleep. I woke up when we were pulling into Ourense.  I hoped out of the minivan and thanked my professor. The next morning I began week 2 of teaching.