six liters and some autostop later

On April 25 we went to Ronda with our school. When the official field trip came to an end, our adventures had only begun. Rachel, Stephen, and I had made plans to go hiking in the sierra de Grazalema. We had even booked a hostel there. A hotel, actually. We decided we could afford such luxury if Rachel and I would share a twin size bed. Twins are smaller in Spain. But by the time we got to our little room, we had already had enough adventures to sleep well on.

The fun started when the bus schedule, which we had walked all over Sevilla to find, turned out to be wrong. The last bus of the day from Ronda to Grazalema doesn't run anymore. There was a bus going to Montecorto, which was slightly closer to our destination, so we hopped on. When we hopped off again, we had nothing to do but walk.

So we started walking, knowing we'd have to end the walk in the dark. We discussed the possibility of maybe doing a little autostop. Look that one up in your Spanish-English dictionaries. It's one of my favorite words, now that we've done it.

The next day, the day of senderismo between Grazalema and Algodonales, was incredible. It was a about 34 degrees celsius and sunburn sunny from the sunrise we saw over Grazalema to the sunset we saw as we rode the bus back from Algodonales to Sevilla. The road travels 26 km from Grazalema to Algodonales. We took such shortcuts that I think of it as at least a 35 km hike. These shortcuts were through hills with bajillions of bushes covered with intense thorns and down ridiculously sloped almond groves that ended in fences.

On our perch in Zahara, we ate tuna and tentacles on tortillas, then waded in the lake below to cool down our torn-up legs. Back on the road to Algodonales, we were honked at by our housing coordinator, who just happened to be driving that road that day.

In Algodonales, a friendly local explained the cause of all the music and firecrackers as he walked us to the bus stop. We sat down on the pavement and ate more galletas, peanut butter (thanks Mom!) and tuna until the bus came and took us back to Sevilla.

When I got back to the house that night, my Señora didn't say anything about my body odor, the scratches on my legs, or the six-inch rip in my shorts. She just lovingly brought me a pear, a banana, and a glass of water.

I drank over six liters of water that day, and only peed three times.