Semana Santa: Fuerteventura

Since it was Semana Santa, we got the last ten days off of school which meant major traveling for most people.

For this girl, it meant a whole lotta ocean, sun, sand, and relaxing. After making the crucial mistake of checking my bank statements, I decided that I couldn’t exactly afford an extravagent multi-country trip. Polly and I decided to save some money and stay at an all inclusive resort, H10 Tindaya, on the island of Fuerteventura in the Canary Islands.

Where is Fuerteventura, you ask? It’s okay. I didn’t know either. Three days into the trip, I turned to Polly and said “I don’t even know where we are on a map”. Before you start judging me, you should know that all the maps of Spain have the Canary Islands in a little box in the corner. Kind of like Hawaii and Alaska on maps of the United States. It’s the sorry-you-can’t-fit-into-our-map-so-here-is-your-reject-corner box.
So I did what I always do when I need to know answers to my questions….I googled it!

It doesn't get much simpler than this.

See? There we are. Allllllllll the way by Morocco. It was a three hour plane ride and a one hour time difference.

Since I did a whole lot of nothing this trip I decided I would just hit the highlights.

1. “Sleeping” in the airport: Our flight was at 6:25 am on Monday morning, so I was forced to take the 8:00 p.m. bus on Sunday night from Salamanca to Madrid. This is normally a 2.5 hour journey, but there was some sort of traffic issue about 500 feet away from the bus station in Madrid and it took us an hour to complete the last 500 feet. Once I arrived at the bus station, I waited for Polly’s bus to arrive (we had to take two buses because I accidentally bought the last ticket to the 8:00 bus….oops). We ventured onto the metro along with about 400 of our closest Spanish friends! And by Spanish friends, I obviously mean complete strangers who were also trying to make it to the airport. It was a mad house. The last time I felt that claustrophobic was at the Presidential Inauguration in 2009, but that’s a different story. We finally made it to the airport, bought some food, watched a movie and then it was time to check in and get on the flight! Did you guys notice the absence of “sleep” on that list?

2. The plane ride:  This is normally an uneventful part of the trip, but a Fuerteventura soccer team was on our flight! The players were all different ages, so Polly and I got excited because we knew one of them would have to sit next to us. Unfortunately, what appeared to be the youngest player on the entire team sat next to me. Qué suerte. At one point, his friend, who was not much older, asked him to switch seats, but he refused. His friend sat down and asked him if he was going to talk to us, but he said no because we wouldn’t understand him (we were speaking English). Clearly, this wasn’t the case….we understood you, little soccer player! The next thing I know, his friend turns to us and says “You are very beautiful!” I think this is one of the first English phrases that Spaniard men are taught because we tend to hear this one a lot. Along with the occasional “I love you”. And if we are really lucky, we get “You are very beautiful. I love you!”
Definitely entertainment for the three hour flight.

3. Our resort: Or as I like to call it….Italy. Seriously. The owners of the hotel are Italian, so the place was about 80% Italians, 19.99% Germans, and .01% Polly and Blakely. One night, we decided to go to the Italian theatre and see what was going on. We ended up making friends with two Italian boys that were a little older than us, the Italian animadores that worked there and put on all the shows, and the Spanish/Italian bartender. On our second night at the Italian theatre, one of the animadores, Marco, called a little boy up to the stage and starts whispering to him in Italian. The next thing we know, every single person in the whole place is staring and Polly and me. We nervously glance and laugh at each other. Are they talking about us?! What are they saying?! I have a bad feeling about this. I wish I could speak Italian! The little boy walks up to us and asks us for our names. I say “Blakely” which, of course, generates a weird face. I give up and tell him that my name is “Elizabeth”. Ohhhh Elisabetta!  Five seconds later, Polly and I are being dragged onto the stage. Marco then proceeds to mock Polly’s name by comparing it to Heidi and starts making sheep noises at her. We still haven’t figured that one out. After asking us a few questions in English, he finally let us out of the spotlight. For the rest of the week, random people kept waving at us and saying our names. We felt like such celebrities.

H10 Tindaya, our resort.

4. My schedule: 
Waking up, eating breakfast, laying by the pool/beach, eating lunch, laying by the pool/beach, showering, eating dinner, going to the theatre/disco, sleeping, repeat.

A little happier (if that's even possible). A little tanner (definitely possible).

Who doesn’t love that?

I was so sad when I had to leave. I knew that I would probably never be there or see those people ever again. Te echo de menos, Fuerteventura!

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