Jeremy and Bridget left the following morning. It was Tuesday and they were on their way to San Sebastian to watch the running of the bulls.
Amanda got up early and went downstairs to get a bite of breakfast to eat. She was leaving today to get a new passport in Madrid. Then she was traveling south to Malaga to fly back into England.
I didn't know what to do. Not wanting her to leave, but not knowing whether this was where the road was supposed to end or not, I was frozen.
And I had been there before.
It's only been a few years ago, but it seems like much longer than that when I broke up with Nicole. 16 months was a long relationship for me - the longest certainly that I have ever had. We had our problems, for sure, and there were reasons for my actions. Good reasons. But when you're young and immature you often miss the forest for the trees.
Not long after we broke up, I regretted it. A series of circumstances and mistakes on my part led me to begin to doubt myself. And I don't just mean doubt my interactions with girls.
I doubted everything.
What to eat for lunch, what classes to take, when to take them, whether to believe in God, whether to believe in myself, whether to ever try having a relationship again, what girl to try it with. A constant series of self-doubting questions left me broken and spent.
It took a long time for those to stop lingering and were even brought back by another relationship gone bad, but that's another story for another day.
So here I was, with this girl, amidst a spectacle of circumstances, and I didn't want to watch her walk away.
But there's nothing I can do - we choose our own paths and she had to choose hers. I suppose in many ways her hand was forced, but I'm a believer in making things happen - if you want them bad enough.
I went to the bus station with her - my stuff still spread out in our hostel, for I was staying another day or 2 - fully expecting her to leave that morning.
Her eyes danced back and forth - toward the sky, toward the floor - as she studied the bus schedule.
"When should I leave?"
"That's your decision - leave at whatever time will put you into Madrid when you want to get there."
If she left immediately, the bus would pull into Madrid early in the evening. Or she could take the night bus, save money by not paying for a hostel, and spend more time with me. Her call.
The eyes danced some more and then she bought the ticket. Night bus.
I was happy and she knew it. We spent the rest of the day together acting like we had all the time in the world to be together. We shopped. We ate. We took a siesta.
The setting for dinner was a plaza underneath the changing colors of the evening sky. Afterwards, we meandered to a dessert-only eatery where the 4 of us had visited a few days before.
A lot can be said for a full Spanish meal. But the Spanish do desserts like I have never seen.
A man carrying a guitar sang to all of us out in that square that night. Eating one of the best desserts of my life, sitting there with the girl, listening to the singing man - I had another one of those moments.
I forgot about the fact that she was leaving in a few hours. I forgot about the fact that I was going to be alone and lost once again in this foreign country.
And I felt content. The feeling from that night in Valencia came back to me - it came and surrounded me on several occassions during my journey.
We made our way back up to the Mirador for a bit and sat in each other's arms. Simple.
When it was time to go, we hadn't planned on the city buses not running. A taxi would have to be flagged down.
A white and green car stopped and Amanda had to leave. We said our goodbyes and stood there facing each other.
You would of thought we were the leading characters in some classic romance movie - the kind that were prevalent long before I was born, but seem to be a lost art in today's world. Hollywood is too busy trying to impose its political views on America to make any quality movies anymore.
But that kiss was the stuff of legend, I swear to you.
And that's all I'm going to say about it - because words will not do it justice.
Walking back to the hostel after watching this girl ride away, emotions overcame me.
I was confused, trying to get answers from God about where this path was going. He was not willing to answer me.
Not yet.
Thursday, October 27, 2005
We Said Goodbye
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
The Day After
The girl got us lost on more than one occassion and I got us found just as many times. By now it was pretty obvious to both of us that something was happening between us, but it seemed as if neither her nor I wanted to talk about it.
With Amanda's departure becoming more and more inevitable, we both savored the time we had and enjoyed all the moments. We ate dinner at a small restaraunt up above the city after watching the sun set slowly and poetically across Granada from the Mirador.
We met Jeremy and Bridget that night for a Flamenico show. I paid my 10 dollars, er, Euros, and walked thru the doorway and down a declining hall. At the end of the hall was a room no larger than 30 feet by 12 feet. A tunnel.
This is where the show is?!?
The place had room for maybe 30 people. Somehow much more than that crammed in there in addition to the performers. This was not a place to hold any type of performance. Space was tight. Sight lines were obstructed. It was a million degrees. Literally - I stood there, not moving a muscle for 2 or 3 hours and I never stopped sweating. EVER.
Towards the end of the show I felt like I was going to lose it. Hot. Claustrophobic. Annoyed. Bored.
I had to get out and I did - I walked out without telling any of the others. The show ended soon after and we met outside. Relief.
Amanda was leaving the following day so that night she and I went to our spot from a night ago. But not before being kicked off the roof terrace. We talked and flirted some more, only exponentially more so than the previous night.
Things escalated and a kiss was only the beginning of what happened that night. Privacy is obviously difficult to come by in a hostel, so improvisations were made.
But I'm not one to kiss and tell. I'll only say this - we perhaps did move a little too quickly given the short time we'd known each other. But things could have escalated a lot more than they did. Facing the reality of our situation, I realized that I was not ready for her to go. But what can you do?
Sometimes, there is nothing to do. Only to accept the things to which fate binds you.
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Something's Shifting
It was Sunday. And it was hot. Brutally hot – I lost track of how many times the temperature hit 40 degrees Celsius while I was in Spain. Not good for a man who doesn’t like to be hot. But My God, was it beautiful. (For my fellow Americans out there – 40 degrees Celsius is 105 degrees Fahrenheit).
The sky was that perfect shade of Carolina Blue – the shade I was so used to seeing while living in Chapel Hill for 5 years. That’s how I know God is a Tar Heel.
But now, I was in this foreign land, seeing foreign structures and experiencing foreign things. Granada was beautiful upon first sight. And today we were going to discover the crown jewel of the city – The Alhambra.
It means “the red one” in Arabic and looks like nothing short of a fairytale castle you read about as a child. The palace rests among the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountain range and appears almost plain and faded from below. Once you enter its beauty, however, that appearance morphs into one of intricate detail and elaborate architecture. A collection of water, light, stucco and ceramics fuse to create an aesthetic grandeur that few structures can match. It is beyond words.
Jeremy, Bridget, Amanda and I spent several hours wandering around The Alhambra’s gardens, squares and courtyards. We came across a couple dressed in wedding attire. What an enchanting place to hold your nuptials.
The ensuing days would be filled with Amanda and I getting to know one another. Politics. Religion. Dreams. It seemed as if nothing was too personal for us to discuss. Interesting.
If you ever find yourself in Granada, be sure to visit Europa II. This became our tapas bar of choice and a routine stopping point during our days exploring the area. Daytime turned to nighttime and somewhere along the line something shifted between Amanda and I.
Back in Valencia, while eating at “The American Restaurant”, the girl had asked me point blank why I had not tried to kiss her already.
“Already??” I thought. We had known each other at that point for maybe 3 days. The question in and of itself threw me off, and that’s saying nothing of the fact that I thought the idea of kissing someone that soon after meeting them was terribly odd. Perhaps I’m not like most guys – I don’t know. But after finishing our meal, I allowed that interaction to slip from my mind, unconcerned about the potential situation.
But like I said, something was shifting in Granada. Amanda and I were spending a lot of time together and we were growing close. On this Sunday night, when we came back to our hostel after the day’s events, we slipped out onto the patio to converse and be alone.
We talked. And flirted. Then we flirted some more.
Somehow we found ourselves sitting very close to one another – feeling each other’s presence. It was late and sleep was calling to both of us.
Unexpectedly, she kissed me. On the lips.
Like a businesswoman upon securing a big contract, she then stood up and walked away as if she had just suckered me into signing away my soul. At that moment, I was beyond confused but stood up and followed her as if I knew precisely what I was doing.
What the hell was going on? What the hell was she thinking? Who does that?
I had no idea – and I had a sneaking suspicion I wasn’t going to get answers. So I did what any respectable man would do. I brushed my teeth. Then I went to bed.
I wasn’t sure what I was doing – and I wasn’t going to worry.
Saturday, October 15, 2005
Kudos
I do not care how you feel about the Iraq War.
Nor George W. Bush
Nor America.
Kudos needs to be given to the People of Iraq - for standing up to terror and proclaiming to the world that they are brave and that they want Freedom and Democracy. For Voting.
They have my utmost respect.
Friday, October 14, 2005
Expect the Unexpected
The man driving the bus must have had a thing about sitting in a pool of his own sweat. He was not about to turn on the A/C, regardless of whether it was 90 or 100 degrees inside that rolling sauna. For that reason and that reason alone, I got absolutely zero sleep that night. Well – if we’re being perfectly honest – the girl sitting in the seat next to me did have her legs strewn across my lap, which did little for my comfort.
However, I had told Amanda to stretch her legs if she needed to. So I’m not complaining.
Despite being tired and dirty and hungry, it was nice to pull into the bus station in Granada. Excitement filled me inside in anticipation of seeing Jeremy and Bridget. Seeing a new city. Introducing them to Amanda.
Amanda and I separated to hit the restrooms and freshen up. It reeked of urine. I splashed some cold water on my face; brushed my teeth; changed my clothes.
We met back out in the lobby and made our way outside to the bus terminal. Pulling out the money necessary to get us to downtown Granada – a look of trepidation came over Amanda.
“What is it?”
“My money belt – it’s not here.”
“What all was in it?”
“Everything.”
That one word meant big trouble. Euros. Credit Card. Passport. I led the way back into the station, down the stairs. I asked her if she had it in the restroom. Maybe it had fallen out in the bus?
No, she remembered pulling it out while freshening up. She went back to the restroom and looked around. She walked back out. Nothing. Well, this was obviously a problem and Amanda was freaking out. Rightly so.
We looked around some more and checked if there was a lost and found – nothing. We had someone radio out to the bus that we had taken to Granada – zilch. Giving up on actually finding her money belt, the girl borrowed some money to call her sister and parents. They would know what to do. Things were put in motion. A temporary passport would be available, but in Madrid. Credit Cards were cancelled. Money would be wired. Today was Saturday, so nothing more could be done. She was with me at least until Monday.
One problem – money could not be collected from the wire service without some sort of official identification. And as we all know, the passport was gone. So the money was wired to me.
Now the girl was dependent. Whether she liked it or not – fate had dealt her a hand that meant she had to totally rely on me. One can only wonder whether or not there was a deep lesson being taught here. A girl who wants to rely on no one for anything – was now reliant upon me for everything. Without me, she has no money. Without money, she can’t rent a bed for the night. Without money, she can’t get to Madrid to replace her passport. Without her passport, she can’t get back into England. Without her passport, she can’t get money. Without me, she has a problem.
I assured her I wouldn’t leave her. I would take care of her. At the time, I think I had already realized the point of the situation.
We had some troubles finding the hostel, but were pleasantly surprised when we did. A very relaxed and fun-going atmosphere gave us some ease. Jeremy and Bridget showed up and were informed of the situation.
No worries – we quickly made plans for the night. A bar that served 1 Euro shots. A wild dance club. And to top it off, a relaxed pub where the beer was waaay too thick. This was exactly what Amanda and I needed. Curiously enough, I got no positive vibe from her. No flirting. The question of why she was here started to creep in my mind.
On our way back to the hostel, we stopped off and got a schawarma to eat. I was disgusted.
Amanda and I had a little tiff outside the hostel. Upon walking into our room, I asked her what was wrong.
“Nothing.”
“Right…well why did you get all weird outside?”
“I didn’t.”
“Whatever.”
She knew I was irritated – rightly so or not. She walked up to me and lightly touched my upper body. Her lips kissed my cheek. Whatever it was that I was upset about – it was erased from my mind.
We got ready for bed. The day had been full of excitement and surprises. But it had been long. Rest was needed.
And this was getting interesting.
Thursday, October 13, 2005
Something Random Speaking to Me
For some, they allow us to escape reality – to join an adventure or a tale far removed from our daily lives. They give us excitement and fulfillment that are otherwise lacking in this place we call “the real world”.
To me, these shows and movies fill me with a mixture of emotions. Yes – I love becoming encircled in these great stories and sagas that I wish were part of my actual life. But there’s a yearning deep inside. A yearning that is called to the surface by these tales.
I want to act.
I want to be part of the story telling. I want to step into different characters; feel what they would feel; experience what they would experience; react how they would react.
A dream. It’s a dream and it’s unrealistic. I know that – but I can’t help it. I’m reminded of a quote I once came across that really hit close to my heart.
“You don’t choose what you love. It chooses you.”
If I could choose not to want to act, I would. I would choose to want to be a doctor. A family doctor – that way you don’t have the craziness of working in a hospital, but you still get paid. However, it just doesn’t work that way, does it?
Somehow, someway, you become exposed to painting, writing, medicine, or acting. And you fall in love with it. Sometimes I lose this yearning. Whenever I get caught up in something like work or school.
Then I’ll randomly come across one of those movies or shows or characters that I love. And it just starts all over again. I love the legend of “Superman”. I know, I’m sure some of you think it’s just a cheesy comic book character. But it’s so much more than that, I promise.
He’s an outsider. Lies surround him because of who he is and what he is destined to do. The weight of the world is on his shoulders. He’s different and he knows it. His destiny is larger than even himself – it’s larger than anything else in the world in which he inhabits.
It’s one hell of a story and I love it. I love the story of Maximus Decimus Meridius. William Wallace. Kal-El.
A long shot – at best. But if you were to kill the yearning…what would happen?
Would you even be alive?
For the Unknown Man
read "For the Unknown Man"
you'll love it
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Chance?
“Fat chance”, I thought. But at least she was willing to give it a shot. I wanted her to come.
Why not? She had several days before needing to be back in England for her sister’s wedding ceremony. It was either stay in Valencia and wait until her flight back or go with me. The decision was easy, the way I saw it. But in what I have found to be typical among the fairer sex, she was quite guarded – unwilling to open up, to allow herself to rely on others, to want, to desire.
I wanted her to not be afraid.
Now, my thinking was quite logical with regard to what local bus we needed to take us to the city bus station. But logic, as we all know, often fails. We boarded the bus that had taken me from the station to the hostel. Obviously, the same bus would take us from the hostel to the station, right? I could not have been more wrong. That damn thing traveled all over Valencia and only at the end of the route did it stop at our destination. The clock read “14:00”. Nice – 30 Euros down the drain.
No worries – it’s only money and at least now Amanda would have no excuse to not go with me. I bought a ticket for the night bus in an effort to save money that would otherwise be spent on a hostel. Fully expecting the girl by my side to follow suit – she folded. Backed down. My spirits dropped.
We each grabbed a baguette and plopped down at a table. Not trying to reveal the fact that I really wanted her to go with me, but also not trying to appear like I didn’t care – I made a case for her to come. A few minutes passed and her eyes looked as if she were wavering. Eventually, she got up and walked to the ticket window. Now we were on this journey together, if only for a few brief days.
We burned several hours wandering around the city. We ate at “The American Restaurant”. I found that funny. During dinner, a local came by offering roses for purchase. I asked how much they were.
“3 Euros”.
So I gave the man a 5 Euro bill – Amanda needed a rose, for sure. Instead of handing me 2 Euros back (again, logic fails), the man handed me 2 roses. A laugh came over me while Amanda took the roses. Whatever – 2 roses are obviously better than 1, right?
Somehow we found ourselves on the roof of a ritzy hotel just around the corner from the bus station. The view of the city stretched on for miles. Music was playing softly and white linen-clothed tables were set up. Not wanting to watch the roses wilt while on the bus, the girl picked the petals and dropped them over the side of the building. Our bus was leaving soon, so we walked inside and hopped in the elevator.
“Not yet”, I thought.
The closing elevator doors were stopped by my hand. What am I doing? Her small hand settled in mine and I pulled her back out onto the roof – saying that I had forgot something. I am no dancer – but I wanted deeply to dance with her. Out on the roof; on top of this city that brought us together; under the sky that watched us grow closer than 2 people have any right to in such a short time.
I found myself holding this girl in my arms and dancing with her.
At that point I was sure of one thing – I was meant to miss my bus earlier that day. Amanda would never have been able to get a seat with me. But God had this whole thing figured out, apparently.
No, this was something much more than chance. This was planned.
Before We Go Any Further...
I'm not a writer. I don't write poetry. I don't have people demanding that I write, sharing it with all the world.
I wish I were - then I would be a better man. But it's not a gift I was given.
So don't think that I'm sitting here, all presumptuous, thinking that I do this well - that I'm writing for the sake of the people reading because they need something beautiful in their life.
No - I'm writing mainly because I experienced this great big fairy tale this summer. Sometimes something pops into my head that I need to spit out, but not often.
So I'm sorry.
The travels continue tonite.
Monday, October 10, 2005
And I Have Been Tagged
Here she goes...
1) Shampoo and Conditioner – Whatever’s Cheapest
2) Soap – Old Spice Body Wash
3) Colors – Red, Black, White, Carolina Blue
4) Soda – Cheerwine, Dr. Pepper, SunDrop, Coke
5) Foods – Chicken Pie, Pasta, Steak, Any Chocolate-Based Dessert
6) Movie – Gladiator, Lord of the Rings Trilogy, Shakespeare in Love, Great Expectations, Braveheart
7) Band – Lifehouse, Coldplay, Three Doors Down, David Grey, Remy Zero, Simple Plan, The Calling, Train, Weekend Excursion, AC/DC, Pachelbel, Alan Jackson, Garth Brooks, Lonestar, Rascal Flatts, Tim McGraw, The Beatles, Nelly, P. Diddy
8) Disney Character - Ummm?
9) Actor – Russel Crowe, Will Ferrel, Tom Welling
10) Actress – Kristin Kreuk, Jennifer Garner, Gwyneth Paltrow
11) Video Games – Halo, Halo 2, ESPN College Hoops, NCAA Football
12) Computer Games – None
13) Store – Express for Men, Zara, Best Buy, Barnes & Noble
14) Alcohol – Long Island Ice Tea, Rum & Coke, Jager Bombs (HA!)
15) Number – 9
16) Car – Aston Martin Vanquish, Aston Martin DB9, Aston Martin V8 Vantage, Jaguar E-Type, Lamborgini Gallardo, Pagani Zonda, Ford GT
17) Book – Wild at Heart, The Journey of Desire, The Greatest Salesman in the World, Atlas Shrugged, The Fountainhead, Look Homeward Angel
18) T.V. Show – Smallville, The O.C., Alias
19) Website – www.insidecarolina.com, www.kryptonsite.com, www.sprintusers.com, www.flickr.com
20) Condiment – Ranch Dressing, Ketchup, Pepper
21) Fruit – Pear, Orange, Granny Smith Apple, Banana, Canteloupe
22) Vegetable – Lettuce?
23) Restaurant – Outback, Olive Garden, Maggianos, Macaroni Grill
24) Blogger – www.oneunknownman.blogspot.com
25) Place – Chapel Hill, Asheville, Granada, Venice, Paris, Sevilla, Cinque Terre, Brussels, Bristol, Brighton, Breckenridge
Friday, October 07, 2005
A First Date
Takes quite a woman to get me to put a flower in my hair
Originally uploaded by uncsuperman.
And so dinner was set. I was going to find a place to eat in this unknown city with this unknown girl. Honestly, I had no idea what I was doing. Only that something about it felt right.
She spoke some Spanish, so I named her the official “dinner orderer” for the night. Me being the dumb, simplistic Southerner that I am had no idea how to say anything in Spanish. So in what would turn out to be a common occurrence, I relied on her and trusted her from the beginning.
Dinner went well. Actually, we walked around the narrow streets of Valencia for a while before settling on a place to eat. As we passed by the deep culture of the city, conversation was steady. We both ate paella and it was tasty but dry. Afterwards, the girl mentioned she had overheard some others at the hostel talking about a Cuban band playing in a park just south of our hostel. Sounds good.
The Cuban music wasn’t quite my bag, but I’m in a foreign country, trying to find myself and I wasn’t about to bail on the night. This girl was attractive, we conversed well, and the others who went with us to the park were chill. At one point during the concert the girl and I lied down under the stars that were hanging in the Spanish night sky.
Drinks and conversation followed on our way home. I was asked whether I voted for Bush. Yea, I did. She seemed appalled. The others were from Britain and appeared like they expected that answer. (For the record, I like Tony Blair, too) Figuring that she would react like some crazed French citizen, I kissed off any possibility of a future relationship right there, assuming that was the end-all circumstance for her. Thankfully, I was wrong.
Our conversation continued long after the others had gone into the hostel. It continues to this day.
The following morning I awoke and headed out into the city for one last day of exploring, for tomorrow a bus would take me into Granada. I did not see the girl and she was staying in another room so I went alone. The Spanish heat drove me back to my hostel early in the afternoon. Walking into my room and turning the corner – the situation from a day ago was reversed. The girl was lying on my bed. On her stomach; reading a book; legs slowly wandering past each other as she rocked them back and forth. She looked for all the world like an angel waiting for me.
I hadn’t realized it until then – but that’s exactly what I wanted. I wanted to see her and I wanted her to have to make an effort to see me. We spent the rest of the day together and found ourselves back at the park we had been in the night before. The music was still playing, but on this night it was about her and I. We listened. We talked. I sat on a bench and she lied next to me.
A few moments passed where all was still. Stars shone brightly. A breeze kissed the back of my neck. The scent of flowers brushed my nose. Sitting there with her – I was content. I wanted for nothing and all was right with the world.
It lasted for a bit longer than you would expect it to – as if God himself was granting me a little extra time to savor one of the best moments of my life.
“This is it, Jonathan. This is what you are here for – this is why I made you.”
“I have no right being this fulfilled. I don’t deserve it.”
“Yes you do. Breathe it in. You will remember this for all the days of your life. You are alive.”
I cannot remember the last time I felt like that, before then. None of this made any sense. She lives 4000 miles away from where I do. We are halfway across the world from our respective lives and our travels will soon separate us.
I invite her to come with me to Granada. She says she will think about it.
Again, we talk into the night. Early morning descends upon us and we take to our beds.
Goodnight, Amanda.