GRANADA, Spain—First of all, let me just say that packing for an epic four month journey is much harder than it seems. The week before my departure to Madrid, my gigantic black suitcase (which fits both me and my dog comfortably, I discovered) sat in the middle of my room judging me. I tried to find the motivation to pack as I attempted to stare it down with equal stealth. When packing for a trip abroad, they always tell you to stack up what you intend to bring and then remove half. But they, whoever those evil souls are, never took into account the fact that I would have to pack for 90 AND 30 degree weather. And keep my bag under 51 pounds. And the fact that I like shoes. A lot. As the stacks of clothes grew, I sadly removed half of them, as told, and even left room in my suitcase for the eight pairs of Spanish leather shoes I intend to buy. Suitcase: 0. Tamar 1.

Now, after being in Spain for over a week, I feel grossly under packed. It doesn’t help that it regularly tops 90 degrees and that Spaniards for some reason don’t believe in air conditioning. Or washing machines, as is the case with the dorm we’re staying in. Alas, I’ve spent my first week in Spain shvitzing in reused clothes. Yesterday I went to a tapas bar in gym shorts and today I was stuck wearing pants and a long sleeve shirt in the midday heat. Suitcase: 30. Tamar: 1.

Aside from the smelly recycled clothing, Spain is phenomenal. When our group of 25 AU students arrived, we spent our first two nights in Madrid, where we’ll be living, and then took a four hour bus ride south to Granada, a city with its heyday in the Middle Ages and now a vibrant hippie college town. Here it seems rat tails, dreadlocks and mullets never went out of style. We’re now on day eight of our 11 day orientation, where we’re taking intensive Spanish classes, three-hour siestas and dutifully learning the subtleties of sangria (a common wine, triple sac and fruit drink).

So far, we’ve had a great time exploring Granada’s steep alleyways and cheap bars (one and a half Euros for a beer and tapa!) and the Mediterranean coast’s immaculate beaches. This weekend, a big group of us went to Nerja, a town on the Costa del Sol apparently popular with topless, overweight British tourists, where I did my best to get a tan. Naturally, I now resemble a tomato.

Or at this point, a tomato in gym shorts.

We officially move into our homestays on Thursday. Expect more on the epic suitcase battle and hopefully nothing else about red produce. Hasta luego!

Tamar Hallerman is a junior in the School of Communication. Follow her misadventures throughout Madrid and the Mediterranean region during the fall semester on The Eagle’s new blog, The Eagle Takes Flight!