Spa Senator Cadiz Cádiz

... in our program - the beach. Yep, the beautiful, white sandy beaches of Cadiz, the most ancient city in Spain. <br> We had a fun train ride there - Amanda, Jen, Claire, Shannon, Alice, Hedi, Emily, Lizzy, Emily P., Joanne, Aaron, Ian, and Reid. I played a card game called Big 2 and got flicked in the forehead by Ian when I lost, no mercy. Apparently luck was not on my side that morning because at the end of that train ride, I still had a red welt ...

... to communicate. We were able to watch Flamingo dancing at the center in town as there was a special performance that night and the star was a young man who grew up in Cadiz and Loly and her husband have known as a child. After the show we went to lunch with Sergio and Oscar their sons. Oscar is older and speaks a little English and looks just like Jon Vaglio. Crazy. That morning both sons were at a casting call for a movie to be made with Tom ...

... set up a little ladder so that the mice could drink the sherry out of a wine glass!<br><br><br>Then we went to the horse show. Very similar to what the Lippanzaner Stallions do. It was&#8230;an experience&#8230;but I don&#8217;t think I&#8217;ll ever go watch something like that again. But I can at least say that I've seen it.<br>

We got up really early (for us vacationers). It was about 8:15am. We decided we would drive 2 hours to a city called Jerez de la Frontera to see the famous dancing horses of Jerez. The tour guide said it was worth the drive... We arrived to another city. Not as big as Seville, but a city nonetheless. Shae was super excited to see the dancing horses. The show started at noon and lasted 1.5 hours. Shae lasted about 20 minutes - which was pretty good for her ...

... be at the train station, so we headed over to the Senator to try and meet up with people on the rooftop pool. We strided in through the lobby, luggage and all, completely ignoring the questions and greetings of the concierge, and went straight up to the pool. Up there, we saw our friend Anna napping and said hello to her (I accidentally woke her by bumping into her, of course). However, Liz and I both felt that, after being burned yesterday ...

... looked to have disappeared. No, it had not blown away; it was hiding under a new dune. Not for nothing is this coast the wind surfing and kite surfing centre of Europe. The 10-mile long beach between our campsite and Tarifa is lined with campsites, small hotels and wind surfing schools. Muscular longhaired surf dudes of all nationalities, but mainly German, abounded. The hills behind the beach hold Europe's largest density of wind ...

... up as bees, butterflies, doctors and other things. I thought I might have drunk too much, but my friends noticed that too. We tried to overhear some conversations to find out what was going on, but it was hard because of the noise of the ocean. Little did we know that Cadiz was about to transform that night into a giant stage for a festival of I-don't-know-and-I-don't-want-to-know-w hat, with people dressing up, dancing, drinking, smoking and making out in ...

... size if you have a day to spend exploring. It took a while to get off the ship because of malfunctions with the ID card reader but it eventually got fixed and we were off to find some breakfast. We ate outside a café on plaza de San Francisco. Even though all my town mates ordered ham and cheese, I decided to get a bacon, egg, and cheese bocadillo (crusty sandwich bread). It was delicious and I will probably return ...

... trees and the outdoors. i'm itching to go for a hike. i really took for granit the walk out your front door hiking that is available in steamboat and bellingham. And obviously i miss my hiking buddy, magnus. poncho doesn't really fill the void. okay i really have to go to lunch, but if there is anything i didn't cover in this here essay, give me a call, or post a comment. p.s i'm working on getting pictures up, but this sight makes it kind of difficult.

... his low-season tariff of E65 a night. We were served the most divine mature goat's cheese produced in the Sierra of Cadiz in a dusty old flamenco tavern under our crumbling hostal and washed it down with a crisp Xerez, seeing as we had by this time become rather seasoned conoisseurs of the andlaucian tipple and made all sorts of knowing and complicit noises as we sniffed and swirled and gurgled it down... We then ...