Marbella and Familiar Faces

It has been a wonderful last week.  In the previous weeks, I had found myself in a bit of a gloomy slump.   It wasn't from any singular thing, but more a collaborative effort by all entities in my life.  Needless to say, I am ecstatic to be over that spell.  I suppose happiness and contentment are really a choice. 

 Sometimes, I think I subconsciously allow myself to succumb to melancholy.   My only logic is that I have this inexplicable desire to "suffer", to have hardships.  When they don't exist in my life, I apparently create them in my head.  Why? Well, my theory is it could be a tool or method I use to continue to "feel".  Happiness is like a drug in some aspects.  If everything in life seems to be going super smoothly and enjoyable most of the time, nearly stagnant, it takes more and more excitement or stimulation to maintain that feeling of happiness.  So, if one allows themself to capitulate to spells of unexplainable depression and somberness, then, it breaks up the monotony.  Even if that monotony is happiness. I suppose it all goes back to that human struggle of balance and

 contentment. 

I tend to enjoy drama, and I think it all stems from my incomprehension of how to truly be content.  This is where the idea that happiness is something like a drug.  Also, those of us who are more fortunate in life with relatively minor tribulations, can never truly understand contentment because we can't grasp how truly blessed we are.   All of this rambling to say, I decided to be happy even if it isn't as dramatic and exhilarating as the alternative.

That was severely off topic and I didn't intend for this entry to become some existential dissertation.  Nonetheless, I had the great fortune to travel to Marbella, a small resort city in the south of Spain, and stay with some friends from Kingsport.  Phil and Melissa, some friends of the family, had a 3 bedroom condo timeshare at the Marriott.  With all of the extra room, they invited me down for a weekend getaway.

Marriott Marbella

The property and condo were lovely!  A few years ago, I didn't consider myself to be the resort type.  I insisted that I preferred to "slum" it in a hostel, and that somehow it made the experience.  Only pompous, posh, aristocrats would fork over the ample amount of money for unnecessary space, luxuries and comforts.  Clearly, I am past this silly mentality.  Although, I do enjoy hostels and it is a unique experience, there ain't no shame in diving into plush duvets with piles of pillows and large oversized jacuzzi tubs.

Costa Del Sol

On Friday, Melissa, Phil, and I went to the city of Ronda about an hour from Marbella.  It is a sweet little town with plenty of nice cafes and restaurants and picturesque streets.  Although, the main attraction is the 390 ft. deep gorge and bridge that stretches across it.  It also is home to one of the first bullfighting rings in Spain. 

This photo gives a better sense of the depth and scale than the actual bridge itself.

Phil and Melissa left on Saturday morning.  Although I really only saw them for a day and a half, it was great and I enjoyed it greatly.  We shared some good stories, laughs, wine and plenty of cheese.  They also let me take advantage of their last night reservations, which they couldn't stay to use.  So, Saturday night, I was able to enjoy the entire suite to myself.  

During the day Saturday, I moseyed down to the beach, bummed around, read, wrote in my journal, but kept finding myself... well, bored.  This goes back to the idea that often times, it's not about where you go, it's about who you go with.  Granted, this is not entirely valid, but in this scenario it applies.  When it's too chilly to swim, and only other resorts are near, it is much more diverting to be with a friend.  I was really curious how I would entertain myself that night.  

I managed it by accidently overflowing the bathtub and subsequently the entire bathroom with bubbles and suds from my attempt to take a leisurely bubble bath.  I was literally engulfed in bubbles, and if I laid my head back, I created a long, bubble tunnel leaving on a bit of my face visible.  

Although it was a hoot, I couldn't help but desperately wish I had a 'novio' with me.  It would have been hilariously fun and romantic at the same time.   Other forms of entertainment I discovered were a few Arabic t.v. channels that had movies in English and subtitles in Arabic.  God forbid the German or Spanish channels use the original language! Oh no! They insist on dubbing everything.  The Germans have made an art of it, finding voice-over artists who actually sound like the originals.  Spanish dubbing on the other hand is basically one guy and one girl for each character. LAAAAME!

OOPS!!!

 

Sunday, I made the 7-hour bus journey back to Madrid.  I can't say that this was enjoyable in the least.  In fact, I would say it was quite uncomfortable.  To me there is something obnoxiously unnatural about sitting in such close quarters with a stranger.  There also seems to be no universal manner of behavior, leaving both parties rather awkward.  Do you talk, do you sleep, do you simply pretend the other doesn't exist, and if you do decide to strike-up a conversation, how do you politely shut them up when you want to do something else? Regardless, it was a terrific pleasure to see the Clemons and also visit Marbella and Ronda.

Yesterday, I got the opportunity to see another Kingsportarian...  This time here in Madrid.  Sam, ironically my sole blog "follower", was with his university chorus group doing a singing tour in some cathedrals in Spain and France.  We met at the Botanical Gardens, which quite frankly, was not so impressive.  

After seeing the few rows of flowers that have been planted this early in the season, we went and had delicious Indian food.  I have been wanting to go to an Indian restaurant for a few months now.  So, it was perfection that I got to share it with Sam and two of his mates from ETSU.  Then, we went to a cervezaria for a beer and glass of wine, before I sadly had to part with him. 

Not only was it fantastic to see Sam, a person I have always liked but somehow managed to not keep in very good contact with after high school, but just to have that slice of home.  Here I have plenty of American friends, but it's so different to be with someone who can make me laugh like no other and who has that common history and knows the same people, who understands and perhaps surpasses my odd sense of humor.  I feel like this particular group of people I grew up with are so unique and interesting that really there is no one else like them in the world.  So, those moments when our universes merge with each others once again, it is priceless. Truly priceless. 

"Being in a foreign country means walking a tightrope high above the ground without the net afforded a person by the country where he has his family, colleagues, and friends, and where he can easily say what he has to say in a language he has known from childhood."

Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being