On the window seat of Alex: Por las calles

5 junio 2012

I want to describe what I see every time I walk through the streets of Gijón to my Instituto.

First of all, I say "Hasta luego" to my host family and shut the door and head down two, dark flights of stairs, past a mirror on the right wall. I push the little silver button on the door handle that releases it. Then I step out onto the street.

Their archtechture has so many swirls here. : ]

It's a narrow street with cobblestoned sidewalks. All the side streets are pretty narrow, mostly all one-ways. We live next to a bar, which is quiet during the day, but slowly gains more tenants who stand outside smoking, holding dog leashes as the day progresses. On the corner is a pandería with bread galore, and some sweets as well. I cross the street and head up toward the small highway next to a park. Crossing the streets is an art. They show a green walking person or a red person. Once the green person starts flashing (you know what I mean) then you know you have to hightail it out of that street. It's basically a five-second warning. And once that light changes, the cars spur out of there. If they don't leave in that first second, a car behind them will honk to let them know the light has changed. If you're brave, you can try to walk when it's red. There are lines on the street, so technically it's legal, but... it's pretty sketchy. I generally only do it when I'm in a hurry or when it's a one-way and it's easy to cross.

Anyway, so then I turn and head past a gym that always thumps with music and vigor, and then past the mall. I ventured in there yesterday to buy esmalte (nail polish) since I left mine at home.

As I walk I always note the same things. Everyone seems to have dogs here. I've seen a gazillion Westies and Yorkies and tons of other small dog breeds. People don't usually smile at you, either. But if you're lost and you stop to get directions, people are always kind and helpful.

I hold my breath as I walk by the fish stores. It never works though; the smell permeates a good block of the street. I try to avert my eyes. Seafood is just too much for me. The bakeries, though, smell amazing. They boast tantalizing window displays with pastries and chocolates. I have my eye on a chocoalte canoli and I always check to see that they still have it each time I walk by.

Only on the way home do I pass this chocolate shop that I have yet to venture into. Trust me, I think I've made it a goal to try as many Spanish chocolate desserts as I possibly can. My reputation here is that of a chocolate addict. Oh well, it's true.

Then, after some seafood and bakery shops (along with other furniture stores, travel agencies, etc.), I cross another highway and pass through a kids' park. It's a large park that dominates the block and helps me gain my bearings. After the park, I walk past a blue and white mosaic structure that's really beautiful but seems to be overlooked. It's pretty amazing. There's an amazing church behind it.

My last street has a lot of clothing vendors. I have to constantly remind myself that I'm not here to buy clothes, because everything is really attractive as it's modeled in store windows. I've already peeked into a few of them. Those darn Europeans have style.

This is normal. Nobody uses dryers here.

Then I pop out of the dark street and into a town square, by the El Parchis bus stop. And the Instituto. I walk through the square, past many benches and comfortable people watchers and head around the corner and into the Instituto. After two flights of stairs, I walk into Aula (Classroom) # 1, and I'm there.

Here are some other pictures from the incredible city of Gijón.