Mozyin' Through Europe

The snow had different plans, however, forcing the bus to turn around in the middle of the night, and we had ended up in a midway city between Madrid and Barcelona: Zaragoza. After about 4 hours of screaming Spanish ladies and crying Russians and false promises of a bus getting out that day, the bus company finally agreed to refund us some of our money, leaving us in Zaragoza for the night until we could purchase tickets for the next day.

This would, of course, be one of the days we wouldn’t be able to figure out how to work Ryan’s international SIM card, so we had nowhere to go and no phone with which we could fix our current situation. We were stranded in a bus/train station that should have gotten us anywhere we needed to go. We eventually filched some free WiFi from the expensive hotel inside the train station, and booked a cheap hostel for the night. After failed directions from the hostel’s website, we eventually made up our own directions and bus route to where we thought the hostel was, with respect to a theoretically large church right across the river that was marked on the map, hoping that it could serve as some sort of visual aid in finding our way in this unknown and un-heard-of city. We eventually found our hostel, but no one was there to answer the buzzer. Forced to figure out how to use the SIM card, we eventually contacted the woman who owned it. She informed us she was having her siesta across town, and would be back to let us in an hour or so.

Relieved we hadn’t gotten scammed for what would total 25 euro, we went to search for somewhere to eat, that was not closed for the national naptime. On the way, we finally saw the “theoretically large church.” It was gigantean and beautifully crafted so that it glittered in the sun with its huge spires and intricate mosaic tiles and figures that sat atop its huge dome. It was breathtaking. It evoked such a feeling of majesty and age that would never be surpassed in young buildings of even the states of the northeast. After several touristy, backpacked pictures, we found a bar that had sandwiches, according to the outside window, but no menu, so that we had to make up our own meal and ask the woman running the place if she could make it. Satisfied by the huge sandwich, we walked back to our hostel and found a charming three room hostel and an even more charming woman, with a distinctive Spanish lisp, upon our return. She then gave us a map, and told us the sights we must see, showed us our breakfast in the fridge, and left us to nap.

Waking up felt like a new day, and Zaragoza was beautiful without the faint annoyance of the inconvenience of the morning and small pangs of tiredness and hunger. We visited the church, and I finally understood how easy, with something as magnificent and beautiful as this in a medieval city, it would be to believe in something greater and more God-ly than the inhabitants of this earth.

Saw some more ancient architecture, right next to more modern, actually artful graffiti, walked along the river, and then strolled around town into the night. Whilst walking, we saw a shop selling some creepy KKK looking robes, but they might have been a religious thing. Ended up getting a pizza to go, going back to the room to watch some Project Runway, and called it a night.