Karlissa got into two different conferences in Spain this July. Melissa couldn’t go, though, because of family issues, so I undertook the adventure alone. The first conference was in Zaragoza. The second was in Valencia. There were six days in between, so my plan was to do two days in Barcelona, two in Tarragona, and two in Peniscola.
Today’s blog is about Zaragoza:
Getting there took a long time.
This is a very tired me:
On the train from Madrid to Zaragoza, I noticed how much the landscape was like Northern California. The heat was the same, though Spain had more humidity.
I checked into the lovely Hotel Sauce, located just a few minutes from my conference and, as would become important later, next door to a pharmacy.
I presented the morning after arriving. When I woke up, my stomach was upset. I didn’t think anything about it, really, since my stomach is almost always upset. I’ve been having a lot of loose stools lately. So I took some immodium and headed to the conference.
Where I had diarrhea right before and right after my presentation, while the next presenter was getting her computer ready. Did I still pretend I was feeling well and do a good job with my talk? Yes.
I fled to the hotel afterwards to rest, thinking I would get better.
Instead, it got worse and worse. I was basically trapped in my hotel room. I didn’t make it to the bathroom twice. I did stagger out at one point for more diarrhea medicine and electrolytes, but decided after four days that maybe it was time for the ER.
Since I was traveling for work, I had travel insurance. They told me which ER to head to, and off I went, hoping for an IV. The intake nurse and I had to use our phones to communicate about the billing (high school Spanish just didn’t prepare me for that).
The doctor confirmed that a) I was severely dehydrated and b) I had a virus.
No IV, though. Instead, I just got a prescription for more electrolytes and probiotics.
I was supposed to head to Barcelona at this point, but didn’t think that would be a good idea.
The Barcelona hotel tried to be bitchy about me deciding not to come (they wanted to still charge me), but when I sent them pics of my ER visit record, they agreed that I shouldn’t get on a train and show up.
So I healed more. I graded my students’ work, held sickly office hours over Zoom, read a lot of books, and caught up on Stranger Things and Disenchantment.
My Zaragoza hotel was wonderful: they brought me more toilet paper, offered all kinds of help, and were happy when get-well roses arrived from my boyfriend.*
They also had an amazing breakfast–perfect Spanish tortilla and pan con tomate.
When I was finally feeling a bit better, I went to the nearby Ebro river, on a windy day. My family home in Florida is near Ebro.
Before I left, Piero, the author of the Secret Breakfast Newsletter, got me some personalized recommendations for dining in Zaragoza. Due to my stomach problems, I didn’t get to try everything, but I did get some good lamb and had meatballs at a Michelin restaurant.
(One thing to know about Spain: they have excellent and affordable wine. At most restaurants, a glass was between 2.5 and 3 Euros. (Beer is 2.) Even at the fancy place, where I paid 18 Euros for four meatballs, my wine was only 3.5.)
I was also finally able to explore Zaragoza’s Roman ruins. Discovered only a few decades ago, there are the Roman Forum, the Roman baths, and an amphitheater. (The video at the Forum is narrated by the Ebro river.)
Zaragoza became a Roman outpost a long time ago and named Cesaraugusta. It was such an important city that it was exempt from the usual colonial taxes.
*That, former students who read this blog, is called “burying the lede.” That’s right, I’ve found the Gomez to my Morticia.
