Anyway, my story for today begins last night, after I posted. My roommates across the hall... they follow the typical pattern of "go to be late, wake up later" which I do not like. Because I have a room to myself, though, this usually doesn't bother me and I can go to bed at 10:30 if I really wanted to.
But last night. Last night. They were very loud. When they get tired, they laugh hysterically for hours on end. They were also doing... something... also very loud, and they were so irritating that Señora, from her room waaay down the hall, came out, stormed up to them, and started shouting in rapid Spanish about how she was trying to sleep and that they should be quiet.
This was at 12:30 or something.
This morning, I woke up and got ready for my day. I hate eating breakfast with them because one of them chews their food with their mouth open and the sound of crunching cereal literally makes me want to scream (misophonia, guys. Look it up) so I ate a little earlier. They went to some café for breakfast, and I didn't care to join (I had a book I wanted to read and I was in the middle of munching my cereal when they left).
While I was eating, Señora stormed in and started yelling at me about how my roommates were banging around on the walls at 3:00 in the morning while she was trying to talk to her mother, and that she wanted me to talk to Maria about it. Be proud that I understood all of this, by the way.
Not wanting at all to get involved, I just packed my stuff for our trip to the theme park and walked to the meeting place. There, I met with my roommates and explained the difficult position I'd been put into, and they agreed I should have nothing more to do with their problems. I'd just figured stuff out, I didn't need any more issues!
When Maria came to the meeting place, they started complaining, moaning and groaning about how miserable they are, how scared they were last night, ect., basically making a big deal out of something relatively minor. During this, we walked and waited for the bus that'd take us to the theme park, and Maria called someone, had a lengthy chat, and on the bus they discussed their options.
Eventually, they decided that moving houses at this point was stupid, and that the biggest brat out of all of them, who was staying in Sevilla an extra day, would move to a new place for the extra day so she wouldn't be alone with our current host mom. Anyway, with this past us, we got to the park (called Isla Mágica, if you care to look it up) and went in.
Here's a map!
So we started by making a beeline for the drop tower, which I bowed away from. I hate drop towers, and the only one I'll ride is The Tower of Terror in Disneyworld because it has the best theme to it, and I just love imagining myself in the destroyed hotel.
After that, we went to this thing
Which the guys hated for a number of painful reasons relating to the seat (ridden like a bike). I had been on one once before, and knew to lean back when they try to squish you into the restraints so you have some wiggle room, and I suggested the same to the guys, but they didn't listen. The entire ride was spent with them moaning about their agony.
Once recovered, we walked to the log plume called "Anaconda", since the park has a Caribbean island/aztec/amazonian theme to it. I deigned to sit in the back since I didn't want to spend the rest of the day soaked, and we got a pretty decent picture. The log plume didn't have seatbelts! What kind of ride doesn't have seatbelts? If I had wanted to, I could have stood up, hopped out, and gotten all kinds of hurt.
And then we rode one of those pirate ship rides that go back and forth in a relaxing and somewhat nauseating way. Maria, who hates amusement park rides, chickened out and wouldn't ride it with us.
We walked for a bit before coming to another grouping of rides, one of which was an adorable kiddie-frog-ride, a bucking bull ride, and a kiddie coaster. The Texan lads, familiar with bucking bull rides, eagerly payed their two euros and took turns getting flung off the bull. Not wanting to see them get concussions or humiliate themselves, I and the rest of the girls went to the kiddie coaster. We convinced Maria to ride it with us. It was adorable.
By the way, none of these pictures are pictures I took. I didn't want my phone to get water damage or lost or stolen, so it remained in the bottom of my backpack for the whole adventure.
Apparently, back to the bull ride, one of the buff Texans "felt sorry for the bull, so I leaned over and stepped off." Haha. yeah, right. Someone took a video... he hardly "stepped off." Unfortunately, I don't have it, nor do I want to ruin his reputation by posting it here. :P
We then caught sight of the real roller coaster, so we briskly walked to it. It was called "El Jaguar," and had no jaguar theme to speak of, and was old and clunky, but it was fun in its own pain-inducing way. Unfortunately, when you're used to record-breaking roller coasters, ones like these are a little... weak?
It was one of those hang-down coasters where you have to really work not to have your head bang between the shoulder restraints, so we all developed headaches after it. It was one of the people's first times on a "real" roller coaster, and I wish we'd managed to convince her to sit in the very back with me and one of the guys, but she wouldn't. Sigh. I love telling people the back is the least scary part of the ride...
Maria insisted that we ride a log plume-esque ride that she was scared of but was willing to try it out, so we waited in line, listening to the world's catchiest jungle-themed music, and boarded the boat.
It was ride hill up, ride slide down, splash, done. Maria was praying in Spanish for the whole time, and was shocked when we were a little underwhelmed.
Some of the group decided to go home at this point, but my roommates and I took Maria to a 4-D movie theater to see a movie about a dude on a dinosaur island. It was cute, and well made. Translated from English, of course, but still cute.
We then took a bus (by ourselves!) back to our home, where we solemnly ate the meat lasagna prepared for us. At about 3:30, we hurried as quickly as possible out the door and to school. We talked about different customs in restaurants, Sevillian holidays, and other things. I got a cortado from my buddy at the bar down the street, but I was rushed for time and didn't get a chance to ask what kinds of bagged coffee he recommended. It was funny, I walked in and he started making my coffee. I'm gonna miss him.
And we came home. I have to prepare for my oral presentation, so I wrote this before dinner. I'm a little nervous, since our relationship with Señora has dropped drastically after my roommates made their complaints.
See you tomorrow... two days left in Sevilla... I'm gonna cry...
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