We all eventually arrive at our hostel in Sevilla. To start off with the hostel was really great. Good beds, free internet, and a roof top terrace witha small pool and all taht for 15 euros per night. They also organized events for the people staying there like a dinner on the rooftop with a good thee course meal and free Sangria. They also organize Tapas tours. S owhat are Tapas tours. In spain its a way of life, a pasttime (we are told) to go to a bar around 9 or 10 and oder Tapas, spanish appetizer, and a drink. Once you finish your Tapa dn drind, you make you way to the next Tapas Bar, our tour just lead us throughout town to twhat hte considered to be the best onees. At the end they took us to see Flemenco dancing. It was a more contemporary style with a small live band. I probably would do a poor job of describing it so I ll jus say t was really cool.

Another thing that was fun about Spain was seeing the different Patterns of daily life.

(Okay I need to pause here and make this statement. I have come to the conclusion that if you are traveling and you want to come away with a slightly clearer idea of the culture you experiencing compared to your own and others, you have to make broad and generalized conclusions based on a limited information. You need to take little occurences and turn them into representative actions of the entire city or region. This can be inaccurate and insulting but you must do it. Even as I have spent 7 months in Stuttgart and 3 months in Vienna, I feel that without these Stereotypes and generalizations based on limited personal experience and conversations, I would have nothing to say besides Stuttgart is clean and Vienna is Baroque...and some people would probably disagree with me in some way on those claims) if you have ever tried to get a sense for another culture before you know what i am talking about, if you say you dont, then you lie, liar.

So with that in mind. (Southern) Spaninsh people are not punctual. They are consistently late but through some strange paradox, the patterns of their daily life are as predictable as clockwork. All the stores open about 5 to 10 minutes after the time that they say they will. At this point, life begins. People slowly wander out in to the streets filling them to medium capacity. It stays this way until about 2 when the stores close and people make their ways to the restaurants. Its funny how some streets look totally empty at this time but when you come to a square, people are overflowing from the Taverns, standing and talking, eating and drinking, being very spanishy. After this siesta/superlonglunchbreak things slowly resume in a normal fashion. Then at about 7 or 8 something happens, people flood the streets; perhaps they're going to buy something, maybe they are walking to dinner, maybe they just want to look spanish so they go in the streets at this time and where a t-shirt that says, "I'm spanish, how could I not be, I'm in a busy pedestrian steet at 8 oclock". But after this something even more incredible happens, the stores close early and by 9:30 the streets look like a ghost town. A quiet wind howls and a lone newspaper tumbles out of sight. But dont fear, as if they had a town hall meeting concerning what to do about the empty streets and someone stood up and said, "we can solve this problem by eating dinner and going to tapas bars," the southern Spaniards flock in numbers to the districts that provide such services. After this period, reinforments are needed. The young people are then dispatched in sparkling regiments armed with mopeds and evening sunglassess to hold the city down until the morning when the old people wake up and take over. In the words of lambchops, "this is the song that never ends, yes, it goes on and on my freinds, some people started singing it not knowing what it was, and they'll continue sining it forever just because it is the song that doesn't end, yes, it goes........on.....and.......on........"