by Isaure Cointreau

Let’s not get too sentimental as the academic year has passed so quickly. We are already in June and most of the Erasmus students are taking their leave. One after the other, the despedidas are taking place as the summer starts and the holidays are the next best thing on the menu. People are, for one going back home and then either they work or travel but one thing is for sure, they are not coming back.

Reminiscing our crazy nights, our laughs, incredible trips and fiestas, who knew the power of goodbye would make us reach for the past more than helping us set a foot in the future? However before moving on, I like to think about what an incredible adventure this was.

I remember when I left for Madrid I had nothing more than my suitcase and no connections whatsoever. I was the only one of my program to have chosen the Spanish capital as a destination; however it turned out pretty well. My first encounter happened in the plane and eventually became my roommate. Meeting people randomly in bars, clubs or the Metro, the Erasmus card could be played repeatedly as a member of the foreign community was never far away. Before Uni started everyone was completely lost but was enjoying the hell of it, embracing a new life.

After a while, the exploration of Madrid became a little less thrilling than what was surrounding it. With our will to change sights and our motivation on taking every opportunity to get a good grasp of the Iberian culture, trips were organized. Segovia, Avila, Sevilla, Salamanca and many more were our destinations and some of us fell in love with the Spanish soil. Splashing its cultural goodness in our faces, we were stroked by its incredibly rich variety. The heritage embodied in the architecture and history, the warmth and pride of the people, the respect of traditions and the will to move forward and of course the proximity of the beach, what is there not to love?

Madrid offers a grand welcome to all newcomers and to those who embrace it well, it can almost feel like home. I am not one who will contradict that feeling. Although my studies at the Autonoma have come to an end, my stay hasn’t. Desperate to postpone my leave, I was on the hunt for a reason to stay such as a job or an internship. Now that I have found such an occupation, the few stayers and I bid our farewells to the ones flying back. How odd it is to see that life goes on in Spain without those we lived everything with. Feeling almost like family, I believe these friends we made here will stay as such for long.

As much as it feels like a page is turning to never be flipped again, I only see it as Act 3 starting. The huge difference between the first and second semester is the reason why it feels like this. Though seeing as the latter was such an improvement from the other, I can only have high hopes for what is coming. However I will always feel a bit of nostalgia when thinking of Halloween in Sevilla, the Chupeteria in Salamanca, St Patrick’s day, Marco and “El olivo”, and the crazy Americans at “The penthouse”. 

Erasmus although you are long gone and initiated the concept of studying abroad indirectly, I would like to thank you. Though you were more of an inspiration, you were the seed that made the project bloom. This experience is an enlightenment upon life through experiencing the unknown and understanding another culture. For those who have been able to enjoy the studying as much as the traveling and partying, meeting new people in a new country, I feel I can say that this was an eye opening experience that will stay with us forever.

by Kika Patrick

Semana Santa seems like such a long time ago. But, being in Madrid, well anywhere in Spain, no one has to wait too long for another long weekend. Spaniards do love their hols. Let me take you back to that glorious long week of Easter and share with you where I went on my travels.

It was time for my Padres to visit and they were incredibly keen on seeing the famed Semana Santa processions. Naturally our first choice of where to see them was Seville where they are said to be the best. It’s also where all the Spaniards go if they want to see a good show. Apparently it’s so popular that the spectators who travel there know all the places in town for a the best vistas. Not surprisingly everywhere gets booked up well in advance and unfortunately we weren’t quite quick enough. With a little more research I was tipped off that closer towns to Madrid such as Valladolid and Salamanca had great processions.

Both under 2 hours away by car we made plans to head to Salamanca and experience Valladolid a day before we returned to the capital. Salamanca is a historic University city, it’s basically Spain’s equivalent to Oxford or Cambridge. We set off with a rental car from Gran Via and headed for the M30. An hour in, more or less, we decided to stop off in Segovia for a bit of Roman architecture (but of course, what would a touristy trip be without a bit of an input from the Romans) and lunch. We found a tiny timber framedbodega off the square with a view of the aquaduct from it’s upstairs Dining Room. We were hungry at about 2pm (being English and all) but the kitchens were barely open (being Spanish and all) so we had the place practically to ourselves. After lunch we had a stroll around the town, bought postcards for relatives, headed for the Alcazar which had fantastic views over the surrounding valley and eventually ambled back to the car to continue with our journey.

We arrived in Salamanca a little before dusk, a little car weary and tumbled into the old Rector Hotel. Being on my backpacking days – I thought I’d seen the last of luxury hotels when I stayed in Santiago de Compostela’s Parador late last year. But we had found a lovely boutiquey style hotel just opposite the Art Nouveau/Deco Museum. The type with design magazines and popular coffee table books strewn across a well styled lobby. And I was particularly impressed when this one serving little pots of jam from Tiptree, Essex for Breakfast. I haven’t seen jam from them since I was a kid and I only live half an hour away when I’m in the UK. Of course though we wouldn’t be spending too long in the hotel as we were to experience the best of processions Salamanca had to offer. Thanks to the very helpful staff at reception, who handed us a detailed mini booklet of events. We headed out onto the evening streets for our first procession.

We found a spot on a corner of a street where we had a clear view of them coming towards us and moving away. We were there in plenty of time of the scheduled time in booklet but of course them being Spanish, didn’t get going until hour after anyway. And then they began, first I could hear faint bangs on drums, then brass played music and then the hooded men/women appeared yonder. Carrying banners, candled staffs and eventually the tableaux. Now forgive me for being a tad uncultured here but the image was at first so alien to me that all I wanted to do was hum the theme tune to Darth Vader as the hooded people stepped slowly down the street. Then when the bands came into view the music sounded really familiar to that of the Godfather so I started humming that too.

However, by my third procession on the second day, my film music stage had mostly passed. Salamanca offers many good view points and there was only one very popular procession that uses the ancient Romanesque (as in the style of the Romans, they didn’t build it) bridge into the city, where we found we did not have a front row seat/standing place. Of course though it’s the earlier you get there, the better your place is going to be. There are many lovely bars and restaurants to pass your time in, in between processions, which was handy for coffee and food. Lots of touristy type shops too selling figurines of the various brotherhoods and hoodies with ‘Salamanca’ written in American College typo.

We never did get to Valladolid because we were enjoying seeing the sights in Salamanca so much. And I was surprised at how easy it was to get to from Madrid by car. From my memory, the roads in Spain have never been of the most reputable, but that’s all changed now thanks to E.U. funding. If we weren’t driving on a spanking new motorway, we were driving beside it on a fast-moving dual carriage way, watching it being built. Very impressive. My overall impression, though, is that Salamanca is a great city to visit even without the Semana Santa processions. There are many places to stay from cheap to luxury, lots to see from old to modern. Parents dragged me round the cathedral of course but my favorite site was the Art Nouveau/Deco Museum where I picked up a ‘Divas of Jazz’ CD as a souvenir. I listen to it lots, remembering what a fabulous city Salamanca is.

by Helen Macrae

As city, Madrid has got it all. With theatres and tapas, bars and bullfighting, shopping and sunshine, it’s cosmopolitan, frenetic, bold, brash and…smelly.

When I first touched down in Spain I was overwhelmed by the host of aromas to hit my nose (starting with that all-too familiar smell of smoke mere seconds after I had walked into arrivals), but after a while I became accustomed to it all as I busied myself with daily life, trotting around the city teaching executives useful words like chav, monkfish and Tesco clubcard. It took a visit from my parents and their non-initiated noses to remind me that Madrid has an amazing array of aromas, some of them nice and some of them nasty, but all combining to create that unique “Esencia de Madrid”.

My sensory journey begins each morning at Metro Sol, when I change from Line 3 to Line 1 and my nostrils are hit with the delicious smell of freshly-baked waffles coming from the cafe in the station. Luckily I’m always in too much of a rush to stop and buy any, otherwise I’d currently be the size of a small country. Unfortunately though, even this divine smell is sometimes not enough to mask the stink of drains which seems to permanently hang in the air round Sol. Other unpleasant odours I experience on the Metro to work are B.O., bad breath and, my personal favourite, the smell of someone sweating out alcohol they drank the night before. Yuk.

More agreeable aromas you might encounter as you journey round Madrid include cut grass when the gardeners have been out in force in one of the city’s numerous parks, along with the delightful scent of flowers as you walk by the Botanical Gardens next to the Retiro. The smell of cigarette smoke is pretty much unavoidable anywhere you go, as is that of frying food, both of which may or may not to be your taste. As you wander round Lavapies you’re hit with the pungent smell of curry, laced with a whiff of hash and perhaps a dash of urine. Walk round the more well-heeled barrios of the city such as Salamanca, Retiro and Opera, and you can smell money.

But my favourite smell in Madrid is one that it’s difficult to put my finger on, and which at times can be quite elusive. As my mate H puts it, it’s that smell you sometimes catch a waft of on a summer’s evening, just as dusk is drawing in, a smell full of promise and anticipation of the night’s adventures. The smell of fun!

Madrid Metro – Smells delightful?