el meu setmana blanca

In Bilbao, most schools have a week off for Carnivales, or Semana Blanca. I took advantage of this week and made the best of it.

I caught a flight from Madrid at 6:40 Saturday morning to go to Ibiza, perhaps the most famous party island in the world. I wanted to see the island in off-season to actually see more than drunken tourists. It was a constant surprise of beauty and tranquility, a place I want to see again. A beautiful church in Santa Euraria, Dalt Villa in Ibiza Town and it's meandering streets looking over the sea. There was very little fiesta in March, but that's not what I was looking for. I was looking for a rejuvenating vacation, and that was what I was rewarded with.

Monday I took the ferry to neighbouring small island, Formentera, the complete antithesis of it's neighbour. Sparsley populated and immensely beautiful (well, that part isn't the opposite). I had planned on renting a bike to see the island, but the wind and my sudden seasickness put a damper on that idea. I hiked to Sant Francesc, which was a charming village, and along the coast, which was spectacular.

I flew back to Madrid and spent the night so I could visit my old school. While I hate Madrid, my school felt exactly like home. I didn't realise I missed so many great people there, and even my worst classes, the ones that gave me hell, were excited to see me and told me they wanted me back.

Back to Bilbao, and I had one day of "rest" (IE, tons of errands).

Yesterday was an adventure. I finally crossed off that every year goal of trying snowboarding, and boy, was it worth the wait. I loved it. The kids were typical Basque teenagers, who spoke only in Spanish on the bus and then spoke only Basque when they were around anyone from the rest of Spain (the ski resort was on a mountain in La Rioja, and the 16ºC meant that there wasn't much snow to practice on.)

The kids ignored the lessons which made it harder for me to pick up on the cani accent of the instructor. But I got the hang of it. Or so I thought.

It was a disorganised mess in the way all Spanish (and Basque) school excursions are. I can't believe none of the students got killed. I hope none of them got pregnant as there was no way to keep track of them.

And then after lunch, I was practising some more, and decided to go for a slope a little bit more difficult. Not a wise idea. In trying to avoid a skier who had stopped in the middle of the slope, I ended up falling, and I am shocked the sprained ankle wasn't an actual break. I can actually already walk without it hurting.

It's not a deterence to never snowboard again. It's a motivation to find more practice for snowboarding next winter, as I think spring has arrived already, although autumn never changed to winter here.