Cordoba

Last weekend in Spain involved a national holiday on the Friday which meant I was of course going to take advantage of the extra day by travelling somewhere exciting. A friend of mine is studying in Cordoba and, given that with the highspeed trains Andalucia is a mere 3 hour journey from Catalonia, I decided to visit him. After several battles with the complete catastrofuck that is the RENFE website, I booked my tickets (rather pricey at 180 Euros - train prices in Spain are determined by the speed of the train) and spent the entire week being a bit too excited and making all the other teachers at my school jealous.

Despite their website being reminiscent of something you would find if you clambered through the bloody looking glass, the RENFE trains themselves are very nice. Comfortable, lots of leg room and bloody fast.

I arrived in Cordoba at about 8 in the evening. After waiting around for-bloody-ever for my friend, ever fashionably late, we walked into the old part of the town for tapas and vino. I was immediately struck by the beauty of the city. It is almost obnoxiously gorgeous. Old Spanish and Moorish influences intertwining to make the most beautiful wonky old buildings and winding, cobbled streets. We had good food (apart from the weird, sweet meatpaste ball things) and then had some vino and cervezas in a hipster bar with bicycles and ambiguously-gendered clientele in unfeasibly tight jeans.

Next day we got up early(ish) to visit the mezquita (mosque) which was just beautiful. We didn't go in because money and hordes of tourists but the exterior was stunning enough.

Sickening, isn't it?

Lots of wandering around followed. I didn't mind. Walking beautiful old streets with good company and the sun beating down is pretty much my idea of heaven. We walked past a christening and had coffee in the shadows of a 900 year old church. 

Obviously the evening involved getting 'British drunk', as my friend's non-UK Erasmus student pals have affectionately (ahem) named it. Friend and I broke off from the Germans and headed for a gay bar which was great. It was tiny but fabulous. Everyone needs a disco ball. Also, we got chatting to some of the loveliest, most comfortable and happy people I've ever spoken to. LUSH. Then there was the 5am rave where a transwoman flashed us her boobs and we danced to Gangnam Style.

This seems to be something of a common theme in these blog posts. 'BEAUTIFUL BUILDINGS! DRUNKEN DANCING!'

Such is life.

Us, looking every inch the glamorous sophisticates we are.