Do Glaswegians flock to me?
So here's a weird story. While I was on a website looking for apartments to rent, there was a little announcement at the bottom that said "People who are also looking at this apartment..." and showed four or five listings. There was a picture of a girl and next to it were the words "Kirstin, Scotland, 21." I don't know what made me click on it, divine intervention maybe? Boredom? Turns out, this was a girl also doing a year as an auxiliar in a town right outside of Vigo. I decided to send her a friendly email explaining our similar situations, invited her to let me know if she ever wanted someone to explore the city with, and gave her my Facebook details.
And thus began our glorious friendship. Kirstin found a flat in a great location in Vigo. It's a small one bedroom, but I envy her independence and ability to leave without having to inform a security guard. We met up on Monday and walked around the city for hours (seriously, I had blisters). She introduced me to los chinos, a special kind of magic I had long forgotten about. Chinese immigrants are to Spain what Indians are to the US. They've come and opened up convenience stores where you can find anything you could ever need, and for cheap. After buying the last of what I needed to put my room together, Kirstin and I had some lunch and visited her flat and then went on an unsuccessful hunt for Celta Vigo tickets (the local soccer team).
As it turns out, there are two other girls from Kirstin's university here in Vigo. They are Katrina and Maria. We decided to go out Friday night, seeing as none of us had had the chance yet and especially as I had spent my only weekends alone at the deserted CRD.
I went to Kirstin's around 8:30 after finding a suitable bus route (Did I mention I hate buses?). We sat, chatted, took our time getting ready, and finished a bottle of wine. We left around 11:30 or so to go meet the other girls, and for the first 15 minutes or so of our walk, the town was dead. When we got to the more touristy district, there seemed to be some busier places open, but still we worried about the lack of night life. We met the other girls, and together we found a bar and had a drink and chatted. When we left, we went to a nearby place that we noticed looked really nice. We sat and had another drink or two, wondering where all the people were. Kirstin pointed out that it was "half two," or 2:30. I knew Spaniards went out late, but I'm just so used to the crowd at home dwindling at 2:30 am, not picking up. A random Spanish man instructed us to go up one street to find all the discotecas, or clubs. So up we went, and we found one! It was insane how busy a club is at 3am, and it's only just beginning. Another thing you simply have to get used to, I suppose.
On the walk home, a Glaswegian man stopped us and said "I hear a Glaswegian accent!" So, an American in Spain meets four separate Glaswegians in three separate occasions...Do I have a Scottish magnet in me? Is there a flashing neon sign hanging above me that says, "Scottish? Befriend this girl!"? Is there a Sherri fan club in Glasgow? Who can know for sure? What I can say is that my Scottish accent is going to be damn good after this year is over.
El mundo es un libro y ellos que no viajan leen sólo una página.
And thus began our glorious friendship. Kirstin found a flat in a great location in Vigo. It's a small one bedroom, but I envy her independence and ability to leave without having to inform a security guard. We met up on Monday and walked around the city for hours (seriously, I had blisters). She introduced me to los chinos, a special kind of magic I had long forgotten about. Chinese immigrants are to Spain what Indians are to the US. They've come and opened up convenience stores where you can find anything you could ever need, and for cheap. After buying the last of what I needed to put my room together, Kirstin and I had some lunch and visited her flat and then went on an unsuccessful hunt for Celta Vigo tickets (the local soccer team).
As it turns out, there are two other girls from Kirstin's university here in Vigo. They are Katrina and Maria. We decided to go out Friday night, seeing as none of us had had the chance yet and especially as I had spent my only weekends alone at the deserted CRD.
I went to Kirstin's around 8:30 after finding a suitable bus route (Did I mention I hate buses?). We sat, chatted, took our time getting ready, and finished a bottle of wine. We left around 11:30 or so to go meet the other girls, and for the first 15 minutes or so of our walk, the town was dead. When we got to the more touristy district, there seemed to be some busier places open, but still we worried about the lack of night life. We met the other girls, and together we found a bar and had a drink and chatted. When we left, we went to a nearby place that we noticed looked really nice. We sat and had another drink or two, wondering where all the people were. Kirstin pointed out that it was "half two," or 2:30. I knew Spaniards went out late, but I'm just so used to the crowd at home dwindling at 2:30 am, not picking up. A random Spanish man instructed us to go up one street to find all the discotecas, or clubs. So up we went, and we found one! It was insane how busy a club is at 3am, and it's only just beginning. Another thing you simply have to get used to, I suppose.
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| Can you spot the American? Hint: It's the one without the drink in her hand. |
El mundo es un libro y ellos que no viajan leen sólo una página.
I wish Glaswegians flocked to me...
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