Adventures of the Chocolate Factory

A couple of weeks ago, while my friend Jordan and I were looking at the HUGE wall of chocolate in the grocery store (the Spanish love their chocolate), this British lady must have heard us speaking in English and came up to us. Have you seen the chocolate factory? She asked (add your own British accent). Chocolate factory!?!? We said. Yes, she said, take the tram up to a town called Villajoyosa and there's a chocolate factory there. Get off the tram, walk straight, turn left and then left again and its right there.

Well, of course, this sounds like an adventure. Monday, we decided to go.

After class, four of us hopped on the tram that runs along the Costa Blanca coast, armed with nothing but beach-gear, cameras and the vague knowledge that there was possibly a chocolate factory somewhere around here and tours came hourly. A laughter-filled (and probably stereotypical-obnoxious-loud-Americanized) tram ride later, we step off the tram. And all of a sudden I realize.... oh damn. I am in Spain.

Perhaps this strikes me so suddenly due to the fact that we are clearly the only English-speaking people within forty kilometers. And that our Americanized clothes and terrible accents are suddenly glaringly obvious. Oh, and that, whereas before, I've been living in a city, suddenly I've stepped into a picturesque, crumbling, ancient legitimate Spanish town.

We walk along the streets for a bit, exploring and trying to find the elusive chocolate factory. We practice our Spanish and ask for directions, and finally arrive at the Valor factory just as the tour was beginning. The lady takes us into the tour room and informs us that a tour bus has just pulled up, and we're going to all be doing the tour together. No problem, we reply. Just then, the door opens and approximately 100 Spanish men and women walk into the room -- and let me clarify, when I say Spanish men and women, I mean personas muchas mayores. Aka, we are the only ones under 70. And four pretty American girls with a room full of abuelos is just asking for disaster :)

The Spanish, like the Italians, have no concept of personal space. Especially if you're a joven (young person. Which, in Spain, means under 30. Literally, you get joven prices until you're 30. Yeah!) So, needless to say, we were all best friends within a few minutes :) They were so fascinated by us - I don't know if they've ever met twenty-something Americans before! Lots of fun. They poked and prodded and told us all sorts of funny things. This really round old Spanish man poked my tummy and said, "Gordita, gordita, you like chocolate too? Like me!" and patted his round tummy. In Spain, calling someone gordita isn't a form of insult, it also means like, chubbycute rather than a fatty. You'd call your mom that, or your best friend. It was funny. Quite a cultural difference! Spanish are quite direct -- they'll come up to you and tell you exactly what they're thinking.

Afterwards, we ate lots of free chocolate and then went to explore some more. I didn't want to take any pictures because I didn't want to stand out any more than I already did -- but it was so cool to be in real Spain, with the tiny, tall streets, brightly colored buildings, Spanish tile and potted plants, children playing in the streets and abuelos sitting in rocking chairs on tiny porches and abuelitas sweeping the doorsteps. As we were running around the streets, my friend Jordan runs ahead and calls back to us. "Uh, guys? Come here. I just found paradise."

We turn the corner, and we are standing on the most beautiful beach I have ever seen. There is literally nobody around, the sand is so fine and golden white, palm trees sprouting from the ground. The water is so clear you can see ten feet to the bottom. We arrive right before sunset, as well, so the rays are just absolutely beautiful dancing across the water. The weather is perfectly warm and, when we jump in the water, it is perfectly warm tambien. The Mediterranean is really salty, so you float without even trying. Jordan and I collected a bunch of sea-shells and even saw a bunch of fish! The four of us watched the sun-set over the city, where the brightly colored houses were lining the beach. So, so beautiful. These are the kind of adventures I live for.

And right now, I am listening to my madre's Spanish music (actually I think its Cuban, haha) and packing for London and Paris. What a life.