I apologize for my long absence, I try to write something new every couple of days and I think it has been about a week since my last post; I don't presume to think that anyone cannot live without my ramblings, but I do enjoy sharing my experience and my mind so thanks for your patience (grandma).
The city of Cadiz is about an hour and a half to the east of Sevilla, it sits on the coast facing the atlantic ocean and I've heard is one of the most beautiful places in the world to watch the sunset. Its an old city, older than most, founded by the Phoenicians before Rome conquered the world or Christ spoke of a god who loves us forever and ever, amen. Cadiz is also the sight of one of the biggest festivals in Spain, the festival of Carnival. Most places in the world believe that one day is enough for a party, thank you very much, but in Spain a day is barely enough time to get the food on the table and get everyone assembled so parties in Spain, especially ones like carnival that involve hundreds of thousands of people and elaborate costumes, go on for a least a week.
Usually things don't get too out of hand until 9 or 10 o'clock on the first day.
I arrived at 4:30, ready for anything on the day of the biggest party in spain and braced myself for the costumed ruffians that would great me. I walked off the bus and spotted them, there playing on a jungle jim were ten or so children all dressed as the cutest creatures god has blessed us with. One was a kitten, another a chipmunk, another was a baby dressed as a BABY! What is cuter that a baby? Regardless we found the city to be rather charming, a beautiful view of the ocean, a few well meaning costumed men singing songs for the children. This was no grand party, it was a halmark card and we were loving it. We strolled around for a little while longer enjoying the day, snacking on bits of fried dough that are present everywhere in the world but are called by different names. My friends were getting ready to head back to the train station when we saw a bit of commotion behind us. We looked toward the noise and saw that a parade was coming our way and leading the procession were a horde of adorable four year olds playing instruments and dressed as pirates. Now as a man I have a high threshold for cute things, I can see some pretty cute stuff and walk away from it unphased. My female friends on the other hand were in trouble . I turned to look at them and they began regressing before my eyes. My once intelligent strong young friends were on there knees trying to communicate in baby babble we men can not understand. "Whoooseee a cuuuttie booyyyy. Uuuusa cuuuttie boooyyy" and other nonsense like it. Luckily the parade was over soon and they were able to recover in time to catch their train. As I waved goodbye to them I prepared myself for a night of more of the same; charming costumes, children laughing, a few pieces of fried dough. I turned to leave and as I walked a horde of European teenagers yelping and blowing fog horns raced from the bus beside me, and as they stumbled by I realized my evening would be anything but pleasant and charming.
I won't bore you with the monotony of boorish behaviors I was witness to as the evening progressed and the streets filled with five hundred thousand lolligaggers, but it culminated in some upstanding young chap flinging his arms wildly and knocking my glasses to the ground to be crushed by thousands of other oblivious and decidedly un-charming folk. I have since decided that street fairs are fine, and may even be fun under some circumstances, but much more appealing are walks along the ocean with friends in a small town by the coast and the disarming charm of a child.
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