6.9.13

Weekend Waste War II -- Results

I apologize for the delay… sometimes I feel like Labor Day winds up putting on more pressure than it relieves… Oh well, the abbreviated work week that follows is always welcome.

Alvaro, our roommate, and I debated about how we could compost… from the second story… without the stank… while having the bin as convenient as the trash can (if not more so). We don’t mind going the extra step to compost our food scraps outside, but we knew our guests would be more apt to do it if they were faced with the choice outright-- both receptacles right next to each other!

Here’s what we decided on:
- A 5-gallon bucket in the kitchen (sans worms), as accessible as the trash can. We leave the lid off when actively using it; close it when our grubbin’ is done. We continue adding newspaper to cut down on odor, but it never really gets stinky anyway, since we empty it every other day or so.
- The bucket’s contents get transferred to the downstairs vermicomposting bin. Every other week, we use an old screen to sift the processed compost (AKA worm shit) from the food scraps.
- We save the resulting rich fertilizer in a bucket for use in the garden all year round. If we create more than we can use, nearby friends and community gardens can take it off our hands.
- The recycling bin is a bigger version of the trash can (hand-me-downs from Alvaro’s parents). Richmond’s curbside recycling service occurs every two weeks, so we periodically transfer its contents downstairs to the large bin the city provided.

*Photos are a comin’ soon, sorry!

MIND MUNCHIES:

Do you compost?
If so, how? If not, what’s stopping you (living arrangements, etc.)?

Note: I will not be waging a Weekend Waste War for the blog this weekend... but fear not, the war continues...

30.8.13

Weekend Waste War II -- Kitchen Scraps

Happy Friday of Labor Day weekend, fellow laborers.

I’m sick and tired of not keeping up with composting. We have vermicompost outside in the backyard we share with our downstairs neighbors, but the trick is keeping a compost container accessible and convenient in the kitchen, which we fill and then every week or so take downstairs to the worms. (Here's a great local link about how to compost with worms)

This weekend, I’ll be tackling food waste at home (remember, food waste is the theme for THIS UPCOMING ZERO-WASTE WEEK!). My goal is to improve the efficiency of our composting system to fully eliminate our kitchen’s contribution the city’s trash. I’d also like to learn how to better store our goodies; I’d be afraid to know how many spoiled edibles we end up throwing out over time… or all the wasted funds they represent.

I’d also like to get my whole house on board with avoiding the use of trash bags. If you really think about it, virtually all wet waste you create in the kitchen can be composted! Lend me your ideas for reducing kitchen rubbish!

Here’s to bigger compost bins, smaller trash cans, fatter wallets, fuller bellies, and a happy Mama Earth. (Phew, is that too much to for one toast?)

Cheers!

26.8.13

Lessons from Costa Rica -- Redefining Natural Gas

Welcome to the first installment of a new mini-series, Lessons from Costa Rica. Alvaro and I and a dozen others studied abroad in this incredible country in 2011 and learned more than we ever could have imagined in a mere two-and-a-half weeks. We stayed at numerous eco-lodges and with families, immersing ourselves in a whole new perspective on sustainability. [See first post about the Costa Rica trip here].

At La Finca Educativa de Don Juan in La Fortuna, this commitment permeated every single activity on the land, from the most minute to the largest actions, leading to truly holistic responsible land stewardship. For one, they were able to provide 100% of the kitchen's cooking gas... without having to pay a natural gas company hundreds of dollars to fetch it from thousands of feet underground! What was the source, then, you ask? Two cows. Yes, you herd me correctly (couldn't resist).
Basic diagram of a biodigester
The cows are fed each meal at a specific trough...

...those meals leave the other end, landing on a special platform...
...where they then find their way into the biodigester 'bubble': where the gas / slurry is collected and released methane is captured. It is then sent to the kitchen via the green pipe.

For your viewing displeasure...



Surfing trash in Indonesia

 Read article here.



25.8.13

Weekend Waste War I -- Results

The beautiful Lakeside Market
 Alvaro and I split our shopping between the Lakeside Farmers' Market and Whole Foods. We were virgins to both locations. We went to the market first to get what we could from local, responsible farmers, and what we couldn't find there, we'd get at Whole Foods. Their bulk section blew my mind! Build you own trail mix? Bulk honey and agave nectar? I was too
impressed. Does anyone else remember their *first time* to bulk heaven?



Farmers' Market bounty

Here's the waste count for both trips:

Total Waste (Lakeside):
- 2 berry basket 'nets'
- 1 plastic produce bag: one farmer tucked our zucchini and squash into one when we weren't looking, after we'd already asked for none. Oh well, old habits die hard I guess. We give these bags as many lives as we can, but I count 'em as waste since they'll eventually find their way to a landfill =(
-Beef bratwurst packaging
(On our next visit, we'll return the berry and potato baskets for future use.)

Whole Foods bounty
Total Waste (Whole Foods):
-3 plastic bulk bags
-3 twisty ties
-1 metal tie from the coffee bag
-2 small plastic ramekins from samples =/
-4 stickers on which items and PLUs were written
-1 wine cork



    We definitely need to take more jars next time. We had no idea, either, that you're supposed to take your own containers to Customer Service to get them tared prior to shopping... oops. We did that on our own at the bulk scale and really confused the cashier.
Bulk coffee bag from Whole Foods
Room for improvement:
-We'll refuse the berry basket nets that are meant to keep the berries from spilling. We tried in vain to think of any other uses for them. Ideas?
-Take more jars!
-Make bags for produce out of old clothes or pillow cases
-Don't use stickers, just write with... washable marker? Grease pencil? What's best?
-How to avoid trash from sampling:
       -Turn them down next time (unthinkable)
       -Have the sample person drop the goodies right into our hands (too messy)
       -Bring our own little cups (BINGO)

MIND MUNCHIES:

How do you think we could have done better?

What garbage do you create by grocery shopping that you hadn't really thought about before?

Random: Why do our palms get sweaty when we're up high? That doesn't seem like a good survival adaptation. When grabbing onto something is a life or death situation, that's when I need my hands to be drier than the Sahara.



23.8.13

Weekend Waste War I -- Grocery shopping

I'm waging this weekend's war on grocery shopping waste.

Every weekend, I will choose an area of my life or specific activity in which I feel I create unnecessary waste. Then, I'll tackle that challenge like London Fletcher and report the outcomes here.

The battle doesn't stop on Monday, though-- the real challenge is to perpetuate these efforts throughout the coming weeks and months, gradually turning them into life-long habits! Wish me luck; this one may be tough.

Richmond: Where do you do the bulk of your bulk shopping?

22.8.13

Lit Lit series is here

Introducing bi-weekly posts of literature on fire!

These excerpts and artful works ignite my soul & remind me why I do what I do. I'll also sneak in some media sometimes, such as inspiring videos, visual art, and presentations.

Today's radiance was written by Kahlil Gibran:

"All things in this creation exist within you, and all things in you exist in creation; there is no border between you and the closest things, and there is no distance between you and the farthest things, and all things, from the lowest to the loftiest, from the smallest to the greatest, are within you as equal things. In one atom are found all the elements of the earth; in one motion of the mind are found the motions of all the laws of existence; in one drop of water are found the secrets of all the endless oceans; in one aspect of you are found all the aspects of existence."

I wanna know: what artists light you up?

21.8.13

HoOrAh! ZERO-WASTE WEEK is near! Sept 2-8, 2013

The UK's 6th annual Zero-Waste Week will be focusing on food waste. Visit the website to learn more, participate, and network with other like-minded, big-hearted, trash-free, small-(carbon)footed folk! The event's partnered with the Rubbish Diet. Participation in Zero-Waste Week has grown every year, but so far, it's still organized nationally. Let's help bridge the gaps and let their efforts spread internationally!

Here at Talk Trashy to Me, I'll be keeping with the food theme and posting each day about how I reduce kitchen waste. I'll also be touching on how to effectively (and odorlessly) compost in a small space.

MIND MUNCHIES:
What part of your life do you think creates the most waste?
What kind of waste have you discovered is the most challenging to eliminate?
How do you reduce waste caused by your eating habits?

Do share...

20.8.13

Camping in Venezia -- Pt. II

The campground was filled with tiny cabins, pre-assembled tents with cots (Alvaro's and my accommodations), and areas for your own tents and RVs. There was a huge group of Uruguayan students, in Venice to study architecture. There was one traveling class made up of Indian, Austrian, German, and Turkish students (all of whom spoke English together but also seemed to know three other languages). I'll never forget how that made my world feel so limited, only knowing one language. How arrogant of me and my country's narrow education system. You could be telling me that my undies are showing, or that I have a booger the size of a euro hanging out of my nostril, and I'd still stand here with a goofy, oblivious smile on my face, wouldn't I?

Venice itself was more beautiful than any cheesy brochure had ever lead on. Wave after wave of tourists choked out the main thoroughfares as if shopping was the only thing they could think of to do, so it was very easy to stray from the wider roads and get happily lost. Tourism in Venice is a fragile, often self-destructing entity. The line every traveler must walk between "helpful" and "harmful" is especially fine in Venice. The city is overwhelmed with disposing of the constant influx of trash, so if you bring/create any on the islands, be sure to leave with it, too, and dispose of it appropriately somewhere on the mainland.

Fruits and nuts

"Your soft joy...": Reflections of Venetian Water... there were potable water spigots everywhere, just above not-so-potable canals

No, we didn't ride a gondola. 100+ Euros. Watching the gondoliers expertly maneuver these things was satisfying enough.

Contrary to popular belief, the fluctuating tides of Venice assuredly won't be the main players in its demise; Venetians have had centuries to adapt to them. 21st century tourism, on the other hand, just might be key. More people in developing countries have more money than ever before, and they're taking it to places like Venice. It's just not always flowing through the right channels. What threatens Venice more urgently, rising sea levels, or the rising affluence of an increasing world population? How do you know where to spend your foreign money, so that it helps the local economy? Give me your thoughts.

Camping in Venezia

Note to self: Next time, try to break up train ride from Paris to Venice. Don't marathon it. ever. again.

Here's a riddle for ya: How many vagabonds does it take to find a Venetian campground?

Answer: Apparently, six. With five different nationalities.

"Camping in Venice" sounds a little oxymoronic, but staying in a little tent in Camping Rialto on the mainland of the city wound up being one of the best parts of the trip. After spilling out into the street by the train station, Alvaro and I asked multiple Italians (in Spanish; I learned they are basically the same language!) if they had heard of the campground. After four or five "No"s, we finally got a "Si." Our next inquiry, its location, was slightly more difficult. We were told, all in all, to take at least three different bus routes... and of course, the bus schedule, like the rest of everything we experienced in Italy, was more a rough possibility than a reliable rule.
 
After waiting too long with too many pounds on our backs, we thanked someone who'd been quite helpful and informed him that we were just going to hoof it. The response: "Rialto is like ten kilometers away, friends! There's no way you can walk there (insert dramatic hand gestures here)!" Let me tell you something. Walking is free, sexy, and better for the environment. If you have functioning legs and a good heart, never let anyone tell you can't walk somewhere (unless of course the route in question would take you into highly violent gang territory. Then please, please don't walk there.).

One block later, we caught up with fellow backpackers, Jeanne and Leo (a French/Columbian couple). They had also grown weary of Italian bus nonsense and decided to trek. Their destination? Also the infamous Camping Rialto! After continuing for 30 more minutes and getting turned around once or twice, we encountered (insert hard-to-prounounce-and-even-harder-to-spell Polish names here). After about three hours of hiking (or dragging, rather, and asking directions at the wrong campground), we stumbled, exhausted, into the right one.



20.4.13

Pinching Pennies in Paris

View from La Tour Eiffel
...some would say it's impossible. Paris' prices are what nearly kept us from seeing the iconic capital of France, but as luck would have it, our hosts in Limoges had a friend in Paris who was sympathetic to budget travelers, having previously been one himself. We would stay two nights, for free. We exchanged appreciative goodbyes with the realization that we may never see our new-found friends again.

        On the train, we endured fitful naps between stints of gawking out of the cafeteria car's windows at the blurred landscape beyond. It resembled an amateur watercolor painting. Fingers extended and mouths agape, we marveled at the smeared scenery outside the high-speed train. Having noticed our trance, the barista answered our silent question. "320 kilometers per hour," she said, without glancing up from her screaming milk wand.

        I cannot truly do Paris justice; the time we spent there was far too short to even scratch the surface. Leaving an area as quickly as we came in is not very "sustainable," I'll admit, but we tried to make the most out of it. Having only one full day to work with, we asked our host Jonathan what were the must-sees. Not surprisingly, he recommended the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, Norte Dame, and the like. We prodded him to give us a taste of Paris beyond the famous sights and said that we intended to walk everywhere. We didn't want to waste one second of our one day in one of the largest cities on Earth in a metro. First stop: the Eiffel Tower. From that incredible view, our fingers would etch our route into the cityscape. After priming our legs with hundreds of vertical feet, we parted the concrete jungle.

Coin hunting

The Louvre

Outside the Louvre

Merchant in a less-visited market plaza (will have name soon). One of my favorite places we visited. Seldom saw tourist-types here; mostly Parisians doing their grocery shopping. The frommage shop, especially, stopped us in our tracks.

Stumbling into high mass at Notre Dame. Those immense, eerie organ echos could make anyone a believer (well, almost...).

Pont de l'Archeveche (the "Love Lock" Bridge), where romantics lock their love into eternity and throw the key into the river. We might have contributed, but we just couldn't bear to leave behind a good & practical lock...

Flutist at the Louvre. We happened to be in Paris on a Tuesday, the one day the Museum is closed. The courtyard may have been just as entertaining, though.


5.4.13

Oradour-sur-Glane

        To reach Oradour-sur-Glane we first wound through a memorial museum dedicated to documenting and remembering the events of the fateful night and to preserving the remains of the town. Squinting at the small English subtexts on the displays, we learned that on June 10th, 1944, a team of about 200   German Waffen-SS soldiers raided the town while everyone was gathered in the central square and separated the men from the women and children. The men were divided into small groups and trapped in burning garages while they were barraged with gunfire. The women and youth were led to the church, of all places, which was set on fire and also showered in bullets. When the genocide was over, five men, one woman, and not a single child had managed to escape. 642 people were murdered during the one-day massacre.

A moving quote in the memorial museum
A moving quote in the memorial museum
        Today, the charred remains of the town have been preserved almost exactly as they were left that day as a memorial to those lost, while a second Oradour-sur-Glane was built adjacent to the ruins in the 1950s. Amazingly, there is still no universally accepted theory on the motivations behind the attack, but you can read about the politics and events leading up to it here and here.

        We would never have known about this place if it hadn't been for our hosts. This is not somewhere you see (nor should see) in tourist brochures. It is frozen in time by the death and destruction that occurred there nearly 70 years ago, and you can't experience it without being infused with a deep appreciation for the simple privilege of being alive, that we so naturally take for granted each day but that is denied to too many. Bastien and Lucie say they are outraged at how so many people could die for absolutely nothing, but if those people could see an American couple and a French couple walking together today through the site of their last hours; mourning, remembering, and learning from others' errors; they might find some peace.

        We asked the museum curators and our hosts if taking photos was appropriate; they all said it was okay. Something just didn't feel quite right to me about it, but if they are used in a respectful way for the purposes of spreading awareness, honoring the deceased, and attempting to prevent such brutality in the future, then I think that's perfectly acceptable. What do you think?

3.4.13

Limoges, continued

Splash of color
        The center of Limoges looks unchanged from centuries past. Virtually every building is in traditional Tudor style, while the outer walls that may once have been stark white have been stained a soft coffee hue by weather and time. We happened upon another festival (we had the best luck with this somehow), one focusing on dance, theater, music, and the diverse cultures mingling in Limoges. Bastien, his girlfriend Lucie, and their cat Lulu were fun and gracious hosts. Both of them do environmentally-focused work, both are talented performers, and we pretty much have identical taste in music but with much to share and exchange. (Um, did we just become best friends?)
Cheesier than fontina in this one =]
  
"Les Francophonies en Limousin" line-up
Arriving at the start of the weekend, we were able to have them as our guides throughout each day. We dove into so many facets of the local culture, from sneaking samples of culinary herbs in a botanical garden, to swapping recipes with Bastien and Lucie's friends and washing it all down with bitter red wines; sharp, creamy cheeses; and flaky breads that melted on our tongues like cotton candy. 

Yes, nearly everything we did in Limoges involved gastronomy.
Fish pond at the Gardens


The Cathedral's Botanical Gardens



But if there was one place that affected me the most on this trip, it would be the town of Oradour-sur-Glane. A short drive from Limoges, it was the site of unspeakable atrocities during the Second World War.

It deserves a post all its own.

28.1.13

Long live Limoges

        Now this is where the trip went astray... in the best of all possible ways it turns out, although it just seemed hopeless at first. Our plan (a word that should largely be left out of your vocabulary while traveling...) was to catch a train from Barcelona to Paris. Now, this sounds relatively simple. And it would be, if we were residents of Europe who can just book trains online. However, having a Eurail pass, we were forced to get prices in person (since you save on each train, the clerks need to check the validity of your pass). So, we leave our hostel and show up at the train station, gear and all, ready to get an overnight ride to northern France. At this point, I forget all the nitty-gritty details (probably a good thing), but after many attempts at finding the right combination of schedules and transfers (at the right price was the kicker), we were told that we couldn't get a train to Paris in the next few days for under €100 each, even with the Eurail discount.

        Embarrassing. Back to the hostel and the drawing board.

        Even if we made it to Paris without paying an arm and a leg, we had still scoured AirBnB and Albergues Juveniles (an immensely helpful Spanish search engine for youth hostels worldwide) and couldn't find any lodging remotely close to the city center, or even the ends of the metro lines, within our budget. (Our first approach for finding [free] accommodation is always Couchsurfing, but although it's a great site, it didn't work out for a couple of reasons... one being that we are a couple). So finally, since Paris wasn't in our original plan anyway, we decided to cut our losses and avoid the most expensive destination after all. This decision really freed us up for the fun part- talking to other guests that had been to France for advice... and exploring a map of France and Googling every town we could before someone else needed the hostel's computer.

        When we found (on AirBnB) the inexpensive, charming apartment of a young couple in the small city of Limoges, that was it. We went from not knowing this place existed to arriving at its
center in about ten hours. This is the type of travel I live for.

Limoges (pronounced Lee-mōzs)
        We missed the train by ONE minute. ONE measly minute. It is almost worse to see it pulling away without you than to have missed it by an hour. Catching another train wouldn't be a problem; we wouldn't have a fee to pay, either, so that didn't upset me. What upset me was the fact that we told our hosts in Limoges our arrival time in advance... Which would now be three hours later... And we didn't have a computer in order to message them... And the Spanish cell phones Alvaro's dad let us borrow didn't work in France.  Asking to borrow a cell phone in one's own country is easy. Asking to to borrow a cell phone in another language is a whole different animal... Especially if that language is one to which you've never been exposed. You should have seen the looks I got, scraggly nomad that I was, sputtering broken French to sharp-dressed business-types. Anyway, long story... well, I guess it's too late for short, isn't it? We made it.

Poor Bastien had arrived at the station to meet us at 5:00 PM and had to return at 8:00PM due to our delay. But being the kind, easy-going soul that he is, he didn't seem to mind.

Thus commenced our adventures in small-town France.


23.1.13

Inevitable Insomnia in Ibiza



        What can I say about Ibiza (or Eivissa, in the native language, Catalan)? This tiny island is one of the Islas Baleares, surrounded by the Baltic Sea to the north and Mediterranean to the south. It is about 1/5 the area of Rhode Island with a residential population of around 100,000. More than two million tourists visit this Mediterranean nightlife hub annually (Issues, 2013). World-class DJs perform on a regular basis, attracting young partiers from all over the globe. Even the airport hosts the likes of Eric Prydz and David Guetta. We didn't visit until late September (staying only three nights... that's about our limit of 6AM bedtimes) and still encountered more English- than Spanish-speakers.
        And I thought 'touristy' described Benidorm...
Boat party

       With such an expansive tourist impact occurring, one has to wonder how the island handles it all. There are many organizations (governmental and non-gov.) that seek to mitigate some of these impacts, from eco-tourism initiatives to massive clean-up operations throughout tourist season. There is a wide spectrum of opinions on whether or not they're doing a good enough job. Sustainability, however, has many faces, and Ibiza strives to sustain its rich cultural heritage alongside its natural environment. We can't leave out economic sustainability, either, and one certainly cannot address this without noting the considerable revenue tourism has brought Ibiza for decades.

El Capitan


Ibiza shore
        Álvaro and I stayed in the old port town of Sant Antoni, on the other side of the island from the capital harbor, also called Ibiza, A.K.A. Eivissa or Ibiza Town. Sant Antoni may not be the biggest town, but it is not without its own brand of rambunctiousness. If you want to know more, check out this BBC article from 2001 about the well-established controversy over clubbing tourism. We spoke to residents about their opinions of the tourist season, and they were just as varied as the bars and pubs dotting the beach. Some Balearios think most tourists (most notably the English, actually) are rude and impatient. Others welcome all visitors (and their spending money) with open arms and can be found at many of the clubs each night, themselves. Many don't mind the craziness but would like nightlife tourists to be less careless and more aware of their surroundings.

Pryda Frenzy (Eric Prydz and his girlfriend performing at Amnesia)
        Whatever the perspective, Ibiza's infamous marcha remains a reality for awhile yet. One can only hope that the island can find an equilibrium between its worldwide reputation and the people and resources that host it.

Reference:

Issues of Concern (2013). Ibiza Preservation Fund <http://www.ibizapreservationfund.org/english/issues/>

20.1.13

Eclectic, Eccentric, Euphoric... Barcelona


Spooky, fantastical Sagrada Familia light production to kick off Mercè Festival
        As we climbed the stairs out of the metro en route to our hostel, we encountered a long, snaking line of tourists that wrapped around the whole block. After walking, watching and wondering for a few moments, we finally asked someone, "Porqué hay una fila?" to which an excited Spaniard announced, "La Sagrada Familia, tios!" We had surfaced into the realm of Barcelona, straight from the train station, right next to the most iconic monolith of the city, if not the entire region of Catalonia. The eerie spires of the masterpiece of the late, great architect Antoni Gaudí towered over us as we rounded the next corner.  

The gegants (giants) of La Mercè Festival
        Little did we know at the time that we had stumbled into Barcelona during the annual La Mercè Festival. This weekend-long party near the end of each September began in 1871 as Catalonia's celebration of the Roman Catholic feast day of Our Lady of Mercy (patron saint of Barcelona). Each night, a spectacular light display on the side of La Sagrada Familia kicks off the festivities. Then every plaza in the city is alight with live music and performances, ranging from African drumming to The Beatles tribute bands. Everyone seems to participate in some way, whether through acrobatics, theater, poetry, or some other kind of artistic expression.

Street vendor capturing young imaginations

Biggest bubble!

All done with spray paint sans brushes, in about 15 minutes flat

Fresh squeezed juices in a market

Museu d'Art Contemporani de Barcelona: yarn bombing and panorama

Gaudí's famous Parc Güell

"Occupy and Resist"

        On another note: This city is so young! Just walk a few blocks and it will seem like the entire place is run by 20-30 somethings (as evidenced by this article on 2008 demographics). So many travelers we met had turned in their nomadic lifestyle for roots in Barcelona. The lure and energy of this city is palpable!

Next stop: Ibiza. Interestingly enough, a plane with Ryan Air is cheaper than a ferry. Who'da thunk it?
        I have tried and, so far, failed at finding any conclusive or reliable information on what form of transportation is more "green." As stated above, our reason for eventually going with a plane was the price. The flight was full, so that's one more-passengers-fewer-trips point for Ryan Air, but I know residents of the region take full advantage of the ferries that criss-cross the Balearic Sea (they get a pretty good discount).
        In terms of planes, ours was a relatively small passenger aircraft (the flight only took about an hour). But in terms of ferries, the Balearia boats are quite large. So which uses more fuel? Which is the Earth-friendliest option, in this case or generally? Thoughts?

19.1.13

Clubbing, cascading, & harpooning, oh my!

        ¡Hola, everyone! So, the ability to post a blog entry from each location proved entirely too difficult (well, impossible, most of the time) mostly because Álvaro and I lacked our own computers. Posting to the blog meant hunting down an internet café, and when we bothered to do that, it was for more pressing matters, like finding accommodation. I am starting to synthesize all of my thoughts, experiences and images now, after becoming more settled here in Richmond. Thanks for your patience. Keep up with us and leave a comment if you wish!

*        *        *        *        *

        Our time in the city of Benidorm and adjacent towns of Polop and La Nucía on the Mediterranean coast of Spain was filled with perfect weather, more family, phenomenal tapas, and lots of dog hair. I fell in love with the people in this laid-back coastal town while spending many wind-blown car rides with Álvaro`s uncle`s Jack Russell terrier, Dixie, scurrying over my lap.

From el patio de la abuela de Álvaro
Beach life

        On the surface, within the sustainability sphere, Benidorm's policies don't seem to be as active as Madrid's, but if you take the time to get to know the locals, you quickly learn that they take pride in (and highly respect) the verdant abundance of their climate's flora. Every porch is smothered in plants, many of which have culinary or medicinal uses. The city's population (and the pressures that come with it) skyrocket during the summer months' tourist season, and I gathered that at that time the seafront is a sprawling tapestry of neon lights and competing DJs that crawls with party-goers and go-go dancers. I'm sure the city welcomes the extra income but is less excited about the extra waste.

Antonio, Sarah, yo y Álvaro
        Being here at the tail end of the summer craziness gave us a revealing view of the local cultural undercurrents pulsing through the place. That's not to say rampant clubbing and beach-bar-hopping is just a part of tourist culture--- that couldn't be farther from the truth. Álvaro's tia Sarah (she's originally from Germany but grew up in Benidorm) and her boyfriend Antonio were more than happy to give us a splendid taste of the beachfront marcha. Our visit transcended this side of the area, however. 



        Natural beauty is everywhere here, and people really take advantage of its fruits. We spent one afternoon harpoon-fishing and snorkeling the shallow reefs (and later hungrily gobbling the calamari and fish we caught!); we bared the cold, alpine rapids at the Les Fonts waterfall hike and gorge just outside of beautiful, tiny Polop; and we downed the creamy nut-based drink, horchata, that's a staple of the Alicante region and chased it with a fresh spring that has hydrated Polop residents for many years.
Les Fonts

"Water of the town, of this town, continues to be drank for twenty years, and has a bitter sweetness, but is of true chemistry that is the truest lyric yet." - my (poor) translation of the quote by the Polop spring

The streets of Polop