It was bound to happen one of these days. The worst travel day ever, which in hindsight truly wasn't that bad, but in the moment it certainly felt like it.

We should have known better than to book a 6:45 am train out of Granada, but we had a long travel day ahead of us including a connecting bus, a taxi ride to the port and the ferry across to Morocco. An early start helped give us more options for the many ways the day could go. We also HAD to be in Fes by Monday evening because we were meeting Karen and Ron there. (YAY!)

We had really become accustomed to the late night mentality of the Argentines and the Spaniards. Let me rephrase that...VERY accustomed to the VERY late nights. We were now on a regular schedule of eating at 10 pm, and finally going to bed around 3 am. And yes, this is very normal.

So, of course, we both have trouble falling asleep because we went to bed so early and by the time I fall asleep, it's nearing 4 am. As soon as I woke up with a start, saw the sun streaming through our window, I knew we had missed our train. Turns out we had missed it by nearly 2 hours.

A quick scramble out of bed and Brian began Google searching later trains and the bus schedule, while I finished packing up our things. Mad at ourselves for wasting money, we saw that a bus left from the station at 9:30, was more expensive than the previous train, but would get us to our connecting city only an hour later than planned. Grumbling, we hit the door and grabbed a taxi and arrived just in time to buy tickets and make the bus.

When we arrived, we expected to have just 15 minutes to buy another bus ticket to get us to Algercias, where the ferry crosses directly to Tangier. But the schedule on the window showed the next bus not leaving for 4 hours, guaranteeing a missed ferry. We quickly realized we had looked at the online weekday schedule, not Sunday's schedule.

We searched for the public bus schedule, but couldn't make reason of how many stops it would take or even where to pick it up. Confused, we walked back to the window to purchase the later tickets, where the man asked which time we wanted and he promptly handed over tickets that left at 3 pm. YES! We are back in the game! 5 pm ferry is within sight again!

With a little breathing room, we grabbed a snack to get us through the rest of the travel time and caught our bus out. Upon arrival in Algercias, the bus dumped us off on the very outskirts of town and our arrival coincided perfectly with siesta. Not a cab to be seen for our entire walk from the bus "station" to the water while it started to rain and the wind became intense. So intense, that I would occasionally be moved by the wind catching my backpack.

We ended up missing the entrance to the ferry station because it looks more like the car entrance only and walked all the way around the building until we arrived at a fence blocking any entrance at all. Back around to the car entrance and then the skies really opened up.

There are actually two companies that run ferries, not one like all the research says and they alternate leaving times. We purchased our tickets to leave in 45 minutes, and we spent the majority of that time watching as the water churned, the wind whipped and the rain came down in sheets. This wasn't going to be a great channel crossing.

Boarding runs 40 minutes late and we realized why as soon as we made the run from the terminal to the ferry in the pouring rain, dodging the cars they were loading from the same side as the people. They do customs on board the ferry. One man was stamping all 300 people into Morocco during a "40-minute" crossing. The reason for the delay, on top of the weather, is that when the boat docks, there are still people needing to be stamped in.

I immediately got in line before the boat even pulled away and spent the majority of the crossing hanging on for dear life with my fellow waiters as we tried to maintain some semblance of a line. We rocked, we swayed, I got up to the front and Brian joined me, and then the guy in front of us threw up. (Thankfully, Brian and I both handle motion sickness fairly well and did not join the masses in the sickness.)

Weary and staring at the horizon to maintain our iron stomachs, we finally docked with a passport stamp and were so thankful to be on solid ground.

Then, Tangier hit. Stepping off the boat becomes a game of tout dodging. No, we don't need a taxi. No, we don't want to eat in your family's restaurant. No, we don't need a tour guide. Yes, we know where we are going.

I had intentionally worn a skirt to the ground and had long sleeves on, but the walk to the hotel was brutally uncomfortable as men stared at me and I realized how few women I actually saw. I fell behind Brian quietly and was thankful to get to our hotel.

We decided to walk to the medina just to say that we had been there and were immediately attached to a friendly local who just wanted to "chat." Yeah, right. Uncomfortably knowing we were about to be taken for a ride, he refused to leave us and we followed him as he wove us deeper and deeper into the medina until we had no choice but to let him finish the crazy tour which included such astounding Tangier highlights as "there are a lot of cats in the medina" and "this is a barber shop" and "my friend has a very clean restaurant." Gee, thanks.

Pissed off, Brian finally just shouted enough and handed the guy a few Euro to get him to go away, but of course, that wasn't enough. 2 more dollars and we walked away while he asked for more money. "Please my friend, it was a good tour..." Like little troublemaker boys who over use "Ma'am" so are the men of Morocco in their use of "my friend."

Good lesson learned for us, but it put the final dagger in the worst day ever.

We walked quickly back to the hotel and ate dinner there, tired and frustrated and hoping this bad taste of Morocco wouldn't last into Fes.

When we re-read the events of the day, we are actually fairly proud of ourselves. Although it was frustrating, we still managed to keep our composure with one another and got to our destination on the day we needed. We really felt like seasoned travelers, no longer letting small issues become big ones and figuring things out as we go.

Spain wasn't on our original itinerary, and neither was Morocco. When we realized the cheapest way to get on to Europe was a direct flight from Buenos Aires to Madrid, we shrugged our shoulders, smiled and said, "Spain, here we come!" We are glad we got a short 10-day taste of Madrid and Granada and also the bonus that was to come-Morocco with Brian's parents!

We arrived in Madrid after a 12-hour flight and while we couldn't check into our hostel, we did the next best thing and headed to the famous San Gines Cafe for their Chocolate con Churros-a Spain staple.

Madrid is lovely and it's easy to get lost in the atmosphere of old buildings. We spent 4 days in Madrid, which is longer than most travelers, and we still felt like we could have stayed much longer.

We enjoyed all of the obligatory sites, including the Reina Sofia, the Prado, Buen Retiro Park and the many Mercados, including San Miguel.

We also splurged big time and went to a Real Madrid game, which was a once in a lifetime experience. Hala Madrid! We had such a great time watching an incredible match.

We enjoyed a great dinner from El Buey, where you cook your order of oxtail on a sizzling plate placed before you. Delicious. We were introduced to the Spain-favorite summer cocktail, tinto de verano, a mixture of red wine and lemon Fanta.

Our bus trip to Granada was like the Twilight Zone, with people just sitting in random seats and getting into arguments about it, a guy behind us whose phone rang as soon as he hung up from the last screaming conversation, and a boy behind us who kept asking for English breakfast in Spanish on repeat.

Granada is a great little city, full of streets with twists and turns and a great culture of true tapas. While Madrid serves tapas, they don't include them with a drink. In Granada, you order a drink and out comes a tapa. You could technically eat for free, but you'd be seriously hammered. Tapas also range from giant portions to just a sampling of olives, but most of them are pretty good.

We loved Granada's vibe, which is hipster and edgy and lively. We took in the obligatory flamenco show, which is so touristy and the gypsy-style of singing is just terrible. As terrible as this is to say, it sounded like dying cats accompanied by guitar. Others seemed to enjoy the show. Maybe we were a bit jaded by our tango experience in Buenos Aires.

One of our favorite experiences, was of course, a dining experience, at La Oliva. Francisco, the owner, takes you on an 18-course tasting experience, showcasing some of Spain and Granada's favorite dishes. It was a lovely evening. Make a reservation early as he only hosts a few tastings per week and seating is limited to under 15.

We also spent 2 days at the Alhambra, and it really does live up to the hype. The palaces and the grounds are simply incredible.

Alhambra Tip: Book tickets at least 4 weeks in advance to ensure you get the combination of visits you want. Take the C3 Bus from Plaza Isabel to the top where there is a kiosk across from the cafe. You can retrieve your tickets here with the credit card you used to purchase.

Spain is definitely a return trip place for us, especially the northern regions. We are so glad we headed south though for this trip and experienced Granada, an often-skipped city.

Let's be clear. I do not speak another language.

But, for as long as I can remember, people have asked me, "what are you?" Ummm...like American? A mixture of ethnicities like so many others in the U.S. Truly I am German and English, but when I tell people this news, they are always incredulous. No! You don't look German or English. Italian-yes! Israeli-yes! Cuban (when I'm rocking a good tan)-yes! You name, I've been "it." I joke with Brian regularly that I should have been the female Jason Bourne.

So this brings us to the utter disappointing factor about me. I am not the female Jason Bourne and the people of South America and Spain and now Morocco are disappointed in me.

I don't understand what people are saying when they walk straight up to me and ask for directions or when they totally ignore Brian's much better Spanish request for information and provide the answer directly to me, nodding vigorously and speaking a mile per minute, or when I ask something in what I supposed to be very broken Spanish and their eyes light up and they begin a full conversation with me.

We've been stopped countless times on streets for people to ask me a question and the looks on people's faces when Brian answers the questions for them is one of pure shock. Or when ordering at a restaurant and I begin to attempt an order and totally muck it up, the waiter asks me a follow up question in Spanish, but asks Brian what he wants in English, as though my fumble was just me being a bit spastic.

In Buenos Aires, three separate times I disappointed people asking for confirmation of a street and when I replied with a firm "No entiendo," they replied with "No es Porteno?" Nope, not a local.

In Madrid, we were buying metro tickets at the airport and a man behind us kept asking how he could get to a certain point in the city, "Lo siento, soy tourista." NO!

I actually feel really bad when this happens because I took Spanish, but never retained much. It's not easy disappointing several nations with my lack of lingual skills. Maybe when we get back I can focus on Spanish or French or Italian, because if I'm going to please one, I have to please them all!  

This post is a throwback and long one.  We just got back from Chile for Thanksgiving Holiday, but it made me reminisce about our trip last year to Ireland.  

We LOVED Ireland.  Ireland is beautiful, but the people are truly the gem of Ireland.  I don't know if there is a friendlier bunch of people than the Irish.  

We arrived in Dublin on 11/21 via AerLingus.  This was a smooth, yet miserable flight, led by lead flight attendant, Aiden O'Sullivan, who every single time the seat belt sign would come on would interrupt sleep, movies, you name it to remind us: "Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, the captain has turned on the fastened seat belt sign, please return to your seat and buckle your safety belts."  Every. Single. Time.  Aiden O'Sullivan, if you ever read this-shut it on an overnight flight.

Immediately did the touristy thing and headed to the Guinness Storehouse.  With the ticket price, you get a pint, either at the famous Gravity Bar offering 360 degree views of Dublin or at the Pour Experience.  Tip: Get your Guinness at the Pour Experience, learn how to serve one the true Irish way and take it with you up to the Gravity Bar.  

 

After the Guinness Storehouse, we headed to Vicar Street to see Sweeney's Men.  This is true traditional Irish music, we had 2nd row seats and Brian was in heaven.  And I…I fell asleep.  The first few days are always rough for me with time changes.  So he did the noble thing and took me back to our hotel.

Our first stop out of Dublin was to a city called Kinsale, whose sister city is Newport, RI.  Along the drive, on the "wrong" side of the road, we stopped at the Rock of Cashel.  Not a rock-definitely an old monastery from the 12th Century with very interesting history.  

Kinsale is a quaint and beautiful town, full of great restaurants and pubs.  We had an amazing meal at the highly recommended Fishy Fishy-red seafood chowder, broiled brill and monkfish- followed by pub-hopping around town- starting at The White House, a fabulous bartender introduced me to the best cider in Ireland-Stonewell Cider, a local craft cider called Finnbarra outside of Ireland http://finnbarra.com.  If you have been to Ireland, Bulmer's in the only cider available in most pubs-served on ice.  We moved on to The Greyhound and finally Oscar Madison's where we danced all night to trad music and enjoyed the "craic" with the locals-enjoyable conversation, gossip, etc. 

11/24- We woke up to head to Charles Fort and enjoyed a beautiful sunny day overlooking Kinsale.  We stopped at The Bulman Pub for lunch and actually ate (a phenomenal seafood chowder) outside in Ireland, in November. 

We had originally thought to stay in Cobh, pronounced Cove, where the Titanic made its last stop before heading to America.  I'm so glad we didn't.  This place was an unattractive seaport.  The main attraction-the dock where people boarded the Titantic-is barely standing.  The only charming thing about the town was its massive gothic-styled cathedral in the middle of town.  

Happy to get back to Kinsale, we stopped in again at the White House and Brian learned about Red Breast Whisky.  We learned a lot from the bartender at the White House!  

11/25-Headed to Killorglin, our starting point for the Ring of Kerry. We grabbed a quick lunch at Zest before deciding to do the North Loop to Portmagee. Brian had read about Ballycarbery Castle and two ring forts-one called Cahergal Fort.  This turned into quite the adventure!  Located near the town of Cahersiveen, we followed many road signs for the castle, only to find it closed off by barbed wire because it's truly in someone's backyard.  Naturally, we did what anyone would do after driving through crazy back roads to find something-we trespassed.  

Not far down the road is one of the ring forts, after climbing this, we tried to figure out how to get to the smaller, sister fort.  This fort was again, on someone's land, so we asked permission to go in and after a stern warning of "don't look at the rams," we got to experience climbing this fort as well.  

Wanting to make sunset, we had read about the "best view on the Ring of Kerry"  and indeed it was.  Finally found the tiny B&B, paid our 4 Euro and ran up to the look out for stunning views of the sun setting on the cliffs and Skellig Islands.  

We were staying in Killarney at The Park Hotel that night and the drive from the Ring to the hotel was a long one.  People slam Killarney as being too touristy, but in the off-season it was delightful.  We had a fabulous dinner at The Smokehouse on the high street, followed by a drink by the fire at The Laurels.

11/26-In the morning, we stopped at the Muckross House in Killarney National Park.  It was quite impressive and the home is 70% restored to its original state, including furnishings.  Beautiful.  Drove through the National Park for stunning views, including Ladies View, on our way to Kenmare and then on to Tralee.  I was most excited about Tralee because we were staying in a restored castle called Ballyseede Castle.  It was very cozy and they have a sweet dog named Einstein who hangs out in the bar or on the stairs to be near the guests.  

The castle is 5 minutes or so from town and Brian had heard about great trad music at Sean Ogs that started at 9:30.  We got a seat at the bar just as the band was setting up.  The Irish have it right!  A little nook carved out for bands in every bar, the band drinks as long as they play and if you're inside when the bar closes-you can stay until they kick you out.  Our bartender was a kind man named Nile and before we headed out, he gave us a recommendation for a pub in Galway.  

11/27-Because our trip was only about 9 days, we were on the move the very next day to Galway via the Cliffs of Moher. We took the ferry from Tarbert to Kilrush (18 Euros) and it runs on the hour every half hour, simply queue up at the stop sign. 

The Cliffs of Moher are everything you think they will be, but it is much more touristy than I expected.  Standing precariously on the unsafe side of the walking path, it truly takes your breath away.  It is freezing and windy and loud and the view from every point is incredible.  

We stopped in Doolin on the way from the Cliffs and then against our better judgment, followed the GPS directions.  This is where the true test of traveling and marriage happens.  Night is falling, we are running low on gas and we are now in the middle of nowhere as the GPS keeps adding time on to our trip.  Panic starts to set in the darker it gets and when we realize we aren't seeing any cars headed our way.  Brian is really starting to get stressed out and I'm trying not to say anything to stress him out even more.  Suddenly, we realized we were in the Burren. I will say, finally seeing a main road, another car and a gas station was a HUGE relief!  In fact, making it to Galway was so relieving.  We both needed a mental break from the stressful driving day.  

We stopped by the Dail bar, recommended by Simon and then headed to Neachtains to get me a Stonewell Cider-I may have looked at a list of all their "stockists" in Ireland.  Neachtains was packed and the band was local students from Galway's university.  We met a lovely brother and sister and a couple from Chicago because we were all eyeing the same barstool.  We wandered Galway, grabbed a burger from SuperMac (Irish McDonald's) and ended up at The Dew Drop.  

Galway was by FAR our favorite place in Ireland.  Everyone in Ireland is an extrovert, but the people of Galway are especially endearing.  While at The Dew Drop, an Irish couple asked to join us.  Conor had just finished his Masters and he and Brigid were out celebrating.  They offered to take us out on the town with them, starting at the Front Door, a multi-level bar.  We ended up closing down the place with them at 3 am.  They are such a delightful, friendly and lovely couple.  We have kept in touch via Facebook and they are now engaged.  I can only hope that Brian and I are just as welcoming to people visiting us in our hometown.  It was the perfect night with Brigid and Conor.  

11/28-Thanksgiving!  We were intent on simply wandering Galway for the day after our late night, so we stopped at Thomas Dillons for a traditional Claddagh ring, wandered a German-style Christmas market and pub hopped whenever we got too cold.  McSwiggans, yes, that's the REAL name, was a pit stop for a WIFI connection to FaceTime with the family at home.  A sweet older gentleman heard our FaceTime and he wished us a Happy Thanksgiving, grabbed my purse, set it on the counter and offered to buy us a coffee.  He was so sweet and gave us a great perspective on the relationship between Ireland and America through some of Ireland's tough times.  Add John Mahoney to the list of reasons we loved Galway.

We had a lovely Thanksgiving meal overlooking the high street at The Artisan, great pate & duck.  Finished our final night in Galway at Tig Coili for some trad music.  

11/29-From Galway back to Dublin is a straight shot on the highway.  Brian's family is from County Roscommon so we stopped along the way to take a picture.  It was a relief to be back in Dublin without anymore driving.  We decided to do many touristy things because we'd had such limited time on the front end of the trip.  We went to Trinity College to see the Book of Kells.  The highlight of this tour was the end-it brings you through the Trinity Library.  It's a bookworm's dream.  A stunning library with rich woods, two floors and the smell of old books.  

We left Trinity College to head to St. Stephen's Green but the gates had just been locked for the night so we headed to Temple Bar.  Per expectation, it was packed with locals and tourists alike.  Pub-hopped to O'Sullivans then to Grafton Street to see the beautiful Christmas decorations-chandeliers lining the streets.  Brian had been hoping to find a place called Neary's and at that moment, I looked down a side street and there it was!  What a cozy little throwback to the 1920s. We wrapped up our night with dinner at Farm, which was delicious-the risotto gratin was outstanding.  

11/30-Woke up to head to St. Stephen's Green early before our flight.  After a quick walk through the park, we headed to Dublin Airport.  The best, and most confusing, thing about Dublin's airport is that you go through US customs at the Dublin Airport.  So in following signs for security, we walked right up to a US customs agent and a lobby decorated with American flags.  It was so interesting.  The trip ended on an even higher note when we got upgraded to business class for the flight home.  (My international travel is now ruined thanks to this experience and I will lament every long flight we take on our RTW trip next year. Ha!)  

Ireland is truly a stunningly beautiful country and its people are a true gem.  We look forward to heading back and spending time there in the future-seeing Van Morrison live in Belfast is on our bucket list!