Happy Sant Jordi! *Updated*

In Catalunya, April 23 is Sant Jordi, the Catalan equivalent of Valentine's Day. The (slightly sexist) tradition is that women buy books for the men in their lives and men buy flowers for the women. Already, the vendors are set up all up and down the streets selling flowers and libros. I'd really prefer a book since they tend not to die the next day, but one of my students gave me a rose this morning and I have to admit it's pretty to look at. Besides, now I can go out this afternoon and buy a book for myself. Pictures to come...

*Update!*

This is Plaza Sant Jaume. I didn't get many pictures of the stands where they were selling books because, well, pictures of books just really aren't that interesting. But here's un ejemplo:


All the stands were decorated with the Catalan flag (the yellow and red banner).

This debatably crazy man was standing in the middle of the plaza screaming "bon dia" (the Catalan equivalent of buenos dias) at everyone who walked by. The sign says "Here Catalan has no future." He's the same one from the "I need a thousand hugs" picture a while back. I think that sign would have been more appropriate for the occasion.




































Rainbow-colored roses!


Sometimes I read giant books.

By the end of the day, I made out nicely thanks to Patrick and a few students who obviously were thinking ahead to when I'll give them their grades at the end of the month. Plus, I bought myself a book in Spanish, which I'll be reading on the beach with a bilingual dictionary at my side. A few people described it to me as the best day in Barcelona. I don't know about that since I haven't been here for a whole year yet, but I can at least say that the Catalans know how to pick a good day for a holiday - a sunny day at the end of April beats February 14th any day.

For an unforgettable Christmas present, Patrick arranged for the two of us to go to Portugal, and we ended up going to Lisbon in late February. After an extensive course in Portuguese (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5OzV3R16bKI), we hopped on a plane on a Friday and got to Lisbon about an hour later. After ditching our bags at the hostel, we set out to explore a little bit.








































After an extended siesta, we set out to find a good place to eat. On the way we found this mural that I fell in love with.






































The people who stand outside the restaurants in Lisbon put the Barcelona guys to shame in terms of aggressiveness and persistence. Luckily, we dodged them, and walking a little farther up the road paid off. We found this tiny place that advertised itself as an art gallery slash restaurant, and the cook came out of the kitchen to explain the menu and give us her recommendations. It turned out to be one of the best meals I've ever had.













































On Saturday we took a day trip to the Sintra castle, which apparently looks like this if you go on a day when it's not pouring rain.



But to try something a little different, we chose to go on a day that was more like this:















































Back in the main part of town, we played around in the plaza that was like a big optical illusion. Again, props to Patrick for picking a muy guay hostel that overlooked this:











































































Later we walked up to the top of the hill to do a little bar-hopping and I took some pictures along the way. It seems like the custom in Lisbon is to go into a bar to get a drink in a plastic cup and then go back out onto the street to imbibe. It was like a giant, packed frat party.










































It also seems like it's a Lisbon tradition to mark your territory with graffiti. I'm definitely a fan, and Lisbon had the best graffiti of any city I've been to so far.





























"No one prohibits you except you"






Sunday before our flight, we wandered around with a German girl we met at the hostel. We climbed up the hill on the other side of the city and made it up to the top just before we had to catch a cab to the airport.






















































Carne = Crime


At last, we had to say "tchau" to Portugal. I was sad to leave, but now that I know at least 5 Portuguese words I'm sure I'll be back soon.