About 45 minutes down the road southwest from Jianchuan, along the busy Lijiang-Dali road is a town where most travelers fail to stop. No one pays too much attention to Shaxi these days. Its heyday is long gone.

Once it stood on the busy Tea Horse Road—a less famous trading route than the Silk Road, it still played an essential role sharing not only goods, but philosophies and ideas between Tibet and Yunnan Province. The Tibetans sent their strong horses down into China, and China sent bricks of Pu ‘er tea up into the high elevations of the Tibetan Plateau. There, the Tibetans enjoyed the black tea though the long, cold winters and the Chinese, in the lowlands, put the much needed horses to use.

Today all is quiet on Shaxi’s main square, or cobbled Sifang. A few infrequently visited cafés line the fringes. Guesthouses are tucked away into historic homes, featuring beautiful courtyards. The tourists and travelers are noticeable, but few and far between. The historic center, filled with mud-brick houses and cobbled lanes seem like a ghost town.

It’s best to visit on a Friday, when seemingly the entire surrounding village population is in Shaxi buying and selling goods and produce. You’ll see Yi and Bai people in traditional dress, live animals for sale, and may even catch a brief glace at some sidewalk dentistry.

As far as sights, you’ll want to check out the Xingjiao Temple, founded in 1415, located in the main square. From there, you’ll see the theater located directly across the square. Down on the east side of town, an old stone bridge arches gracefully over the river and farms stretch to the mountains. It’s a quiet town, save for Fridays, and a walk through the centuries old streets will give you the essence of Shaxi.

There is plenty of accommodation in the old town, but I stayed at Horse Pen 46, which is a hostel affiliated with Hostelling International, and located right on the main square. Like many of the other accommodation options, Horse Pen 46 is located inside an authentic Bai minority courtyard. The hostel has maintained the traditional look and feel of the local architecture and it’s a great experience staying there.

Stephen Bugno spent three months traveling through China in 2012. He edits the GoMad Nomad Travel Mag and blogs at BohemianTraveler.com

By Stephen Bugno

The Good

The sights—Where else can you see the Great Wall of China, panda bears close up in their hometown, or a gorge the likes of Tiger Leaping Gorge? Nowhere. That’s why you come to China, for these heavy hitters. I won’t deny that I’ve seen some cool sights here. Climbing Emei Shan sacred mountain and living temporarily in Dali Old City have been some other personal highlights.

China is still a challenge. Yes, that’s a good thing. It can be frustrating at times, but it’s reassuring to be reminded that you can’t just travel everywhere in this world and people will know English. There is a sense of accomplishment in China doing what in other places is just a simple task—booking a train ticket, checking into a hotel, ordering a meal. It will take a phase book, body language, and two willing partners to communicate if you don’t know Mandarin.

You are special—if you’re a westerner, one of European decent, you are special. Bonus points if you are tall and blond, although then you may get borderline unwanted attention. You will get practiced on (English), you will get photographed, you will get stared at, long and hard. You might expect all these factors should lead to unique cultural experiences, and in theory you’d be right. But many folks are just too shy to approach you, nor do they possess enough English skills.

Inexpensive—this mostly applies to the south and southwest. We’re talking about dorm rooms for the equivalent of $5 US, doubles for $12, a bowl of noodles for $1, a nice meal for $3, inexpensive trains and buses, 50 cent beers. I wrote a post on the expenses for travelers in Yunnan Province. Get here before prices go up (and they will).

The Bad

China can be an annoying place to travel most of the time. You need to adapt and be really good at ignoring things. The overwhelming rule of the road is “conduct yourself whatever way you want and be able to ignore everything around you”. The biggest annoyances are as follows:

Smoking—this is difficult to get used to for those of us who have been living in smoke-free environments for 10+ years. Worst of all, people even smoke in confined areas. What is so mystifying is that there is no concept of smoking is bad, even if you are next to a child in a confined space.

Loud talking—Loud talking I can ignore. But I can still get annoyed by it. Nowhere in the world have I heard people shout for an entire conversation on a cell phone than in China. It doesn’t matter if they are young or old, from the village or city, speak mandarin or an ethnic minority language, people in these parts blast their voice through the phone as if they are not sure if the other end of the line can hear them. It also doesn’t seem to matter if you are in a bus, a restaurant, or a museum—this phone conversation is all that matters and you must deal with it.

Beeping—China is not the worst country with beeping horns. That award may go India. But it is bad. It’s not necessarily the frequency of beeping, but one ear-piercing, brain-penetrating, intense type of bus horn. The screech from this type of horn gives one an immediate headache and if close enough, scares the hell out of you.

The ugly

Toilets—especially those in Yunnan Province have been some of the most revolting I’ve ever seen. But it’s not only the sight of these public toilets; it’s the nauseating smell that goes along with them. I won’t go into too much detail, but a lot of people have missed the targeted area with their warheads and even though there is usually a person on duty to collect a small fee from each user, the toilets are not being adequately cleaned.

I’m not exaggerating or speaking of isolated cases—nearly every public bathroom in Yunnan I visited was a roll-your-pantleg, hold-your-nose experience. It was almost like you didn’t know whether to laugh out loud at the extreme disgustingness of the situation or be angry that people could tolerate such severe unsanitary conditions.

Pollution—We’ve read about this in the papers and heard the conditions from the Olympics and I’m here to tell you it really is that bad. The air in Chinese cities is deplorably, disgustingly, filthy. It messes your eyes, it hurts your throat, it affects your lungs. The urban areas are horrendous and much of the time, the countryside is bad too—with mega-clouds of smog drifting over from industrial areas.

Stephen Bugno traveled around south and southwestern China for three months in 2012. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. He blogs at BohemianTraveler.com and edits the GoMad Nomad Travel Mag.

By Stephen Bugno

Some specialties of Guangxi Province

China is a foodie’s utopia—the regional diversity of offerings is outstanding. Although it can’t compete with the powerhouse food regions like Sichuan, Beijing, or Guangdong, Guangxi Province still had some interesting food culture to investigate.

Guangxi Province is located in southern China, west of Hong Kong and Macau. It’s most famous for the limestone mountains around Guilin and Yangshuo. After a long day of cycling around Yangshuo or rafting down the Li River, we explored the culinary scene of Guangxi.

Guilin rice noodles are a favorite for breakfast. In addition to the broth and meat, different condiments like soy beans, fermented green beans, chopped spring onions, cabbage, radish, and chili are piled on top.

Snails are another specialty. We ate them stuffed with a pork, ginger and other-herbs blend.

Beer fish and beer duck are two specialties of Yangshuo, both prepared with local ingredients. Watch a video of a local chef preparing beer fish.

Due to the favorable climate, fruits are also popular in Guangxi: mandarin oranges, kumquats, persimmons, and the Shatin grapefruit. We also saw Gingko seeds for sale.

It’s also not unusual to see live animals outside of restaurants in Guangxi Province: chickens, pheasants fish, turtles, clams, and many others.

Now watch the video:

The shops are all closed up. There’s hardly any foot traffic or cars on the streets. Red lanterns hung around the city add to the atmosphere. But the most noticeable way to tell it’s the Eve of Chinese New Year is by the excessive and near constant explosions of firecrackers.

Children light them off. So do adults. But it’s the teenagers that are most aggressive. One will ride on the back of a scooter facing backwards lighting a series of firecrackers and dropping them while his or her friend drives away. I saw others having mini-wars; throwing clusters at their friends. Others just set them off near random people and scurry off before being seen.

Some firecrackers are bigger and louder than others. After a long string of big ones, at least one car alarm will get set off. The climax came at midnight, when it seemed like each of the city’s citizens was setting fireworks off at the same time.

I am witnessing all this in the small city of Jianshui, in Yunnan Province, about 200 km south of Kunming. Jianshui is known for its traditional architecture: its huge red gateway arch Chaoyang Lou, its venerable Confucian academy, the traditional Zhu Family Gardens, and the captivating 17-arch Twin Dragon Bridge.

Tomorrow, the 23^rd of January will be New Year’s Day and people will leave their homes to promenade through the old cobbled streets during the afternoon. The shops will all be open; the Taoist temple will be busy, and the street vendors will be cooking up their famous Jianshui barbecue.

The Chinese call this Lunar New Year’s celebration Spring Festival. The Lunar Calendar is observed in much of Asia. Last year I celebrated Lunar New Year in South Korea, which was an incredible cultural experience for me, spending the entire day with a Korean couchsurfer and his family. This year was not as special for me—I’ve just been watching people celebrate in the streets. I wasn’t able to see how any Chinese families celebrated in their homes. Nevertheless, it was fun to see everyone excited and in a festive spirit.

See the photos below of Jianshui preparing for Spring Festival, or Chinese New Year:

Red lanterns for sale in Jianshui, China

Red lanterns hang on the city gate in Jianshui, China

Decorations hung at the traditional Zhu Family Gardens in Jianshui, China

New Year’s decorations at the Confucian Temple in Jianshui, China

Red lanterns hung at the Confucian Temple in Jianshui, China.

Fireworks for sale in Jianshui, China.

Setting up fireworks at a private residence.

After the firecrackers

Exploded fireworks in front of the Linan Inn in Jianshui, China

Shops closed up on New Year’s Eve. Smoke after the firecrackers.

Out with last year’s red lanterns.

By Stephen Bugno

San Blas used to be important. It was a crucial port when trade between Spain and the Philippines was in its heyday. Then Acapulco took over and San Blas became a backwater. But that’s why it’s a fantastic, little, chilled-out beach town today.

The empty stretch of beach at Playa El Borrego, San Blas, Mexico.

Set 90 minutes down a narrow two-lane road bounded by dense vegetation from the nearest city, Tepic, it feels very remote. I planned my visit for Mexico’s bicentennial celebration back in September 2010. I wanted to see the party in a small town and witness the locals and few tourists join in for the festivities. It all happened in the town’s main square: music, dancing, speeches, parades.

I could have stayed in Mexico City or Guadalajara, but I wanted to be in a small town to celebrate Mexico’s 200^th birthday.

Why I chose San Blas

The famous Pan de Platano, banana bead of San Blas, Mexico

I was only in Mexico for a few weeks and only had time to visit one beach. I chose San Blas. It’s description mirrored that of a slow and very laid-back lifestyle.

In fact, my guidebook, The Rough Guide to Mexico summed it up perfectly by saying “for such a small town, San Blas manages to absorb its many visitors without feeling overrun, submissive or resentful”.

I visited in the off-season so it was even more void of tourists (probably only a dozen foreigners in all), but still there was plenty of local life. There are simple little cafes and street carts around town and a low-key but lively and fun bar scene. Internet cafes are plentiful and guesthouses are scattered around town.

The beaches are nice. For the first 200 m or so there are restaurants and a few cabanas along Playa El Borrego, but after that it’s just palm-fringed beach the rest of the way down. It eventually stops after a few km because this beach is like peninsula with a lagoon behind it. On the other side, where the lagoon opens into the ocean, are some other beaches at Los Islitas.

San Blas is also a relatively safe place to hang out. People linger outside at night. Budget travelers camp on the beach at Stoner’s Surf camp, where you can get surfing lessons as well. Safety is a concern to most people traveling to Mexico, so that’s why I tackled that issue in a recent post. Mostly it’s the US media that is blowing the drug wars out of proportion. Mexico is safe for tourists in most areas of the country.

I would consider San Blas as a destination for one of your upcoming Mexico holidays, specifically if you like a laid-back and independent beach scene. No Club Meds or Wyndhams here. And very few hawkers giving you any unnecessary hassles. Just a mellow surf scene and some fellow low-impact independent travelers.

Stoner's Surf Camp in San Blas, Mexico

The locals are really friendly and super easy going. On several occasions I walked past waiting taxi drivers are they didn’t even call out to me. A walk down by the beach you’re likely to witness fishermen doing their thing. Towards the evening I saw about 12 guys hauling in a gigantic fishing net by hand.

Before arriving to San Blas, I heard lots of nasty stories about the biting sand flies that seem to attack humans at certain times of year. This alone is said to be the reason that mass tourism did not develop in San Blas. The no see-ums weren’t around when I visited, but the mosquitoes were nearly unbearable every evening at dusk.

Around San Blas

One afternoon I was feeling energetic and borrowed a bicycle from my guesthouse and together, with a fellow traveler whom I just met, peddled over to Bahia de Matanchen. Most of the six kilometer road led through marshes where we saw plenty of bird life. Eventually when we reached Los Islitas near Mantanchen village beach we leaned our bikes against a palm tree and pulled up a chair at a local beach-side restaurant. I ordered a whole fish grilled with garlic and a huge coconut to drink. After dinner we took a dip in the bathtub-warm water and explored the rest of Los Islitas by bike.

Getting there and costs

San Blas is located on the Pacific Ocean in the Mexican province of Nayarit. It’s a 90 minute, $42 MXN ($3.50 US) bus ride from the city of Tepic and another 2-3 hours and $190 MXN ($16 US) back to Guadalajara.

I got a single room with bath in the off-season for 150 pesos ($12.75 US)per night, which was one of the cheapest options in town.

By Stephen Bugno

I am definitely not a mall person. You might even be able to classify me as a mall hater. Here are five reasons I didn’t fight malls when I visited Singapore.

5) A National Obsession

To understand Singapore without eating at or entering a mall is like trying to understand Ireland without entering a pub. Singaporeans are obsessed with shopping. The temples they’ve built to worship this infatuation with consumerism, are malls. They are big, they are beautiful, and they are here to stay. My conclusion: understanding malls equals understanding Singaporean society.

4) Nice to Look at

These are some of the nicest, most well-designed buildings I’ve seen. I spent much of my time in Singapore just walking through the malls admiring the interior design, the grand open spaces, the escalators. Not to mention all the beautiful people. Singaporeans look good! In fact, they are the best dressed people I have ever seen. Don’t get me wrong, Londoners and New Yorkers are dressed well, but in those cities there’s at least one person poorly dressed for each one that is well dressed. In Singapore, it’s just beautiful person after beautiful person. Even if they’re not good looking, they still look good.

3) I didn’t ask to visit this mall

How did I end up in a mall? Get used to it, malls are everywhere in Singapore. And they’re almost impossible to avoid. If you exit the MRT (mass rapid transit), you may end up inside a mall. It’s nearly impossible to escape. I tried once for 20 minutes to get to street level and failed. Luckily there are good information desks helping you plot your way out. So you may not have a choice about visiting malls while in the city. Accept the mall. Be one with commercialism. Smile, you love shopping.

2) It’s freeeezing in here

A mall in Singapore.

Singapore is hot. Walking around the city, you’ll think it’s the hottest, most humid place you’ve ever been. Enter shopping malls. They are cold, very cold. And to most people this feels good. Feeling good goes hand in hand with spending a lot of money. There you have the secret to happiness in Singapore. Unfortunately, to the weak (myself included), this shuffling into the ice cold mall and out into the hot street can cause headaches. Why not stay inside the mall all day?

1) 1 +1 = 3

Shopping malls combine shopping with Singaporean’s second obsession: eating. This city is both eater’s and shopper’s paradise. Malls have food courts. These are not the disgusting and dirty food courts that you are used to back home. This is good food. And lots of it. A diverse range of independent stalls offer an array of sophisticated food choices at reasonable prices. Char kway teow (fried broad noodles) with cockles, lemon pepper beef rice, fish ball and wan tan soup, chicken rice, turnip and mushroom dumplings, kaya (coconut jam) toast and coffee,  just to name a few that I tried. The mall food court is the place to get good food at good prices. If you think Singaporeans have fashion sense, they have even better food sense.

There you have it. Malls rule Singapore. The next time you’re here, just try to avoid malls. I dare you.

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By Stephen Bugno

So it’s 1440 and you are King Sejong of the Joseon Dynasty. You are a well-respected ruler and a champion for the common person. But you have a little problem. Your population is undereducated and you want to communicate with them.

A statue of King Sejong in Seoul's Gwanghwamun Square.

“My people cannot write characters even though they have hands, and can’t read characters even though they have eyes. Joseon needs new characters that are suitable for the people.”

Your kingdom now uses complicated Chinese characters (hanja), which are only taught to members of the upper class.  However, there’s one little problem. Your nobility opposes change. They want a monopoly on communication. If the underclasses get educated, the aristocracy might feel threatened.

So what do you do? You gather together in secret a committee of linguistic scholars to look into the matter. They consider other Asian scripts and eventually decide to create a brand new language from scratch. Yes, they are going to invent a new written language.

Written Korean: what they came up with

Hangeul, as the Korean script is known, was set forth in a document called Hunmin Jeongeum by King Sejong in 1443, the 25^th year of his reign. It was then tested and improved upon for another three years. Originally, 28 letters were created, of which only 24 are used today.

An example of Hangeul

Why it’s special

Hangeul consists of consonants and vowels. It is a phonetic system, but is based on the formation of syllabic units. The syllable consists of a first sound, a middle sound, and a last consonant.

What makes it unique is the fact that basic consonants were created in replication of the human pronunciation organs, imitating the shapes of the organ of articulation at the moment they are pronounced. Other letters were developed on the basis of these basic characters, taking into account the sounds’ similarities and stress levels and adding strokes to the basic characters.

A chart explaining hangeul in the King Sejong Museum in Seoul.

The whole system was developed using the basic consonants and the three vowels and adding stokes to them, thereby making the letters simple to learn. In modern times, hangeul has been easily combined with digital technologies which make it uncomplicated to type.

Background of the Korean language

Korean belongs to the Ural-Altaic language group, which stretches narrowly across Mongolia and central Asia all the way to Turkey. It is believed that the ancestors of modern Koreans brought the language from their native home in central Asia into the Korea peninsula. Korean is most similar to Japanese in grammar and sentence structure. Today Korean is spoken by about 70 million people.

An explanation from the King Sejong Museum in Seoul

It is extremely hard for most foreigners to master spoken Korean. Written Korean on the other hand, thanks to the foresight of King Sejong, is relatively easy and can be learned with a few hours of dedicated study.

If you go

To learn more about hangeul and the noble reign of King Sejong, visit The Story of King Sejong, an exhibition hall and museum underneath the large statue of King Sejong in Gwanghwamun Square in downtown Seoul.

Open Tuesday – Sunday 10:30am to 10:30pm. Use Gwanghwamun Subway Station. Free admission.

By Stephen Bugno

Mokpo is a city in the far southwest of the Korean peninsula that most people told me to avoid. They looked puzzled when I told them I was stopping there. There’s nothing to see in Mokpo. It’s only a place to transit. Not worth staying there for any amount of time. That only encouraged me to go.

A fishmonger slices hoe at the market in Mokpo, South Korea.

I’ll make decision for myself weather a place is worth stopping for or not. And because I wasn’t traveling through Korea to see anything in particular, I figured I had nothing to lose.

What I found

Mokpo is a city defined by the sea. It is a major port. Seafood abounds. The climate is kept mild by its coastal location. And while I didn’t find any compelling reason to visit Mokpo, I also didn’t find any reason to avoid it either. That said, I did enjoy my time there. However, if you’re really into eating seafood, I would definitely recommend stopping in Mokpo. I mean, how many other places can you get fermented stingray?

There is also a dedicated group of foreign English teachers, hired by the province and scattered at schools around the region. They are mostly Canadians and Americans, but I met an Irish as well. Their comradery was reminiscent of that which I experienced in the Peace Corps; the group is close, supportive, and knowledgeable about their host country. Except they seem to moan and groan significantly less than my group of volunteers did in Uzbekistan.

Overall they like their life in Jeollanam-do and they showed their city off to me like proud locals. We toured the city by foot; my favorite way to explore cities. Our path led past some architectural reminders of the Japanese colonial period, by an outdoor sculpture garden, and to the top of Yudal-san: the mountain that rises above Mokpo Harbor.

Mokpo’s Fish Market

Welcome to Marine Product Town (Mokpo, South Korea)

The highlight of the walk around Mokpo, was a visit to the fish market, which lines the road along the harbor north of the ferry terminal. Unfortunately, it was a slow day, following the Lunar New Year holiday, but there were still plenty sea products out on display which I was excited to photograph.

Below are additional images from the fish market.

More photos from the rest of the walk through Mokpo can be viewed here.

The fish market in Mokpo, South Korea

Fishing nets in Mokpo, South Korea

Mini shrimp at the Mokpo Fish market.

At the outdoor fish market in Mokpo.

Rays

A woman at the fish market in Mokpo, South Korea prepares hoe, sliced raw fish.

Fish at the Mokpo fish market.

Circle the coastline of Korea’s Jeju island long enough and eventually you are likely to come across women decked out in diving gear popping up to the surface now and again. These are the haenyeo—the world-famous women divers of Jeju, keeping alive a centuries-old tradition while maintaining the economic viability of their island home.

Their Work

The famous Haenyeo women divers of Jeju Island, South Korea

They perform the underwater harvest of seaweed, abalone, and shells that is called muljil, which literally means either “water working” or “water playing”. Their work is often divided into three categories: ganmuljil, baenmuljil, and nanbar, according to the distance of the worksite from the shore, as well as the use of a boat.

History of the Haenyeo

Haenyeo-- The Woman Divers of Jeju Island, South Korea

The haenyeo originated on Jeju, a volcanic island about 60 miles off the southern coast of the Korean peninsula. Over the years there have been migrations of haenyeo to various parts of nearby China, Japan, Russia, and mainland Korea. These are known as chulga haenyeo, literally “women divers who left home”.

No one knows exactly when the haenyeo began their underwater gathering work, but it is agreed that it started before the Three Kingdoms Period (2^nd Cen. AD). Records state that pearls were sent by the islanders to the court in Goguryeo. However, before 1629 the diving was performed by men. Only after this point did the women begin the custom.

The Diving

The haenyeo I saw in the water nearby to the coast.

Najam is the term used to describe unassisted dive fishing to garner shellfish and other marine products from 10 to 20 meters below the surface of the water without using an oxygen tank. On Jeju Island it has been one of the most profitable and productive means for women to contribute to both the local economy and that of each household.

Most haenyeo hold their breath for about one minute, although some are able to remain underwater for up to two minutes. As they come to the surface to breathe, they hold onto a buoy called a taewak, in order to take a brief rest before the next dive.

As she surfaces, the haenyeo lets out a whistle-like shriek exhaling carbon dioxide and inhaling the oxygen necessary for the next submersion.

Haenyeo Happy Hour

After a hard day’s work the haenyeo traditionally meet at the bulteok. This is protected spot close to shore where they sit around a fire to warm themselves, dry out their wet diving clothes, exchange information, and take care of the seafood they collected.

Future haenyeo

What I saw

I visited the Jeju Haenyeo Museum with a group of my students from English camp at the Jeju International English Village.  A few days later, I was in the nearby village of Buckchon-ri where I saw some haenyeo in the small municipal port with their catch. I approach one of them, said hello, and asked if I could take a photo.

“No, no, no.” She responded adamantly, making an x-sign with her hands and turning her back to me.

If you go

The students arrive at the Haenyeo Museum in Jeju

The Jeju Haenyeo Museum is located next to the Anti-Japanese Movement Memorial Park about an hour east of Jeju City. Take the bus that goes towards Saeha or Seongsan (Route No. 12) and get off  at the Hadoo-ri, Gujwa-eup stop. The museum is open daily from 09:00-18:00, except for the first Monday of the month. Admission is 1,100 Won (about $1 US).

Today Jeju Island is known as Samdado or the “Island of Three Abundances” due to its plentiful supply of rocks, strong winds, and hardy women.

***

Read more about why I’m in South Korea…

Stephen Bugno has been volunteering, working and traveling around the world for the past decade. This is his second visit to South Korea’s Jeju Island. He freelances for various publications, edits the GoMad Nomad Travel Mag and blogs about his travels at BohemianTraveler.com

By Stephen Bugno

What to Eat When You’re Visiting Spain and Where to Find It

Food is definitely one of the highlights of Spain and the regional diversity only makes criss-crossing the country a real culinary pleasure. There are certain specialties that you shouldn’t miss while visiting. From the dry, distinctively Spanish region of Andalucía to green hills and rugged coastline of Galicia, here are my top ten favorite foods from Spain:

Jamon Serrano

Jamon is dry cured ham, thinly sliced from the bone. The pure bread Iberian pig, cerdo iberico, spends a lifetime freely roaming the countryside eating fallen acorns to produce the first-rate, highly sought after variety which can be extremely expensive. Where: Extremadura, in southwestern Spain. The town of Monesterio has a Dia del Jamon (Jamon Day) every year during the first week of September.

Paella

The rice-based dish synonymous with Spanish cuisine often includes some combination of mussels, shrimp, chicken, rabbit, green beans, butter beans, snails, artichokes, and a subtle saffron taste. Although genuine paella Velenciana doesn’t mix meat and fish. Try it in the province of Valencia, specifically in the towns of Perellonet or El Palmar.

Tortilla Español

The Spanish omelet is made from simple ingredients: potatoes, onions, and eggs, prepared on the stovetop. The perfect light meal or snack anytime of day. Where to eat it: any bar in Spain.

Pulpo a la Gallega

Galician Octopus is traditionally cooked in a big copper vat and served on a wooden plate sprinkled with salt and drizzled with olive oil. Find pulpo anywhere in the seafood-rich region of Galicia, in northwest Spain. Wash it down with the young, fresh, cloudy white wine: Ribeiro, a local favorite.

Chorizo

Chorizo is a flavorful and sometimes spicy pork sausage that Spain takes seriously. It gets its deep red color from dried smoked red peppers. Chorizo is eaten everywhere across Spain, but if you get a chance, try it in Cantimpalos, in the province of Segovia, where it is especially good and cured with paprika.

Gazpacho

Served chilled, gazpacho is a refreshing soup from the southern region of Andalucía made with tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, oil, vinegar, garlic, and salt. Sample it throughout the region because recipes differ within Andalucía.

Pimentos de Padron

Small, shallow-fried green peppers served whole and sprinkled with sea salt.  Where to eat them: ideally in Padron, but anywhere in Galicia in the summer is a fine place to try them. If you’ve just finished walking the Camino de Santiago, enjoy pimentos de Padron in Santiago de Compostela. ¡Ten Quidado—one in ten is supposedly hot!

Churros

Dunk these ribbed fried dough rings in coffee for a Spanish breakfast. Or many consider them best eaten with thick, rich chocolate in the morning after a long night of drinking and dancing at the clubs. Where: anywhere in Spain, preferably at a churraria.

Empanada

Although many varieties of empanada can be found throughout South and Central America, this stuffed pastry is originally from Galicia. The Galician variety is usually prepared with cod, chicken, or some variety of shellfish, and baked into a pie with peppers and onions. Find empanada anywhere in Galicia.

Sopa de Ajo

Originally a poor person’s soup, you can now find sopa de ajo in finer restaurants. Made from frying bread in lots of garlic and sprinkled with paprika, the stock is added and complemented with beaten eggs. Where to try it: the region of Castilla.

Stephen Bugno attended both Pueblo Ingles and Vaughn Town in the summer of 2008 and remained in Spain for another nine months teaching English. For more than a decade he has worked, volunteered, and traveled his way around the world. He blogs at BohemianTraveler.com