Now that it's been almost two months since my last post, and over one month since I've been back on the motherland, I figured, "What could be a better time than now to finish my blog?!" Perhaps it is knowing that this is my last post that has churned some sort of inner-melancholy, provoking me to stall and procrastinate on writing my last entry. Or maybe it's that the last week in Spain, I wrote three final essays for Don Quijote and my "internship" and the idea of jumping on the ole laptop to write some more, more or less, made me nauseous. I'll go with a combination of the two.
Arriving back in Spain after running around Europe, gave me surprising feelings. As strange as the country can be, I felt like I was coming home. I realized that I had missed Cervante's hometown and the thought of leaving for good so soon really did make me sad. The reunion with the Terps was fantastic. We had a big dinner out and comparing that last dinner to our first dining venture, I realized how much of a family we had become. We argued, we laughed, we cried, we dos besoed. It was great.
Moving out was not such a great experience. I parted ways with Carolina, my mother-like figure of Alcala. Sad. I said 'goodbye' to La Yenna when she left. Sad times two. Then I said 'goodbye' to Funglah when I left. Triple sad. But then, just to mix up my emotions some more, I got to see Le Ginge and her family in Santiago with Marta and her rents! We went out to eat, and the experience was phenomenal. Watching the cultures mix was pretty awesome.
My real last days in Spain were spent in Pontevedra with my Spanish family. We went to the beach, climbed oceanside cliffs, went to an empty parking lot to hang out, (not illegal), and my Spanish dad serenaded me with a song on his guitar sung in Gallego. I really felt like their Spanish daughter, and if I wasn't coming back to see them when I'm abroad in England, I would've let all my girlie emotions show and bawled. Luckily, I didn't have to do that. :)
On the flight home from Frankfurt I sat next to a Romanian grandpa who didn't speak English. He would tuck in my blanket when I fell asleep and I would order him food. I also helped fill out his immigration form. By help I mean I drew pictures and made animal noises to figure out if he had been by livestock lately. I also let him listen to 'Numa Numa' on my iPod. He was more fascinated by the iPod, which he had never seen before, than by the fact that I knew a Romanian song. When we parted ways it was sad times four.
But then I got to reunite with the fam, friends, and all of my little pueblo, which I have come to love more dearly than ever.
The end. =)
Monday, June 15, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
EUR09
Wed., April 2 - Day 1
Bonjour Paris! But it's more like "hola Paris," because I keep forgetting to not speak Spanish. France greeted me with pink toilet paper, and I must say I felt rather welcomed. Our hotel is 4 blocks from the Eiffel Tower. Can anyone say 'ballin'?!! Someone proposed (ESPOUSE MOI) as we were coming down from the Tower. City of love? Without a doubt, my friend. Speaking of which - we escaped our 2 Spanish companions as tey seemed a little too into the idea of partying with Americans, but our German buddy, Christoph, is definitely a keeper - a.k.a. Facebook friend for life.
Thurs., April 3 - Day 2
A tad bit tired. Laurel and I made a "Day Reflections" video. We had Parisian desserts and wine on the mall of the Eiffel Tower.
Fri., April 4 - Day 3 (reflection of Day 2)
Well, here we are again in Paireeeee. Yesterday we had breakfast at Silvie's apartment. She is so kind and welcoming. It could not have been a better start to the day. We then ran over and bought our Parisian desserts and then metroed to Notre Dame. I couldn't decide if I was more in awe at how spectacular of a place it was or that I was standing in the palce where Disney made a movie. Sarah and I decided both and sang like Esmeralda outside the doors. God help the outcasts - who ironically enough - happen to be us here. I also came to the conclusion that we are on a Disney tour as all the places we go have Disney inspiration. If they actually don't, we pretend they do. The Ceine River urns right by Notre Dame and I was feeling rather tempted to check the costs of a boat ride. Next, we walked all over town to - (refer to Jenna Frey and Laurel Hughes' blogs). We sat outside an art museum eating crepes nutella - I don't think there exists a better chocolate product - we found an unmarked cathedral witha garden and giant haead and hand statue - lovers unite- and we climbed to the top of Sacre Bleu - (not the real name, but easier to remember that way) - and we were able to overlook the whole city. The Louvre was next on the list and I saw Mona Lisa's smile. On the way to Arc du Triumph I ate French fries and decided they are, in fact, the best in France. The banana I ate was the best, too. The Arc was huge and impressive and touching. At this point we had reached the Louvre's "Free" period and after exploring the wonderful world of art I asked information, "Ou e Che Papa?" Basically, that's saying, "Where's daddy's place?" but really I was talking about a restaurant. I got some rather clever remarks back before I figured out that I needed to clarify a bit more. Finally, we made it to "Daddy's Place" and atea delicious French meal. We ended the night at E.T. with Silvie.
Sat., April 4 - Day 3 (reflection of day 3)
I went with Jenna in the a.m. to E.T. and then we bought breakfast to have at Silvie's. What an incredible woman. Also, I ate "French toast," but literally. I was sad to leave Paris - mostly because of Silvie. The sophisteicated, attractive Parisians with their baguettes and crepes in berets making the city of love such a charming palce won me over. Charmed. Check. Now, let's get some waffles. Fo free.
Sun., April 5 - Day 4
Last night we had a night on the town in Brussels. Meaning I spent 11euro on that which I cannot purchase in the States. Barry serenaded us at Celtica- the bar with the world's longest happy hour. Today is Palm Sunday and we stopped in the cathedral for palms and to pray. Then webegan our search for the peeing boy fountain. We ate Belgium waffles in the grand Plaza and bought Godiva chocolate. Brussels is such a peaceful, friendly place. It even attracts kind people like Zen from New Zealand. So we saw the mini boy pissing and soon thereafter we found the pissing girl named Jenna where La Yenna reenacted the scene. Right across the cobbley road was Delirium, the world's Guinness Record holder for the most beers served. We swapped childhood - meaning mostly high school - stories at our giant barrel tables. I was most tempted to buy the barrel to use at Niagra Falls, but I resisted the temptation. Next, we found Brussels' mini Retiro park filled with lovers, which I suppose is allowed since they still speak French in Belgium. I took a little siesta and then we packed up for the train station. We said our goodbyes to Travis (the dog), the "assistant" boy at Hotel Sabina, and to the lovely land of chocolate, "nature inspired" fountain, and waffles (that aren't free, but probably only because they're not fries). I bought each of the girls a flower, because they are great and I'm lucky to have them. Now that I'm realizing my dream of backpacking/duffling through Europe I feel like I'm growing in every way. I just feel so grateful. God has blessed me, graced me, with an awesome life.
Tues., April 7 - Day 6
Amsterdam was weird. Mix Traverse City in the summer and Las Vegas and you get this city. Cnals divide the streets and there are more bikes than cars. Everyone is friendly. The city itself is gorgeous. I even like the fashion there better. Yet, legalized weed and prostitution put a whole different spin on the personality of Amsterdam. It's overflowing with young people. Other highlights include Woke to Walk and, of course, the 3 meandering people who came stumbling to our doorstep. Rugbyand field hockey players were staying at Hans Brinker with us. We arrived during their Tights and Brights party. We mostly just wandered around and yesterday we ended our day at the Flying Pig, where we were supposed to be staying. I splurged and got Diet Coke, a Sprite, and a water. Just call me a rebel. Well, I must say, I'm happy to be moving on safe and sound. Oh yes, and my bff, Voda, texted me this: Disfruta de tus vacaciones de Semana Santa. Evita distracciones y respeta las normas. Recuerda, lo importante es volver. (Translation: Enjoy your Easter/Spring Break vacation. Avoid distractions and respect the traditions/norms. Remember, what's important is returning.) Thank you, Voda, I will return to Spain. No worries.
Wed., April 8 - Day 7
Frankfurt was delightful. We had dinner outside of typical German food - I ate cheese and potato salad. A river runs through the modern city. Today we walked around, saw St. Peter's Church, and strolled across a bridge and around a Plaza. We had to part ways with La Bamba. Also, today we went to an indoor 2 story market, which was deliciously pleasant. My highlight for Germany, however, would have to be watching MTV in English in our PJs last night at the hotel. I've been wondering what Paris (Hilton) has been up to. I'm so hapy I finally know.
The train ride to Zurich is brilliant. There are villages snuggled between mountains surrounded by lush green fields and bountiful trees. I love it. I think Paris (Hilton) would, too.
Fri., April 10 - Day 9
Zurich was perfect. We met our precious little Marc the Shark at teh train station and he showed us the way to his qaint home built on the highest mountain of Zurich. We dropped our stuff at the attic apartment he had set up for us and then we hiked up a bit for a panoramic view of the whole city. We were feeling a bit hungry and Marc informed us that it was too expensive to eat out and he would be making us a typical Swiss dish - apple macaroni (or pronounced similarly). We ventured past the rows of garden huts and did what we could to help our Swiss chef make dinner. We met his roommates and neighbors - Matheiu, Dominic, Sammy, Rafael, and Lukas. Everyone was so kind and welcoming and they all spoke English to include us as much as possible. After dinner we were all ready for bed, but Marc insisted we join the guys and Matheiu's girlfriend, Nicole, for drinks. I sipped at my quarter shot/mixed drink and listened to them all speak in Swiss German. It's definitely not harsh or angry sounding and I loved reading facial expressions. Sarah and I like to make up stories to pretend to understand and at times I was kind of, but not really, close. I slept on a couch and it felt like home.
In the morning we all got ready to go and Marc, concerned and confused, asked, "Well, you don't want to eat anything?" We peeked into the kitchen and, yes, Marky Marc had the table set with a braided loaf of Swiss bread and marmelade ready to go. So we had a delightful breakfast (and bed budumdum) with our host and then hit the road for our new friend to guide us around the city.
Marc showed us his University, a.k.a. Einstein's Hogwarts, Grossmunster, Fraumunster, the most expensive shopping street, and then got us to Lake Zurich where we hopped on a boat and poor Marc had to go to class. I'd have felt worse for him, but he rides a cable car up to Hoggyhogs and even though he laughed as we acted like five-year-olds in Disney World oohing and aahing and squealing (Le Ginger) with excitement, I know his own joy at the sight of a cable car was rejuvinated.
The boat was amazing. I felt pure happiness, joy, gratefulness, contentment during our excursion. Something about water brings me a great sense of peace.
After our "strenuous" boat tour viewing lakeside homes among the Swiss Alps we decided we could use a small siesta. We wandered over to a park that mirrored the University building with all of Zurich lying in between. We siestaed for a short while until we decided that the three six-year-old boys playing football were more exciting. sarah, Le Ginger ,and I joined the game and we had so much fun. Once they beat us we moved our stuff and our snoozing Yenna to the sideline instead of behind the goal. Then Alexander, but he goes by Alex since there is another Alexander in his kindergarten class, came over and asked me to play football with him. Of course, I took on the wee one and he beat me 10-3. Not bad for my third time playing soccer. Sarah played some more, too, and even got yelled at in Swiss German. She responded, shocked, "I know!"
After all these adventures we headed back to the mountain, stopping for a quick photo on a puente. Gosh, I can't get over how much I love fuentes y puentes. And I am still in love with T-Pain and Lonely Island's latest and greatest, which I rapped for a hot second on the boat. Anyway, Sarah gave me a HUGE compliment and said, "Caitlin, I feel like you're the sister I never had." We embraced on the Swiss streets and laughed, but I am truly and genuinely touched.
On the way "home" Laurel and I shared a Magnum. How is that ice cream so delicious? I'm thinking Coca-Cola is not the only ones who experimented with various additives.
We were ready to make PB sandwiches when our Martha Stewart host, Marc, interjected to tell us we'd be eating with them, beacuase Dominic was making spaghetti.
Whoa - I almost forgot. On the way to the park we bought a giant chocolate bunny to share. Then we actually ran into Lukas and Dominic. I had a small flashback to driving with Jonatan in Soraya's car for the first time. I added seeing people I know in Zurich to my list of "cool moments in Europe." Whoohoo for having 2! Ok, 3, because I saw 4 Chinos one day in Madrid at Reina Sofia and Retiro.
We prepared for dinner and the party and before we know it it was party time. Weirdest coincidence ever - Faby - a Swiss exchange student from FHS was there. At the party. We talked about Farmington, Mich in Switzerland. Frickin awesome. I hung out with all the guys, Nicole, Martin, Florence, Sarah, and Mijiram mostly. I learned some Swiss German from Matheiu. Shoguit/ Bo g:)it/No Worries. I'm coming back.
So also I had a Swiss kiss with Lukas. He is adorable and handsome and gifted in photography, and coolness, I'd say. I hope to see him again soon.
Sat., April 11 - Day 10
Venice is unlike anything I've ever seen. Except there was a rolly polly. Who knew there are Italian pill bugs? Canals are streets and the actual roads are unnavigable with their typed paper signs. We had our first hiccup when we arrived at the hostel and Petro informed us that they have issues with Hostel World. He was extremely kind, htough and we ended up at a nearby hotel that was more like an apartment. It was rather cute, our little set-up. We had pizza for dinner and had fun just getting lost around the city. Today we crossed bridge after bridge until we made it to the Piazza San Marco to see the sunrise. There was a light fog that absorbed the oranges and yellows and the boats swayed slightly above their perfect reflections. Next ,after check-out and a peaceful breakfast we bought a nutella and whipped cream combo at a canal and I touched the sea! Getting fully in did not seem like the most hygienic idea. Yesterday we rode on a "gondola," a.k.a.water taxi, and I would describe the packed raft as a romantic, special experience. Venice is filled with mini side streets leading to small plazas, or markets, entirely connected by bridges to go from morano bead store to gelato shop to souvenoir stand or maybe even one that sells all three popular items. Now that we're in Italy, thank goodness our search for Fabio is over. Jenna sat next to him on the train ride to Venice. Dreamy is an understatement.
Mon., April 13 - Day 12
AFter we arrived in Florence we went to dinner with Sarah's friends, Lauren, Alex, and Rachel. They are awesome. Easter morning we went to Lauren's friend's apartment right in front of the Duomo. We had a million dollar view of the traditional celebration where they fly a fake dove into a Japanese hut-like contraption to light off an exhilarating show of fireworks, smoke, and explosions. What better for Easter, the day of peace, than to ignite the sound of war by blowing up a dove? I can't really think of anything. Then we hiked through the city, the large open market with Chinese leather that says "Made in Firenze," across one of the three large bridges, and up the winding countryside to Piazza Michelangelo and Piazza Senorita. It may sound like a trek, but we stopped for gelato to recharge. they were not lying about the beauty under the Tuscan Sun. We relazed and talked and it was perfect. After our adventure to a mini-paradise, Laurel and I swent to the market for a bit and then we all met up again at the bridges to watch a spectacular sunset. We went out to dinner and our dreamy waiter with his forearm tat and eybrow piercing gave me my espresso for free. I'd like to think it was because of my dashing looks and charm - ha! - but really I think it was just karma, because I offered first aide to a lady who sprained her ankle and gave the bus tickets I bought but didn't need to a asweet, young, touristy Indian couply. For the lady with the hurt ankle I said, "Excuse me, ma'am, I have a first aide kit. May I offer you some Fast-Acting Pain Relief Medication?" Gosh, I can't wait to be a doctor. Florence had the perfect balance of tourism and local culture. Our hostel was great - Laurel and I ended the night by playing chess and checkers and I hung out with 2 Americans and 2 Australians for a bit. in the morning I met a really nice family ,too, adn I gave them hostel information form where we've visited - except Amsterdam. I figured they didn't want to stay at a place that has a sign, "Congratulations, you survived the Hans Brinker Hostel," when you leave. It was the second kind family I'd met in 24 hours. The other was on the train and since the mom nursed her 3-year-old son as he stared at me, wide-eyed, I decided I like this family a little bit more. Anyway...Florence was one of the prettiest places I have ever seen. I loved that in a 15 minute walk you could be in the hills looking over a river and a blossoming Italy or in a bustling big city. Speaking of big things, I didn't see the real David, but I saw enough replicas to get the picture. Clark, what we call my AAA gudiebook warned us about Rome's chaotic and rushed atmosphere, but Louis, a.k.a. Louey, a.k.a. Laurel's amazing guidebook, said no such ting. Also, according to Hilary Duff's experiences, I'm fairly positive I'll trust Louey and assume Clark is referring to riding or mopeds with handsome strangers. I'll find out sooooon!
Wed., April 15 - Day 14
Roma was no broma. This city was incredible. To imagine that this was where so much history, culture, balue, and knowledge stemmed from blows my mind. When we got in in the afternoon we were yelled at from a window that we had arrived to our hostel. We were greeted by a dude in a cowboy hat and some sketch Italians. After a bit of flirting and awkward comments with music blasting in the background we got the feel of our hostel. There was a wallet on my bed with credit cards, IDs, and over 100euro. The same girl left her Raybands behind. Strange. We also enjoyed waking up to find a guy and girl lying in bed together chatting away in their underwear and ending the conversation, "So where are you from?" Or perhaps our little buddy, Salvador, was the highlight when we figured out that he kept coming into our room, because he slept there. At least we got a breakfast and 2 sandwiches for the road our of our 2euro breakfast and finally some normal Canadian roommates who we befriended and bonded with over the odd, dirty, party hostel. Although occassionally I guess I do like waking up to jammin' music and at times it does serenade me to sleep.
Monday, after checking in we met up with Claire and Caroline, which was wonderfulllllll. We went to the Coliseum and visited ancient roman ruins and the tomb of the unknown soldier. It was beyond sweet. The skyline of Rome is a mix of trees and buildings with the clouds at the same level and the radiant, open blue sky above. Then we ate gelato at a place where I felt like I was at the stock market, but it's the best in Rome and I vote it the best in the world. Plus, an old manhelped me out, which was cool. We got dinner after visiting the world's first Jewish ghetto and watching the sunset on a bridge, and decided to have a very full Tuesday. In fact, Tuesday we walked over a marathon. A little ambitious? I'd say a lot. But it was stupendous. My day began with Jenna giving me my belated Easter gift and then we went to a market and fountains and piazzas and a castle and finally off to VC a.k.a. Vatican City. WOW. That basically describes it. The Basilica was like nothing I've ever seen. It took my breath away and gave me the chills. We climbed the 521 steps to the top to get a better look at - in Sarah's words - the Pope's bachelor pad, but unfortunately, he was not celebrating the gorgeous day by sunbathing on his roof. Maybe next time. After that we went to the Trevi Fountain, threw in a coin - luckily, we didn't fal lin like the man next to us - or perhaps that's even more luck - and finally the Spanish steps. I felt rather proud of those stairs. It's like a little piece of Spain came to us. They didn't really look Spanish - they were basically just stairs, but at least 'Spanish' is in the name, eh? We ate our last dinner all together and it was perfectly lovely. I was considering going back to Zurich, because I'd really like to see Lukas again, but that little trip will have to wait until England I'm afraid. Shoguit. Shoguit. Now to Genova for an afternoon walk and then to Nice where we hope to skinny dip in a fjord. It shouldn't be too hard to do since we successfully lassoed a unicorn in VC. Pero vamos a ver.
Sun., April 19 - Day 18
Nice was nice. After a wonderful 8 hours on the train we arrived and grabbed cheese crepes for dinner. On Thursday, it stormed almost all day. At the first hint of sunshine we ran to the beach where it promptly began to rain again. Thus, we had a relaxing day inside hanging out, siesta-ing, and playing cards. Laurel and I did venture out once and we found socca and homemade ravioli, which was invented in Nice. Great success. Friday we got up early and Stefan adn Nathalie took off for Greece and we hopped on a bus to Monaco. We visited a palace there, which is still heavily guarded by a lone marching man and then wound our way up the hill mountains until we reached the exotic garden, which is filled with mostly cacti. We had an incredible view of the city and a fun time frollicking about so much exotic life - the most rare being the Genger following us. At last we skipped down to la plage. We soaked up plenty of Vitamin D after submerging ourselves into the somewhat warmer than frigid waters of the Mediterranean. On the walk to the train we found ourselves in the midst of the most expensive car show in the world, I'd say. Lucky for us, Europeans assume all Americans are rich and as we passed with our sexy beach hair, shunned flip flops, and worn Target bathing suits, the nice men in tuxedos smiled instead of looking past us as our fellow Americans would have done. When we arrived back in Nice we once again headed up. We climbed the Chateau in search of a waterfall, but to our great shock and confusion, it was turned off. My first thought was, "Why God?" But the fakeness of Nice's famous so-called natural beauty was all too real. Therefore, Nice has no waterfall, but they do, on most days, have a lovely fountain-like, man-made flow of water over a miniature cliff at which tourists may ooh and ahh. We watched the sunset and stopped for socca again in Old Nice. Precious. Adorable. Charming. All are words to describe this adventurous, romantic day with Funglahh and Le Ginger.
We awoke almost in time to see the sunrise and sat on the promenade for a bit before heading to a cafe. Then we spent another fabulous ten hours on the train. This time we rode first class and my solo lazy boy chair as a seat definitely added to the overall travel experience. I even "tricked" my fellow coachmates and when a man asked me in French something I assumed to mean, "Is the next stop Montpellier?" I promptly responded with as much French throat noise as possible, "Oui!" He said, "Oui Montpellier?" And I, "Oui, Montpellier." I gathered my things proudly and as the train passed Nimes instead of Montpellier I became somewhat nervous. A neighboring woman began speaking to me, adding to the pressure I was feeling to continue my facade. Luckily, we didn't stop and the woman smiled, made passing gestures, and I smiled back, nodding and commented, "Oui, oui," before getting the heck out of there. We stopped in Montpellier about twenty minutes later. But it was the next stop. Fool the French. Check.
The next train was straight from the 70s and I pretty much had a futon chair to sit on. I proceeded to spend the next five hours chatting with Kevin, an interior designer from Toronto on vacation with his partner. He was inspirational and an absolute joy to have met.
We ended the night with Scott at the Dow Jones bar. Drink prices fluctuate as people make purchases. Unfortunately, the market never crashed. If only the real stock market could experience such a thing.
Tues., April 21 - End of Trip
Barcelona was quite splendid on Sunday. Stunning, actually. Insteead of the promised thunderstorms by weather.com it was clear skies and 21 degrees. We walked along the beach all morning absorbing the fresh sea air and focusing our eyes on the petite sailboats and wind surfers instead of the nude elders. The beaches lacked my beloved surfers and was replaced by sunbathers, ladies offering massages, and men with thick accents selling bear and Coke. One particular man managing to whisper between shouts as he passed us, "Beer, cerveza! Do you like the hashish? Coca-Cola!" How we pulled off looking even an inkling like stoners is beyond us. Clearly, the man was confused so I just replied, "No, gracias." We ate at our second favorite Irish pub and made our way by bus to Gerona. When we finally arrived in Madrid our bags were the first ones out and we joked about having people waiting for us. And what do you know?! Our dear friend Joni was waving at us on the other side of those mysterious frosted glass doors. What an end to a perfect journey.
Bonjour Paris! But it's more like "hola Paris," because I keep forgetting to not speak Spanish. France greeted me with pink toilet paper, and I must say I felt rather welcomed. Our hotel is 4 blocks from the Eiffel Tower. Can anyone say 'ballin'?!! Someone proposed (ESPOUSE MOI) as we were coming down from the Tower. City of love? Without a doubt, my friend. Speaking of which - we escaped our 2 Spanish companions as tey seemed a little too into the idea of partying with Americans, but our German buddy, Christoph, is definitely a keeper - a.k.a. Facebook friend for life.
Thurs., April 3 - Day 2
A tad bit tired. Laurel and I made a "Day Reflections" video. We had Parisian desserts and wine on the mall of the Eiffel Tower.
Fri., April 4 - Day 3 (reflection of Day 2)
Well, here we are again in Paireeeee. Yesterday we had breakfast at Silvie's apartment. She is so kind and welcoming. It could not have been a better start to the day. We then ran over and bought our Parisian desserts and then metroed to Notre Dame. I couldn't decide if I was more in awe at how spectacular of a place it was or that I was standing in the palce where Disney made a movie. Sarah and I decided both and sang like Esmeralda outside the doors. God help the outcasts - who ironically enough - happen to be us here. I also came to the conclusion that we are on a Disney tour as all the places we go have Disney inspiration. If they actually don't, we pretend they do. The Ceine River urns right by Notre Dame and I was feeling rather tempted to check the costs of a boat ride. Next, we walked all over town to - (refer to Jenna Frey and Laurel Hughes' blogs). We sat outside an art museum eating crepes nutella - I don't think there exists a better chocolate product - we found an unmarked cathedral witha garden and giant haead and hand statue - lovers unite- and we climbed to the top of Sacre Bleu - (not the real name, but easier to remember that way) - and we were able to overlook the whole city. The Louvre was next on the list and I saw Mona Lisa's smile. On the way to Arc du Triumph I ate French fries and decided they are, in fact, the best in France. The banana I ate was the best, too. The Arc was huge and impressive and touching. At this point we had reached the Louvre's "Free" period and after exploring the wonderful world of art I asked information, "Ou e Che Papa?" Basically, that's saying, "Where's daddy's place?" but really I was talking about a restaurant. I got some rather clever remarks back before I figured out that I needed to clarify a bit more. Finally, we made it to "Daddy's Place" and atea delicious French meal. We ended the night at E.T. with Silvie.
Sat., April 4 - Day 3 (reflection of day 3)
I went with Jenna in the a.m. to E.T. and then we bought breakfast to have at Silvie's. What an incredible woman. Also, I ate "French toast," but literally. I was sad to leave Paris - mostly because of Silvie. The sophisteicated, attractive Parisians with their baguettes and crepes in berets making the city of love such a charming palce won me over. Charmed. Check. Now, let's get some waffles. Fo free.
Sun., April 5 - Day 4
Last night we had a night on the town in Brussels. Meaning I spent 11euro on that which I cannot purchase in the States. Barry serenaded us at Celtica- the bar with the world's longest happy hour. Today is Palm Sunday and we stopped in the cathedral for palms and to pray. Then webegan our search for the peeing boy fountain. We ate Belgium waffles in the grand Plaza and bought Godiva chocolate. Brussels is such a peaceful, friendly place. It even attracts kind people like Zen from New Zealand. So we saw the mini boy pissing and soon thereafter we found the pissing girl named Jenna where La Yenna reenacted the scene. Right across the cobbley road was Delirium, the world's Guinness Record holder for the most beers served. We swapped childhood - meaning mostly high school - stories at our giant barrel tables. I was most tempted to buy the barrel to use at Niagra Falls, but I resisted the temptation. Next, we found Brussels' mini Retiro park filled with lovers, which I suppose is allowed since they still speak French in Belgium. I took a little siesta and then we packed up for the train station. We said our goodbyes to Travis (the dog), the "assistant" boy at Hotel Sabina, and to the lovely land of chocolate, "nature inspired" fountain, and waffles (that aren't free, but probably only because they're not fries). I bought each of the girls a flower, because they are great and I'm lucky to have them. Now that I'm realizing my dream of backpacking/duffling through Europe I feel like I'm growing in every way. I just feel so grateful. God has blessed me, graced me, with an awesome life.
Tues., April 7 - Day 6
Amsterdam was weird. Mix Traverse City in the summer and Las Vegas and you get this city. Cnals divide the streets and there are more bikes than cars. Everyone is friendly. The city itself is gorgeous. I even like the fashion there better. Yet, legalized weed and prostitution put a whole different spin on the personality of Amsterdam. It's overflowing with young people. Other highlights include Woke to Walk and, of course, the 3 meandering people who came stumbling to our doorstep. Rugbyand field hockey players were staying at Hans Brinker with us. We arrived during their Tights and Brights party. We mostly just wandered around and yesterday we ended our day at the Flying Pig, where we were supposed to be staying. I splurged and got Diet Coke, a Sprite, and a water. Just call me a rebel. Well, I must say, I'm happy to be moving on safe and sound. Oh yes, and my bff, Voda, texted me this: Disfruta de tus vacaciones de Semana Santa. Evita distracciones y respeta las normas. Recuerda, lo importante es volver. (Translation: Enjoy your Easter/Spring Break vacation. Avoid distractions and respect the traditions/norms. Remember, what's important is returning.) Thank you, Voda, I will return to Spain. No worries.
Wed., April 8 - Day 7
Frankfurt was delightful. We had dinner outside of typical German food - I ate cheese and potato salad. A river runs through the modern city. Today we walked around, saw St. Peter's Church, and strolled across a bridge and around a Plaza. We had to part ways with La Bamba. Also, today we went to an indoor 2 story market, which was deliciously pleasant. My highlight for Germany, however, would have to be watching MTV in English in our PJs last night at the hotel. I've been wondering what Paris (Hilton) has been up to. I'm so hapy I finally know.
The train ride to Zurich is brilliant. There are villages snuggled between mountains surrounded by lush green fields and bountiful trees. I love it. I think Paris (Hilton) would, too.
Fri., April 10 - Day 9
Zurich was perfect. We met our precious little Marc the Shark at teh train station and he showed us the way to his qaint home built on the highest mountain of Zurich. We dropped our stuff at the attic apartment he had set up for us and then we hiked up a bit for a panoramic view of the whole city. We were feeling a bit hungry and Marc informed us that it was too expensive to eat out and he would be making us a typical Swiss dish - apple macaroni (or pronounced similarly). We ventured past the rows of garden huts and did what we could to help our Swiss chef make dinner. We met his roommates and neighbors - Matheiu, Dominic, Sammy, Rafael, and Lukas. Everyone was so kind and welcoming and they all spoke English to include us as much as possible. After dinner we were all ready for bed, but Marc insisted we join the guys and Matheiu's girlfriend, Nicole, for drinks. I sipped at my quarter shot/mixed drink and listened to them all speak in Swiss German. It's definitely not harsh or angry sounding and I loved reading facial expressions. Sarah and I like to make up stories to pretend to understand and at times I was kind of, but not really, close. I slept on a couch and it felt like home.
In the morning we all got ready to go and Marc, concerned and confused, asked, "Well, you don't want to eat anything?" We peeked into the kitchen and, yes, Marky Marc had the table set with a braided loaf of Swiss bread and marmelade ready to go. So we had a delightful breakfast (and bed budumdum) with our host and then hit the road for our new friend to guide us around the city.
Marc showed us his University, a.k.a. Einstein's Hogwarts, Grossmunster, Fraumunster, the most expensive shopping street, and then got us to Lake Zurich where we hopped on a boat and poor Marc had to go to class. I'd have felt worse for him, but he rides a cable car up to Hoggyhogs and even though he laughed as we acted like five-year-olds in Disney World oohing and aahing and squealing (Le Ginger) with excitement, I know his own joy at the sight of a cable car was rejuvinated.
The boat was amazing. I felt pure happiness, joy, gratefulness, contentment during our excursion. Something about water brings me a great sense of peace.
After our "strenuous" boat tour viewing lakeside homes among the Swiss Alps we decided we could use a small siesta. We wandered over to a park that mirrored the University building with all of Zurich lying in between. We siestaed for a short while until we decided that the three six-year-old boys playing football were more exciting. sarah, Le Ginger ,and I joined the game and we had so much fun. Once they beat us we moved our stuff and our snoozing Yenna to the sideline instead of behind the goal. Then Alexander, but he goes by Alex since there is another Alexander in his kindergarten class, came over and asked me to play football with him. Of course, I took on the wee one and he beat me 10-3. Not bad for my third time playing soccer. Sarah played some more, too, and even got yelled at in Swiss German. She responded, shocked, "I know!"
After all these adventures we headed back to the mountain, stopping for a quick photo on a puente. Gosh, I can't get over how much I love fuentes y puentes. And I am still in love with T-Pain and Lonely Island's latest and greatest, which I rapped for a hot second on the boat. Anyway, Sarah gave me a HUGE compliment and said, "Caitlin, I feel like you're the sister I never had." We embraced on the Swiss streets and laughed, but I am truly and genuinely touched.
On the way "home" Laurel and I shared a Magnum. How is that ice cream so delicious? I'm thinking Coca-Cola is not the only ones who experimented with various additives.
We were ready to make PB sandwiches when our Martha Stewart host, Marc, interjected to tell us we'd be eating with them, beacuase Dominic was making spaghetti.
Whoa - I almost forgot. On the way to the park we bought a giant chocolate bunny to share. Then we actually ran into Lukas and Dominic. I had a small flashback to driving with Jonatan in Soraya's car for the first time. I added seeing people I know in Zurich to my list of "cool moments in Europe." Whoohoo for having 2! Ok, 3, because I saw 4 Chinos one day in Madrid at Reina Sofia and Retiro.
We prepared for dinner and the party and before we know it it was party time. Weirdest coincidence ever - Faby - a Swiss exchange student from FHS was there. At the party. We talked about Farmington, Mich in Switzerland. Frickin awesome. I hung out with all the guys, Nicole, Martin, Florence, Sarah, and Mijiram mostly. I learned some Swiss German from Matheiu. Shoguit/ Bo g:)it/No Worries. I'm coming back.
So also I had a Swiss kiss with Lukas. He is adorable and handsome and gifted in photography, and coolness, I'd say. I hope to see him again soon.
Sat., April 11 - Day 10
Venice is unlike anything I've ever seen. Except there was a rolly polly. Who knew there are Italian pill bugs? Canals are streets and the actual roads are unnavigable with their typed paper signs. We had our first hiccup when we arrived at the hostel and Petro informed us that they have issues with Hostel World. He was extremely kind, htough and we ended up at a nearby hotel that was more like an apartment. It was rather cute, our little set-up. We had pizza for dinner and had fun just getting lost around the city. Today we crossed bridge after bridge until we made it to the Piazza San Marco to see the sunrise. There was a light fog that absorbed the oranges and yellows and the boats swayed slightly above their perfect reflections. Next ,after check-out and a peaceful breakfast we bought a nutella and whipped cream combo at a canal and I touched the sea! Getting fully in did not seem like the most hygienic idea. Yesterday we rode on a "gondola," a.k.a.water taxi, and I would describe the packed raft as a romantic, special experience. Venice is filled with mini side streets leading to small plazas, or markets, entirely connected by bridges to go from morano bead store to gelato shop to souvenoir stand or maybe even one that sells all three popular items. Now that we're in Italy, thank goodness our search for Fabio is over. Jenna sat next to him on the train ride to Venice. Dreamy is an understatement.
Mon., April 13 - Day 12
AFter we arrived in Florence we went to dinner with Sarah's friends, Lauren, Alex, and Rachel. They are awesome. Easter morning we went to Lauren's friend's apartment right in front of the Duomo. We had a million dollar view of the traditional celebration where they fly a fake dove into a Japanese hut-like contraption to light off an exhilarating show of fireworks, smoke, and explosions. What better for Easter, the day of peace, than to ignite the sound of war by blowing up a dove? I can't really think of anything. Then we hiked through the city, the large open market with Chinese leather that says "Made in Firenze," across one of the three large bridges, and up the winding countryside to Piazza Michelangelo and Piazza Senorita. It may sound like a trek, but we stopped for gelato to recharge. they were not lying about the beauty under the Tuscan Sun. We relazed and talked and it was perfect. After our adventure to a mini-paradise, Laurel and I swent to the market for a bit and then we all met up again at the bridges to watch a spectacular sunset. We went out to dinner and our dreamy waiter with his forearm tat and eybrow piercing gave me my espresso for free. I'd like to think it was because of my dashing looks and charm - ha! - but really I think it was just karma, because I offered first aide to a lady who sprained her ankle and gave the bus tickets I bought but didn't need to a asweet, young, touristy Indian couply. For the lady with the hurt ankle I said, "Excuse me, ma'am, I have a first aide kit. May I offer you some Fast-Acting Pain Relief Medication?" Gosh, I can't wait to be a doctor. Florence had the perfect balance of tourism and local culture. Our hostel was great - Laurel and I ended the night by playing chess and checkers and I hung out with 2 Americans and 2 Australians for a bit. in the morning I met a really nice family ,too, adn I gave them hostel information form where we've visited - except Amsterdam. I figured they didn't want to stay at a place that has a sign, "Congratulations, you survived the Hans Brinker Hostel," when you leave. It was the second kind family I'd met in 24 hours. The other was on the train and since the mom nursed her 3-year-old son as he stared at me, wide-eyed, I decided I like this family a little bit more. Anyway...Florence was one of the prettiest places I have ever seen. I loved that in a 15 minute walk you could be in the hills looking over a river and a blossoming Italy or in a bustling big city. Speaking of big things, I didn't see the real David, but I saw enough replicas to get the picture. Clark, what we call my AAA gudiebook warned us about Rome's chaotic and rushed atmosphere, but Louis, a.k.a. Louey, a.k.a. Laurel's amazing guidebook, said no such ting. Also, according to Hilary Duff's experiences, I'm fairly positive I'll trust Louey and assume Clark is referring to riding or mopeds with handsome strangers. I'll find out sooooon!
Wed., April 15 - Day 14
Roma was no broma. This city was incredible. To imagine that this was where so much history, culture, balue, and knowledge stemmed from blows my mind. When we got in in the afternoon we were yelled at from a window that we had arrived to our hostel. We were greeted by a dude in a cowboy hat and some sketch Italians. After a bit of flirting and awkward comments with music blasting in the background we got the feel of our hostel. There was a wallet on my bed with credit cards, IDs, and over 100euro. The same girl left her Raybands behind. Strange. We also enjoyed waking up to find a guy and girl lying in bed together chatting away in their underwear and ending the conversation, "So where are you from?" Or perhaps our little buddy, Salvador, was the highlight when we figured out that he kept coming into our room, because he slept there. At least we got a breakfast and 2 sandwiches for the road our of our 2euro breakfast and finally some normal Canadian roommates who we befriended and bonded with over the odd, dirty, party hostel. Although occassionally I guess I do like waking up to jammin' music and at times it does serenade me to sleep.
Monday, after checking in we met up with Claire and Caroline, which was wonderfulllllll. We went to the Coliseum and visited ancient roman ruins and the tomb of the unknown soldier. It was beyond sweet. The skyline of Rome is a mix of trees and buildings with the clouds at the same level and the radiant, open blue sky above. Then we ate gelato at a place where I felt like I was at the stock market, but it's the best in Rome and I vote it the best in the world. Plus, an old manhelped me out, which was cool. We got dinner after visiting the world's first Jewish ghetto and watching the sunset on a bridge, and decided to have a very full Tuesday. In fact, Tuesday we walked over a marathon. A little ambitious? I'd say a lot. But it was stupendous. My day began with Jenna giving me my belated Easter gift and then we went to a market and fountains and piazzas and a castle and finally off to VC a.k.a. Vatican City. WOW. That basically describes it. The Basilica was like nothing I've ever seen. It took my breath away and gave me the chills. We climbed the 521 steps to the top to get a better look at - in Sarah's words - the Pope's bachelor pad, but unfortunately, he was not celebrating the gorgeous day by sunbathing on his roof. Maybe next time. After that we went to the Trevi Fountain, threw in a coin - luckily, we didn't fal lin like the man next to us - or perhaps that's even more luck - and finally the Spanish steps. I felt rather proud of those stairs. It's like a little piece of Spain came to us. They didn't really look Spanish - they were basically just stairs, but at least 'Spanish' is in the name, eh? We ate our last dinner all together and it was perfectly lovely. I was considering going back to Zurich, because I'd really like to see Lukas again, but that little trip will have to wait until England I'm afraid. Shoguit. Shoguit. Now to Genova for an afternoon walk and then to Nice where we hope to skinny dip in a fjord. It shouldn't be too hard to do since we successfully lassoed a unicorn in VC. Pero vamos a ver.
Sun., April 19 - Day 18
Nice was nice. After a wonderful 8 hours on the train we arrived and grabbed cheese crepes for dinner. On Thursday, it stormed almost all day. At the first hint of sunshine we ran to the beach where it promptly began to rain again. Thus, we had a relaxing day inside hanging out, siesta-ing, and playing cards. Laurel and I did venture out once and we found socca and homemade ravioli, which was invented in Nice. Great success. Friday we got up early and Stefan adn Nathalie took off for Greece and we hopped on a bus to Monaco. We visited a palace there, which is still heavily guarded by a lone marching man and then wound our way up the hill mountains until we reached the exotic garden, which is filled with mostly cacti. We had an incredible view of the city and a fun time frollicking about so much exotic life - the most rare being the Genger following us. At last we skipped down to la plage. We soaked up plenty of Vitamin D after submerging ourselves into the somewhat warmer than frigid waters of the Mediterranean. On the walk to the train we found ourselves in the midst of the most expensive car show in the world, I'd say. Lucky for us, Europeans assume all Americans are rich and as we passed with our sexy beach hair, shunned flip flops, and worn Target bathing suits, the nice men in tuxedos smiled instead of looking past us as our fellow Americans would have done. When we arrived back in Nice we once again headed up. We climbed the Chateau in search of a waterfall, but to our great shock and confusion, it was turned off. My first thought was, "Why God?" But the fakeness of Nice's famous so-called natural beauty was all too real. Therefore, Nice has no waterfall, but they do, on most days, have a lovely fountain-like, man-made flow of water over a miniature cliff at which tourists may ooh and ahh. We watched the sunset and stopped for socca again in Old Nice. Precious. Adorable. Charming. All are words to describe this adventurous, romantic day with Funglahh and Le Ginger.
We awoke almost in time to see the sunrise and sat on the promenade for a bit before heading to a cafe. Then we spent another fabulous ten hours on the train. This time we rode first class and my solo lazy boy chair as a seat definitely added to the overall travel experience. I even "tricked" my fellow coachmates and when a man asked me in French something I assumed to mean, "Is the next stop Montpellier?" I promptly responded with as much French throat noise as possible, "Oui!" He said, "Oui Montpellier?" And I, "Oui, Montpellier." I gathered my things proudly and as the train passed Nimes instead of Montpellier I became somewhat nervous. A neighboring woman began speaking to me, adding to the pressure I was feeling to continue my facade. Luckily, we didn't stop and the woman smiled, made passing gestures, and I smiled back, nodding and commented, "Oui, oui," before getting the heck out of there. We stopped in Montpellier about twenty minutes later. But it was the next stop. Fool the French. Check.
The next train was straight from the 70s and I pretty much had a futon chair to sit on. I proceeded to spend the next five hours chatting with Kevin, an interior designer from Toronto on vacation with his partner. He was inspirational and an absolute joy to have met.
We ended the night with Scott at the Dow Jones bar. Drink prices fluctuate as people make purchases. Unfortunately, the market never crashed. If only the real stock market could experience such a thing.
Tues., April 21 - End of Trip
Barcelona was quite splendid on Sunday. Stunning, actually. Insteead of the promised thunderstorms by weather.com it was clear skies and 21 degrees. We walked along the beach all morning absorbing the fresh sea air and focusing our eyes on the petite sailboats and wind surfers instead of the nude elders. The beaches lacked my beloved surfers and was replaced by sunbathers, ladies offering massages, and men with thick accents selling bear and Coke. One particular man managing to whisper between shouts as he passed us, "Beer, cerveza! Do you like the hashish? Coca-Cola!" How we pulled off looking even an inkling like stoners is beyond us. Clearly, the man was confused so I just replied, "No, gracias." We ate at our second favorite Irish pub and made our way by bus to Gerona. When we finally arrived in Madrid our bags were the first ones out and we joked about having people waiting for us. And what do you know?! Our dear friend Joni was waving at us on the other side of those mysterious frosted glass doors. What an end to a perfect journey.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Blog Changes
As you may have noticed, you now receive a notice of adult content in my blog. I feel that this was only appropriate, because I am, in fact, an adult. As I am living an adult life I figure what I post is literally "adult content," and, therefore, requires a fair warning upon entering. In addition, I changed the title, previously, "Don Quixotlin Takes Over Spain", to "Spain: A World of Wonders." This is due to the fact that I actually despise don Quixote, and wish to be reminded of him as little as possible. Perhaps if my professor taught more about the literary genius of the story instead of thoroughly convincing the Terps that the book is meaningless through his exaggerated analyses and hyperbolized symbols and references to Catholocism that do not actually exist we may have enjoyed the infamous novel. Oh well.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Barcaaaaaah
We arrive in Barcelona Thursday night and as we walk to our hotel we see hundreds and hundreds of students gathered at the placa right outside. What could this be? Oh nothing but the student riot against the privatization of European universities that was on the news the other day showing the violence between the police and students and the students and foreigners. Lovely. However, before we arrived Sarah fought off a man who put his hands in her bag to pickpocket her. All in a day's work.
As we're watching the riot unfold at a safe distance on our hotel balcony I happen to glance up to see a handsome young face on the balcony above. I tell Jenna and we look up again to now see two guapos. We signal Laurel and now there are three slices of Italy staring back. And the friendship began. Stefano, a.k.a. Stevie, Ricardo, a.k.a. Rich the Bitch, (he gave himself the nickname), and Gianmarco, a.k.a Gianmarco...are 22 year olds from Como, Italy. They live in the mountains, know minimal English, and are eager to teach us some Italian. Everyone went to dinner at a place around the corner and then Jenna, Laurel, and I hung out with the boys. I'm not sure how helpful the Italian they taught us is since every phrase somehow led to some inappropriate comment we could make, but we do know how to say "cool". I think that's enough for me.
Well, Gianmarco and Rich went off to the discoteca, while Stevie and I stayed back and talked for two hours, utilizing all of his English vocabulary. I love language barriers. You just feel so accomplished when you understand each other. Or when you think you know what's going on.
The dudes left in the a.m. and we were early-risers for a fun-filled day in Barca. We did the double decker tour bus, stopped at Parc Guell, went to two cathedrals, saw La Sagrada Familia, the football stadium, the Olympic area, the Mediterranean Sea, several works by Gaudi, hit up the Picasso Museum, and at last escaped Hernan, our professor who believes that Spain is the center of the universe and believes that the mere fact that we are not of Spanish descent makes it impossible for us to ever come close to his royal status of a human being nor to his impecable level of natural intelligence. After all, none of us know the symbolism of a glass palace in the works of Mother Teresa, for example. Anyway, Parc Guell was breathtaking. I felt like a who in the land of Dr. Seuss. Also, I can't believe Picasso's most famous work can be recreated by a kindergardener when he has sketches that real art students would have trouble recreating.
Saturday was a tad bit rainy, but we made it up to the top of a house designed by Gaudi called Casa Milo. It was basically a scene from Star Wars on the top of the roof. The attic looked like the top of gothic style cathedrals, and then I sat in a curvy double chair I discovered later that was also made by Gaudi. It was incredible. Currently, administration of a bank functions on floors 2-6.
We then wandered the city in the pouring rain until we reached the Museu Nacional d'arte de Cataluna where we spent the afternoon. The view from the top of the museum on the top of the hill was amazing. Directly across on another hill was a cathedral and in between was a city-filled valley. My favorite artist was Joaquim Mir.
After pondering art for a couple of hours, Tiff, Jenna, Laurel, and I searched for some Magnums, but settled on buying some wine at the grocery store before heading to the Magic Fountain Show outside of the museum. Hello, Disney World! I may not have been in the most magical place on Earth, but it sure came close.
Laurel and I decided to walk La Rambla a bit and we went to the open market, while Jenna went to an Opera/Flamenco show at a mini-Broadway Palau de Musica. We had a lovely chat with a local working at the dry fruit/sweets stand. He began the conversation, "Hey, baby. Your legs are so sexy." I suppose that works on some young American college girls. I responded, "Hey." I was fairly certain Mad TV was close by with the way he kept raising his eyebrows, but apparently not. When we got back to the hotel after Maoz - deliciousness in a 10x10sq. ft. room - we took a quick siesta, which turned into a prenap before deciding to just go to bed for the rest of the night.
Sunday, the breakfast in the hotel did not disappoint again. The Ginger and I headed off down La Rambla, stopped at a Chocolate Museum and a closed Bagel Shop, until we reached an odd carnival/fair sponsored by an insurance company. Cristobal Colon - the statue - pointed us in the direction of the beach, and we plopped down and watched the surfers in their glory on the Mediterranean. They are absolutely the coolest group of people on this planet. I am completely and totally enthralled by them. After that we got some cafe con leche and went on a hunt for sushi. We were unsuccessful, but we did pass all 3 of the Maoz stores in Barcelona, and after gelatto we settled on falafel once again.
I passed out before the train even left the station and woke up in Madrid. Yesterday, we met up with Jonatan for coffee, and today Kristen and I started our internship tutoring English. Right.....
Now, time to dye Easter eggs for an early celebration. Hopefully, the buses are back on schedule since the King was here this morning.
As we're watching the riot unfold at a safe distance on our hotel balcony I happen to glance up to see a handsome young face on the balcony above. I tell Jenna and we look up again to now see two guapos. We signal Laurel and now there are three slices of Italy staring back. And the friendship began. Stefano, a.k.a. Stevie, Ricardo, a.k.a. Rich the Bitch, (he gave himself the nickname), and Gianmarco, a.k.a Gianmarco...are 22 year olds from Como, Italy. They live in the mountains, know minimal English, and are eager to teach us some Italian. Everyone went to dinner at a place around the corner and then Jenna, Laurel, and I hung out with the boys. I'm not sure how helpful the Italian they taught us is since every phrase somehow led to some inappropriate comment we could make, but we do know how to say "cool". I think that's enough for me.
Well, Gianmarco and Rich went off to the discoteca, while Stevie and I stayed back and talked for two hours, utilizing all of his English vocabulary. I love language barriers. You just feel so accomplished when you understand each other. Or when you think you know what's going on.
The dudes left in the a.m. and we were early-risers for a fun-filled day in Barca. We did the double decker tour bus, stopped at Parc Guell, went to two cathedrals, saw La Sagrada Familia, the football stadium, the Olympic area, the Mediterranean Sea, several works by Gaudi, hit up the Picasso Museum, and at last escaped Hernan, our professor who believes that Spain is the center of the universe and believes that the mere fact that we are not of Spanish descent makes it impossible for us to ever come close to his royal status of a human being nor to his impecable level of natural intelligence. After all, none of us know the symbolism of a glass palace in the works of Mother Teresa, for example. Anyway, Parc Guell was breathtaking. I felt like a who in the land of Dr. Seuss. Also, I can't believe Picasso's most famous work can be recreated by a kindergardener when he has sketches that real art students would have trouble recreating.
Saturday was a tad bit rainy, but we made it up to the top of a house designed by Gaudi called Casa Milo. It was basically a scene from Star Wars on the top of the roof. The attic looked like the top of gothic style cathedrals, and then I sat in a curvy double chair I discovered later that was also made by Gaudi. It was incredible. Currently, administration of a bank functions on floors 2-6.
We then wandered the city in the pouring rain until we reached the Museu Nacional d'arte de Cataluna where we spent the afternoon. The view from the top of the museum on the top of the hill was amazing. Directly across on another hill was a cathedral and in between was a city-filled valley. My favorite artist was Joaquim Mir.
After pondering art for a couple of hours, Tiff, Jenna, Laurel, and I searched for some Magnums, but settled on buying some wine at the grocery store before heading to the Magic Fountain Show outside of the museum. Hello, Disney World! I may not have been in the most magical place on Earth, but it sure came close.
Laurel and I decided to walk La Rambla a bit and we went to the open market, while Jenna went to an Opera/Flamenco show at a mini-Broadway Palau de Musica. We had a lovely chat with a local working at the dry fruit/sweets stand. He began the conversation, "Hey, baby. Your legs are so sexy." I suppose that works on some young American college girls. I responded, "Hey." I was fairly certain Mad TV was close by with the way he kept raising his eyebrows, but apparently not. When we got back to the hotel after Maoz - deliciousness in a 10x10sq. ft. room - we took a quick siesta, which turned into a prenap before deciding to just go to bed for the rest of the night.
Sunday, the breakfast in the hotel did not disappoint again. The Ginger and I headed off down La Rambla, stopped at a Chocolate Museum and a closed Bagel Shop, until we reached an odd carnival/fair sponsored by an insurance company. Cristobal Colon - the statue - pointed us in the direction of the beach, and we plopped down and watched the surfers in their glory on the Mediterranean. They are absolutely the coolest group of people on this planet. I am completely and totally enthralled by them. After that we got some cafe con leche and went on a hunt for sushi. We were unsuccessful, but we did pass all 3 of the Maoz stores in Barcelona, and after gelatto we settled on falafel once again.
I passed out before the train even left the station and woke up in Madrid. Yesterday, we met up with Jonatan for coffee, and today Kristen and I started our internship tutoring English. Right.....
Now, time to dye Easter eggs for an early celebration. Hopefully, the buses are back on schedule since the King was here this morning.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Talvera probably would not have been as successful had it been "del Rey"
Pablito and Me in Toledo
Holy Toledo!
T to the Ledo
My Castle
Fishing in the Tajo in Talavera
Whoa dang
I'm in a bit of shock at my lack of blogging in the past 3 weeks. However, we'll get through this.
So after Justin came, Kelly came! Well, actually their trips overlapped. Jenna and I had the great joy of being in finals week, but Kelly, of course, had a full itinerary of museums and cultural events. She left just as much of a Spaniard as I will after having spent 4 months in this country.
I was so grateful to have Kelly here when I found out that I was accepted into the Maryland-Keele Exchange Program. She was just the support I needed. :) Turns out I'm going to England for the 2009-2010 school year. Fo free.
The day after finals we threw Javi a "Good luck in France with your woman even though you haven't told us you're leaving and it was Mariaje who let the cat out of the bag" party. Everyone brought food and chipped in for the cake. I thought the cake with Snow White and her Prince was most appropriate.
At the end of Kel's trip, Claire and Caroline made the trek down from London, and the 4 of us explored Madrid. We spent Kel's last night at Los Amigos Hostal and the name held true. We did in fact make some amigos. A cheery bunch of boys studying in Scotland were just down the hall and I can't say I didn't feel some pride for Madcity when I told them all the fun, free stuff to do during their stay.
We did the whole Kapital adventure Saturday night, we arrived home at 5:45a.m. and at 6a.m. Kel and I were out the door to the airport. When I got back I took a mini-siesta and then the CCC crowd headed to el Rastro, ate Magnums in a somewhat ghetto area of Madcity, and then went to Retiro. The line was too long for el Prado so I just acted out the artwork for them instead. I'd say it was a great success.
When we finally got in touch with our Scottish friends, we were able to pick up our bags, which we left in their room, and then we proceeded to spend the entire night in the airport. When I rolled into Resa the next morning I hadn't slept for 42 hours. I'm going with the idea that it's practice for when I'm a resident.
Next, on St. Patrick's Day we graduated! I've never seen such a big ceremony for 10 weeks of classes before. The whole ordeal was just precious. They called each of our names, Mariaje cried, we dos beso-d everyone, and took pictures with our diplomas. Afterward, Jenna, Laurel, Laurel's friends, Jonatan, and I went out to eat to celebrate. The celebration continued into the night when we went to Wheland's, one of the two bars in town actually celebrating what we discovered to be a mainly American fiesta.
The next day I decided to venture to Talavera de la Reina, Pablo's home. But not before first thinking it was a good idea to get a hair trim. Jenna and I went to the very Spanish, Marco Aldany, and when I asked for 2cm I got 6 inches, and when Jenna said her hair parts in the middle and won't stay to the side she simply got a "No." Note to self and to world - do not get your hair cut in Spain.
At Pabs', we celebrated Father's Day on Thursday and went to my first castle, Oropesa. I felt like a little medieval figurine. So the story goes that the princess who lived there was weighed against gold to determine the value of her kingdom. She didn't let her people down and her legend is simply that she was really really fat. Also, at one point, she got pregnant and to this day no one knows if it was by a royal dude, a knight guy, or a peasant who worked in the kitchen. I think food won her heart, but that's just me.
On Friday, we went to Toledo. It's gorgeous! It's exactly how I imagined Spain. The Tajo River flows through the city built on rolling hills and cliffs, and the cobbled roads weave through ancient buildings, cathedrals, and synagogues. The expression "Holy Toledo!" was born here due to the famous Cathedral. I made sure to say this a couple times throughout the day. We caught the train back to Talavera, famous for its ceramics, and went to my first Spanish concert. I had a ball, and I guess everyone else did, too. You wouldn't have been able to tell, though, because there wasn't more than a headbob going on.
Pablo's whole family was super kind, and his mom gave me a ceramic glass. Marta's mom also knitted me a poncho and sent it to me. That along with their amazing home cooking makes me feel very loved by the Spanish parents.
I got back Saturday night right in time to enjoy an excellent dinner with Sarah and Owen on Owen's last night. Then Sunday, Sarah, Evan, Jenna, and I went to Reina Sofia, which boosted my self-esteem in the art world, to Retiro, where I took my siesta, and then to this cool restaurant/cafe place I found that has really good nachos.
No school until DQ class felt amazing on Monday. Everyone played catch-up, and Tuesday would have felt just as great had I not been throwing up all Monday night/Tuesday morning. Why? Who knows? But if I was going to be sick one day I really could not have chosen a better day.
However, if I had to name the new most exciting event in my life it would be Lonely Island's release of "I'm on a boat." The possibilities for remakes are basically endless. Thank you, T-Pain, for always spreading joy.
So after Justin came, Kelly came! Well, actually their trips overlapped. Jenna and I had the great joy of being in finals week, but Kelly, of course, had a full itinerary of museums and cultural events. She left just as much of a Spaniard as I will after having spent 4 months in this country.
I was so grateful to have Kelly here when I found out that I was accepted into the Maryland-Keele Exchange Program. She was just the support I needed. :) Turns out I'm going to England for the 2009-2010 school year. Fo free.
The day after finals we threw Javi a "Good luck in France with your woman even though you haven't told us you're leaving and it was Mariaje who let the cat out of the bag" party. Everyone brought food and chipped in for the cake. I thought the cake with Snow White and her Prince was most appropriate.
At the end of Kel's trip, Claire and Caroline made the trek down from London, and the 4 of us explored Madrid. We spent Kel's last night at Los Amigos Hostal and the name held true. We did in fact make some amigos. A cheery bunch of boys studying in Scotland were just down the hall and I can't say I didn't feel some pride for Madcity when I told them all the fun, free stuff to do during their stay.
We did the whole Kapital adventure Saturday night, we arrived home at 5:45a.m. and at 6a.m. Kel and I were out the door to the airport. When I got back I took a mini-siesta and then the CCC crowd headed to el Rastro, ate Magnums in a somewhat ghetto area of Madcity, and then went to Retiro. The line was too long for el Prado so I just acted out the artwork for them instead. I'd say it was a great success.
When we finally got in touch with our Scottish friends, we were able to pick up our bags, which we left in their room, and then we proceeded to spend the entire night in the airport. When I rolled into Resa the next morning I hadn't slept for 42 hours. I'm going with the idea that it's practice for when I'm a resident.
Next, on St. Patrick's Day we graduated! I've never seen such a big ceremony for 10 weeks of classes before. The whole ordeal was just precious. They called each of our names, Mariaje cried, we dos beso-d everyone, and took pictures with our diplomas. Afterward, Jenna, Laurel, Laurel's friends, Jonatan, and I went out to eat to celebrate. The celebration continued into the night when we went to Wheland's, one of the two bars in town actually celebrating what we discovered to be a mainly American fiesta.
The next day I decided to venture to Talavera de la Reina, Pablo's home. But not before first thinking it was a good idea to get a hair trim. Jenna and I went to the very Spanish, Marco Aldany, and when I asked for 2cm I got 6 inches, and when Jenna said her hair parts in the middle and won't stay to the side she simply got a "No." Note to self and to world - do not get your hair cut in Spain.
At Pabs', we celebrated Father's Day on Thursday and went to my first castle, Oropesa. I felt like a little medieval figurine. So the story goes that the princess who lived there was weighed against gold to determine the value of her kingdom. She didn't let her people down and her legend is simply that she was really really fat. Also, at one point, she got pregnant and to this day no one knows if it was by a royal dude, a knight guy, or a peasant who worked in the kitchen. I think food won her heart, but that's just me.
On Friday, we went to Toledo. It's gorgeous! It's exactly how I imagined Spain. The Tajo River flows through the city built on rolling hills and cliffs, and the cobbled roads weave through ancient buildings, cathedrals, and synagogues. The expression "Holy Toledo!" was born here due to the famous Cathedral. I made sure to say this a couple times throughout the day. We caught the train back to Talavera, famous for its ceramics, and went to my first Spanish concert. I had a ball, and I guess everyone else did, too. You wouldn't have been able to tell, though, because there wasn't more than a headbob going on.
Pablo's whole family was super kind, and his mom gave me a ceramic glass. Marta's mom also knitted me a poncho and sent it to me. That along with their amazing home cooking makes me feel very loved by the Spanish parents.
I got back Saturday night right in time to enjoy an excellent dinner with Sarah and Owen on Owen's last night. Then Sunday, Sarah, Evan, Jenna, and I went to Reina Sofia, which boosted my self-esteem in the art world, to Retiro, where I took my siesta, and then to this cool restaurant/cafe place I found that has really good nachos.
No school until DQ class felt amazing on Monday. Everyone played catch-up, and Tuesday would have felt just as great had I not been throwing up all Monday night/Tuesday morning. Why? Who knows? But if I was going to be sick one day I really could not have chosen a better day.
However, if I had to name the new most exciting event in my life it would be Lonely Island's release of "I'm on a boat." The possibilities for remakes are basically endless. Thank you, T-Pain, for always spreading joy.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Land of ENGlish
I'm selling this to Hallmark.
Me, Caroline, Claire - Triple C Unite
We're laughing, but I'm not sure why. Pain is not funny.
Palace
Just for you, T.I.
Hello, Tyra.
Brighton Pier
My future child. Again.
Lovely Homes of Brightness
London Eye is watchingggg us.
My house - Buckingham Palace.
Big Ol' Ben
Conrad! (And his women)
The Italians (hiding their white teeth)
The Rosetta Stone. I touched it.
You sound like you're from London!
Oh my how time is beginning to fly here. Well, I returned to the Mothaland aka England.
I arrived on the soil of my ancestors Wednesday night. In Madrid I met a girl, Axxel, world traveler from France, and a guy, Alvaro, from Marbella, Spain, but student of English schools since age 5 - quite deceiving. Well, the three of us were peas in a pod and talked the entire flight, exchanged info., and will probably take family vacations together one day.
When we landed I took the train with Alvaro and his girlfriend to London and then Claire and Caroline were waiting for me at the Tube stop. And it began.
Their flat is located in between the Sherlock Holmes Museum, where sometimes a customer may climb out of the kitchen window into their courtyard outside of their bedrooms, and the Volunteer, a pub/restaurant. We went to the Volunteer and ordered strawberry beer and nachos. Welcome to London - the land of better food.
Thursday the girls had class so I walked one block from their school to the British Museum. With no security, I thought I came in some secret entrance, but when I saw everyone taking pictures and hugging Egyptian ruins I realized that there was a tad more freedom here than in all other museums I have visited. I saw the Rosetta Stone and translated it twice for practice. Alright, I just thought about how cool it would've been if I just pretended to start reading it.
Sometime into my Museum excursion I was pondering a helmet for about three seconds when a 30-some-year-old man named Kyle came and started talking to me by looking at the helmet and saying, "You like that?" No, Kyle, I'm not actually a big fan of ancient headgear. But really I said, "This? Oh yeah." At the beginning of the conversation, he was from Egypt, and by the end he was from Ohio. He encouraged me to check out Cleveland's night life. It really wasn't odd that he was talking to me since every other person there was either a) on a field trip, b) really old, or c) foreign/non-English Speaking, usually Spanish. However, I decided it was best to inform dear Kyle that we cannot, in fact, be friends, because Michiganders do like people from Ohio.
Kyle- "Oh, that's just silly college rivalry stuff."
Caitlin - "Well, I don't actually think it's silly, because I'm still in college"
Kyle- "It's just with sports though not with all the people from the state. I mean here we're just Americans."
Caitlin- "I'm pretty sure it's with sports and all their fans, and I take it pretty seriously. Maybe if you weren't from Ohio, because there are a lot of Americans in London. Nice to meet you, Kyle, bye."
I saw him once more in the museum and although he really wanted to explore London together I had to sadly inform him that I had other college friends here who were surprising me with a very busy afternoon of adventure and I had no idea where I'd be.
After class, we headed to an Asian restaurant, Wagamama, to go over all that we'd planned to do that day. We did some shopping on Oxford Street and I continued exploring the city while they went to their night class. Caroline, future Top Chef of America, made dinner and then the three of us, Rachel, and Caroline's Turkish boi, Dameer, bounced off to O'Neill's - the best pub in the world.
On the Tube, we found it very amusing to speak about how we on tour with Wicked, or in a band called Metallic Ice, or how Eminem is my cousin. Or sometimes, while waiting for the trian, we'd just sing. I'm not sure how this started, but it made our experiences with public transportation rather exciting.
Then. On the walk to O'Neill's from the Tube stop - in some completely random place in London - I hear my name. I turn. Who is there, but my bosom buddy, Kyle. How do these things happen to me? We enjoyed one more amicable conversation and Claire, Caroline, and I decided that he would probably follow us for the rest of the weekend. If he did, he did not reveal himself again, but we probably would not have been surprised if he popped up at the oh -so-popular-and-famous Home of Holmes.
O'Neill's was glorious. I met my future husband, Conrad, the bouncer from South Africa. I met "my cousin", John, who works for Apple, some Italian boys from Rome - one who's teeth were especially white, Simon from New Zealand who was very friendly, 2 boys whom I gave "Eminem's cell phone number", and on the bus, 2 Kenyan men - one living in Norway and the other in London. Pretty much, I decided that English people are the kindest, most polite people in the world. And I love it.
Friday, we slept in a bit after our long adventure the night before. Then Caroline made breakfast and by the time I went outside it was London's rush hour. Caroline, Claire, Rachel, and I went to the London Eye, watched a romantic sunset over Big Ben and Buckingham Palace, and then headed to an Italian restaurant for dinner. When we left, we were nearly trampled by about 200 rioting, screaming teens. I asked a police officer what was going on and he replied, "Well, this may be rude of me to say, but I believe some teens organized a sort of chaotic event on Facebook."
Next, we went to a precious little pub to watch their friend, MJG, sing and play the guitar. He put on a great performance, and then it turned out that the guy I was sitting next to and chatting with was up next with his band. A true English band - they brought imo and rock and roll together with a perfect mix of tambourine, shouting, and acoustic melodies.
Saturday, we headed to Brighton - the seaside city known as a weekend getaway for affairs. We played MASH on the train - and great news! I'm marrying Prince Harry, but the adjective to describe him is dead. However, we did have 3 children, and at least he's not "lacking" like Claire's future husband. Caroline seems to be the lucky one - marrying Smeagol from Tesco (like 7/11), who, most likely by means of plastic surgery, is devastatingly handsome.
We ate the traditional English breakfast/feast when we arrived of toast, eggs, hash browns, veggie sausage, beans, and tomatoes. The unique shops lined the colorful streets and we decided it'd be best if we took "Top Model" shots when we felt especially inspired, such as in front of giant murals of graffiti. Also, the store names were rather entertaining. Our favorite was probably the historic Corn Exchange. Too bad we forgot to bring some.
Soon we found ourselves at a Palace. We were actually in the perfectly trimmed backyard of a palace, but eventually we found the front door. After pretending to debate whether or not we wanted to buy the guide with beautiful pictures of all the rooms inside to use on the tour inside, we decided to skip that little six euro excursion and headed to the beach. On the way we stopped into an art museum.
The Brighton Pier is an enchanting new world for those under ten, trippy for those rebellious English teens, a cheesy date for young lovers, and a casino for the elderly who like to race against five-year-old children dressed as Spiderman and beat them even though they could have won a giant 5-foot long shark stuffed-animal. For everyone else, the Pier is just kind of another creepy carnival. It was great.
The sun peeking through the clouds inspired us to try out the English Channel. When we entered the more-freezing-cold-than-ice water, a wave came, and we may have experienced symptoms of hypothermia in our legs. We laid down on the seashell pebbled beach to recover. We took a lot of awkward pictures where at least one of us had a double chin each time - but not on purpose. Then found a mall and after a long search, an Asian restaurant that didn't open for 10 minutes.
After dinner we went into a couple pubs and watched all the people watching an England v. Ireland rugby game yell and shout. It was the bullocks.
To end our lovely day trip we went to a cafe for a typical English dessert. The Irish waitress was super-super-nice and brought up the chef's recipe book from the kitchen for us to copy the recipe. Needless to say, I love England.
The day did not exhaust us enough to not celebrate our last evening at O'Neill's, of course. Conrad picked us up and spun us around and the night commenced. First, we met a ScoIrish guy, Chris, who lost a bet and had to wear a 10pound outfit from a thrift store. His red leather vest and flower blouse, I thought, brought out his eyes. Another Irish guy, after requesting us to rap, went off in a tizzy - most likely overwhelmed by our greatness. My "2nd cousin" was not so convinced of our blood relation and I ended our potentially life-long friendship running away saying, "I don't believe in incest." The dance floor was, as always, wonderfully crazy. We met a group of guys in the English Army, and Dan and I especially got along. Yet, after two Strongbows and however many his military kidneys can handle, we seemed to forget the whole exchange of last names, phone numbers, e-mails, etc. After a bit more dancing we decided to explore the first floor, where I met a 25-year-old French man named Stan who's opening a hospital in London. We hit it off and I even remembered my phone number when he asked so we could be bff's, but I also did not meet him outside for a smoke like I said I would, and thus, have only myself to blame for letting the relationship crumble. A close to teary goodbye with Conrad ended the O'Neill's outing and we hopped on the bus home. I spoke with a nice English gentleman accountant on the ride home.
We arrived to the flat at about 4am and as we enjoyed our Magnum ice cream - it's just delicious ice cream, it has no relation to other companies named Magnum - and then we realized that my bus for the airport would leave in an hour. I jumped in the shower, packed, and we looked up where the stop was and one minute after arriving the bus came. Perhaps this may have been a somewhat stressful situation but I was not exactly in the most sober state of mind. Cheap date? No, embarrassing. It was two beers for goodness sake.
I passed out on the bus and woke up when we were parked at the airport. I stumbled off, and having never changed my watch I thought it was an hour ahead. I ran inside, checked-in, and got stopped at security. Maybe I would have been embarrassed of the entire contents of my bag being spread out over a giant table, but at the moment I was moreso feeling entertained. Also, even the English security man was kind - asking me about how my trip was, what I did, if I'd like to come back. God bless him. So then I ran to the gate - the 3rd from last in the entire airport and it was deserted. I handed the man my boarding pass apologizing and he said, "Oh sweetie, you're plenty early. You've got a whole hour." I laughed, sat down in front of the desk, and passed out again. I woke when he announced, basically to me since I was alone at the gate, "Last call, London to Madrid." I jumped up, boarded, and passed out again, impressed by the long-lasting effects of Strongbow. I did not wake up until we were on the ground in Madrid, but I awoke sober and starving.
Marta and I met up at the airport, because she had gone home for the weekend, and we headed home. The rest of Sunday we all just hung out in Resa.
This whole past week was full of studying and paperwork. I applied for an exchange program in England for all of next year, wrote a six page paper on the love, social classes, and structure of the first half of "Don Quijote", and took my finals for History and Art History on Friday. It was a pretty normal week, besides Javier's craziness on Wednesday. He made Evan come into our class and show us the Soulja Boy dance and then had Stacie tell us about her love for Shakira. What he has yet to tell us is about how he's moving to France with his woman, but Mariaje did tell us and we planned a party for him next week. He also asked me how many times I would get married and I said six - 2 in Vegas.
Friday, Jenna and I made all of our train reservations for Spring Break and responded to our CouchSurfing friend, Marc in Zurich, to tell him that we will be able to make it to his End-of-Exams house party.
Today, we did some Spring cleaning, Jenna and I went to breakfast, and now Jenna's boyfriend, Justin, is here! Marta also made her plans to come to the States! So much excitement. Joder.
I arrived on the soil of my ancestors Wednesday night. In Madrid I met a girl, Axxel, world traveler from France, and a guy, Alvaro, from Marbella, Spain, but student of English schools since age 5 - quite deceiving. Well, the three of us were peas in a pod and talked the entire flight, exchanged info., and will probably take family vacations together one day.
When we landed I took the train with Alvaro and his girlfriend to London and then Claire and Caroline were waiting for me at the Tube stop. And it began.
Their flat is located in between the Sherlock Holmes Museum, where sometimes a customer may climb out of the kitchen window into their courtyard outside of their bedrooms, and the Volunteer, a pub/restaurant. We went to the Volunteer and ordered strawberry beer and nachos. Welcome to London - the land of better food.
Thursday the girls had class so I walked one block from their school to the British Museum. With no security, I thought I came in some secret entrance, but when I saw everyone taking pictures and hugging Egyptian ruins I realized that there was a tad more freedom here than in all other museums I have visited. I saw the Rosetta Stone and translated it twice for practice. Alright, I just thought about how cool it would've been if I just pretended to start reading it.
Sometime into my Museum excursion I was pondering a helmet for about three seconds when a 30-some-year-old man named Kyle came and started talking to me by looking at the helmet and saying, "You like that?" No, Kyle, I'm not actually a big fan of ancient headgear. But really I said, "This? Oh yeah." At the beginning of the conversation, he was from Egypt, and by the end he was from Ohio. He encouraged me to check out Cleveland's night life. It really wasn't odd that he was talking to me since every other person there was either a) on a field trip, b) really old, or c) foreign/non-English Speaking, usually Spanish. However, I decided it was best to inform dear Kyle that we cannot, in fact, be friends, because Michiganders do like people from Ohio.
Kyle- "Oh, that's just silly college rivalry stuff."
Caitlin - "Well, I don't actually think it's silly, because I'm still in college"
Kyle- "It's just with sports though not with all the people from the state. I mean here we're just Americans."
Caitlin- "I'm pretty sure it's with sports and all their fans, and I take it pretty seriously. Maybe if you weren't from Ohio, because there are a lot of Americans in London. Nice to meet you, Kyle, bye."
I saw him once more in the museum and although he really wanted to explore London together I had to sadly inform him that I had other college friends here who were surprising me with a very busy afternoon of adventure and I had no idea where I'd be.
After class, we headed to an Asian restaurant, Wagamama, to go over all that we'd planned to do that day. We did some shopping on Oxford Street and I continued exploring the city while they went to their night class. Caroline, future Top Chef of America, made dinner and then the three of us, Rachel, and Caroline's Turkish boi, Dameer, bounced off to O'Neill's - the best pub in the world.
On the Tube, we found it very amusing to speak about how we on tour with Wicked, or in a band called Metallic Ice, or how Eminem is my cousin. Or sometimes, while waiting for the trian, we'd just sing. I'm not sure how this started, but it made our experiences with public transportation rather exciting.
Then. On the walk to O'Neill's from the Tube stop - in some completely random place in London - I hear my name. I turn. Who is there, but my bosom buddy, Kyle. How do these things happen to me? We enjoyed one more amicable conversation and Claire, Caroline, and I decided that he would probably follow us for the rest of the weekend. If he did, he did not reveal himself again, but we probably would not have been surprised if he popped up at the oh -so-popular-and-famous Home of Holmes.
O'Neill's was glorious. I met my future husband, Conrad, the bouncer from South Africa. I met "my cousin", John, who works for Apple, some Italian boys from Rome - one who's teeth were especially white, Simon from New Zealand who was very friendly, 2 boys whom I gave "Eminem's cell phone number", and on the bus, 2 Kenyan men - one living in Norway and the other in London. Pretty much, I decided that English people are the kindest, most polite people in the world. And I love it.
Friday, we slept in a bit after our long adventure the night before. Then Caroline made breakfast and by the time I went outside it was London's rush hour. Caroline, Claire, Rachel, and I went to the London Eye, watched a romantic sunset over Big Ben and Buckingham Palace, and then headed to an Italian restaurant for dinner. When we left, we were nearly trampled by about 200 rioting, screaming teens. I asked a police officer what was going on and he replied, "Well, this may be rude of me to say, but I believe some teens organized a sort of chaotic event on Facebook."
Next, we went to a precious little pub to watch their friend, MJG, sing and play the guitar. He put on a great performance, and then it turned out that the guy I was sitting next to and chatting with was up next with his band. A true English band - they brought imo and rock and roll together with a perfect mix of tambourine, shouting, and acoustic melodies.
Saturday, we headed to Brighton - the seaside city known as a weekend getaway for affairs. We played MASH on the train - and great news! I'm marrying Prince Harry, but the adjective to describe him is dead. However, we did have 3 children, and at least he's not "lacking" like Claire's future husband. Caroline seems to be the lucky one - marrying Smeagol from Tesco (like 7/11), who, most likely by means of plastic surgery, is devastatingly handsome.
We ate the traditional English breakfast/feast when we arrived of toast, eggs, hash browns, veggie sausage, beans, and tomatoes. The unique shops lined the colorful streets and we decided it'd be best if we took "Top Model" shots when we felt especially inspired, such as in front of giant murals of graffiti. Also, the store names were rather entertaining. Our favorite was probably the historic Corn Exchange. Too bad we forgot to bring some.
Soon we found ourselves at a Palace. We were actually in the perfectly trimmed backyard of a palace, but eventually we found the front door. After pretending to debate whether or not we wanted to buy the guide with beautiful pictures of all the rooms inside to use on the tour inside, we decided to skip that little six euro excursion and headed to the beach. On the way we stopped into an art museum.
The Brighton Pier is an enchanting new world for those under ten, trippy for those rebellious English teens, a cheesy date for young lovers, and a casino for the elderly who like to race against five-year-old children dressed as Spiderman and beat them even though they could have won a giant 5-foot long shark stuffed-animal. For everyone else, the Pier is just kind of another creepy carnival. It was great.
The sun peeking through the clouds inspired us to try out the English Channel. When we entered the more-freezing-cold-than-ice water, a wave came, and we may have experienced symptoms of hypothermia in our legs. We laid down on the seashell pebbled beach to recover. We took a lot of awkward pictures where at least one of us had a double chin each time - but not on purpose. Then found a mall and after a long search, an Asian restaurant that didn't open for 10 minutes.
After dinner we went into a couple pubs and watched all the people watching an England v. Ireland rugby game yell and shout. It was the bullocks.
To end our lovely day trip we went to a cafe for a typical English dessert. The Irish waitress was super-super-nice and brought up the chef's recipe book from the kitchen for us to copy the recipe. Needless to say, I love England.
The day did not exhaust us enough to not celebrate our last evening at O'Neill's, of course. Conrad picked us up and spun us around and the night commenced. First, we met a ScoIrish guy, Chris, who lost a bet and had to wear a 10pound outfit from a thrift store. His red leather vest and flower blouse, I thought, brought out his eyes. Another Irish guy, after requesting us to rap, went off in a tizzy - most likely overwhelmed by our greatness. My "2nd cousin" was not so convinced of our blood relation and I ended our potentially life-long friendship running away saying, "I don't believe in incest." The dance floor was, as always, wonderfully crazy. We met a group of guys in the English Army, and Dan and I especially got along. Yet, after two Strongbows and however many his military kidneys can handle, we seemed to forget the whole exchange of last names, phone numbers, e-mails, etc. After a bit more dancing we decided to explore the first floor, where I met a 25-year-old French man named Stan who's opening a hospital in London. We hit it off and I even remembered my phone number when he asked so we could be bff's, but I also did not meet him outside for a smoke like I said I would, and thus, have only myself to blame for letting the relationship crumble. A close to teary goodbye with Conrad ended the O'Neill's outing and we hopped on the bus home. I spoke with a nice English gentleman accountant on the ride home.
We arrived to the flat at about 4am and as we enjoyed our Magnum ice cream - it's just delicious ice cream, it has no relation to other companies named Magnum - and then we realized that my bus for the airport would leave in an hour. I jumped in the shower, packed, and we looked up where the stop was and one minute after arriving the bus came. Perhaps this may have been a somewhat stressful situation but I was not exactly in the most sober state of mind. Cheap date? No, embarrassing. It was two beers for goodness sake.
I passed out on the bus and woke up when we were parked at the airport. I stumbled off, and having never changed my watch I thought it was an hour ahead. I ran inside, checked-in, and got stopped at security. Maybe I would have been embarrassed of the entire contents of my bag being spread out over a giant table, but at the moment I was moreso feeling entertained. Also, even the English security man was kind - asking me about how my trip was, what I did, if I'd like to come back. God bless him. So then I ran to the gate - the 3rd from last in the entire airport and it was deserted. I handed the man my boarding pass apologizing and he said, "Oh sweetie, you're plenty early. You've got a whole hour." I laughed, sat down in front of the desk, and passed out again. I woke when he announced, basically to me since I was alone at the gate, "Last call, London to Madrid." I jumped up, boarded, and passed out again, impressed by the long-lasting effects of Strongbow. I did not wake up until we were on the ground in Madrid, but I awoke sober and starving.
Marta and I met up at the airport, because she had gone home for the weekend, and we headed home. The rest of Sunday we all just hung out in Resa.
This whole past week was full of studying and paperwork. I applied for an exchange program in England for all of next year, wrote a six page paper on the love, social classes, and structure of the first half of "Don Quijote", and took my finals for History and Art History on Friday. It was a pretty normal week, besides Javier's craziness on Wednesday. He made Evan come into our class and show us the Soulja Boy dance and then had Stacie tell us about her love for Shakira. What he has yet to tell us is about how he's moving to France with his woman, but Mariaje did tell us and we planned a party for him next week. He also asked me how many times I would get married and I said six - 2 in Vegas.
Friday, Jenna and I made all of our train reservations for Spring Break and responded to our CouchSurfing friend, Marc in Zurich, to tell him that we will be able to make it to his End-of-Exams house party.
Today, we did some Spring cleaning, Jenna and I went to breakfast, and now Jenna's boyfriend, Justin, is here! Marta also made her plans to come to the States! So much excitement. Joder.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
My child?
Chelsea pretending to be a pirate. Pretty.
Being Studious at our Retiro Picnic
Jonatan, Soraya, and me at Laurel's 21st Celebration
I kept running into this girl, so we took a picture.
Portugal & Spain in the distance
Atlantic Ocean
Park in Santiago d.C.
Marta!
Cathedral of Santiago de CompostelaGood Thing I'm in Spain - It's the only thing that makes these posts somewhat cool
Friday night -
Laurel and I successfully made tortilla espanola. What. Up. I had a lovely night on the town at Gabanna Bar and then CanCan with my sweet Americans and also my cheery Spaniards. Marco, an Italian bartender at GB, gave me a free bottle of water. So kind. I came home around 4a.m. and then hung out downstairs with the security lady, Marialuisa, and the other Spaniards. My friend Alberto won't admit it, but he should probably pursue dancing if medicine doesn't work out.
Saturday -
I slept in, and then Laurel, Jenna, Pablo, and I went to el Retiro for a very American picnic. We packed PB&J, fruit, and popcorn. Then I read a couple chapters of Don Quijote and soaked up some Vitamin D. It was quite rejuvinating. On the way home Pablo and I tried to buy "neon chino" fish, but they require warmer water than we can provide. We were going to name one "Ylos" and the other "Chinos," in honor of our favorite racist comment said by all our professors, "Y los Chinos?" (It is said when asking any Asian, whether s/he be Taiwanese, Japanese, Korean, or Chinese about some cultural aspect - it means "And the Chinese?") When we got home we ordered pizza and Marta, Alberto, Laurel, Jenna, Marialuisa, Pablo, and I watched Soraya win the semi-finals of the competition to win Spain's spot in Eurovision, which is kind of like American Idol. We laughed, we cried, we shouted in Spanish. I stayed up really late talking with Marta, Alberto, and Marialuisa. And by talking, I mean mostly, such as 99%, listening, but my Spanish ability has hence improved.
Sunday -
I slept in again. Then I stayed in my pajamas all day - but I like to say I just got ready for bed super early. Nonetheless, it was a fairly productive day of writing more postcards that I hope to send one day, coloring with my new crayons, inventing a way to send notes to Laurel and Jenna in the room below us using a sheet out our window, and thinking a lot about doing homework and even doing some. I also talked with the fam for a long time - holla!
Monday -
Typical day at Alcalinguay, which is the name I made for my school, Alcalingua since 'guay' means 'cool'. Javier, my grammar teacher, was distracted by some random question we asked, Mariaje, my conversation teacher, made at least 2 comments generalizing and stereotyping all Asians, and Angelica, my literature teacher, talked to us as if we've taken 1 semester of Spanish moving her arms like the macarena. Then Don Quijote class was a real thrill... :) To lift our spirits we sang very loudly to Disney songs - Marta in Spanish and us in English. Did we discover the best way ever to teach kids other languages? Perhaps.
Tuesday -
We convinced Javi to let us have class in the second floor of Starbucks. It was the start to a beautiful day. I bought candy almonds from the nuns during the break. After class, Vanessa, Katie, Barbara and I went to TGIFs. Good idea - understatement. This thought was brilliant. After our delicious, familiar food without any ham - hooray! - we celebrated more by going to this small, American store called "Taste of America." It's filled with $10 boxes of Quaker oatmeal, $7 Pop Tarts, and $6 mini-jars of JIF peanut butter. However, 4 frozen bagels for 2 Euro is quite a bargain, I'd say. The 3 Euro box of brownie mix that I plan to eat raw may, however, not have been the greatest idea nor deal of the day. Yet, I plan on remaining optimistic.
Laurel and I successfully made tortilla espanola. What. Up. I had a lovely night on the town at Gabanna Bar and then CanCan with my sweet Americans and also my cheery Spaniards. Marco, an Italian bartender at GB, gave me a free bottle of water. So kind. I came home around 4a.m. and then hung out downstairs with the security lady, Marialuisa, and the other Spaniards. My friend Alberto won't admit it, but he should probably pursue dancing if medicine doesn't work out.
Saturday -
I slept in, and then Laurel, Jenna, Pablo, and I went to el Retiro for a very American picnic. We packed PB&J, fruit, and popcorn. Then I read a couple chapters of Don Quijote and soaked up some Vitamin D. It was quite rejuvinating. On the way home Pablo and I tried to buy "neon chino" fish, but they require warmer water than we can provide. We were going to name one "Ylos" and the other "Chinos," in honor of our favorite racist comment said by all our professors, "Y los Chinos?" (It is said when asking any Asian, whether s/he be Taiwanese, Japanese, Korean, or Chinese about some cultural aspect - it means "And the Chinese?") When we got home we ordered pizza and Marta, Alberto, Laurel, Jenna, Marialuisa, Pablo, and I watched Soraya win the semi-finals of the competition to win Spain's spot in Eurovision, which is kind of like American Idol. We laughed, we cried, we shouted in Spanish. I stayed up really late talking with Marta, Alberto, and Marialuisa. And by talking, I mean mostly, such as 99%, listening, but my Spanish ability has hence improved.
Sunday -
I slept in again. Then I stayed in my pajamas all day - but I like to say I just got ready for bed super early. Nonetheless, it was a fairly productive day of writing more postcards that I hope to send one day, coloring with my new crayons, inventing a way to send notes to Laurel and Jenna in the room below us using a sheet out our window, and thinking a lot about doing homework and even doing some. I also talked with the fam for a long time - holla!
Monday -
Typical day at Alcalinguay, which is the name I made for my school, Alcalingua since 'guay' means 'cool'. Javier, my grammar teacher, was distracted by some random question we asked, Mariaje, my conversation teacher, made at least 2 comments generalizing and stereotyping all Asians, and Angelica, my literature teacher, talked to us as if we've taken 1 semester of Spanish moving her arms like the macarena. Then Don Quijote class was a real thrill... :) To lift our spirits we sang very loudly to Disney songs - Marta in Spanish and us in English. Did we discover the best way ever to teach kids other languages? Perhaps.
Tuesday -
We convinced Javi to let us have class in the second floor of Starbucks. It was the start to a beautiful day. I bought candy almonds from the nuns during the break. After class, Vanessa, Katie, Barbara and I went to TGIFs. Good idea - understatement. This thought was brilliant. After our delicious, familiar food without any ham - hooray! - we celebrated more by going to this small, American store called "Taste of America." It's filled with $10 boxes of Quaker oatmeal, $7 Pop Tarts, and $6 mini-jars of JIF peanut butter. However, 4 frozen bagels for 2 Euro is quite a bargain, I'd say. The 3 Euro box of brownie mix that I plan to eat raw may, however, not have been the greatest idea nor deal of the day. Yet, I plan on remaining optimistic.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Spanish People Can't Decide If I'm a Blonde or Ginger...Hello, Spain. I am a Brunette.
Javier, my teacher, joked and called me a redhead. Then he stuck out his tongue at me and winked. Awkward.
Other happenings -
-I found my future wedding ring if I get married. It's $200 and the owner of the store became good friends with Laurel, Jenna, and me, because he found it amusing that I said I wanted to find the ring before finding a man to buy it for me.
-There's no hand sanitizer in Spain. Jonatan finds this invention quite miraculous.
-I made tortilla espanola with Laurel. Great success.
-Marta and Alberto went to the store and I sent them with money to get bread to make PB&J for a picnic and they returned with 6 large baguettes.
-I met a Nigerian football player named Idris who is really, really nice. He speaks English and French. When he got off the train he told Marta that I'm beautiful. Not my style, Idris, not my style.
-I helped Jonatan pick out Soraya's Valentine's present and found that this fake holiday can bring a lot of unnecessary stress and pressure and I do not think I will ever celebrate this day of confessing emotions. But she did love his gift.
-My literature teacher called me "la pequena" - WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?
-Jenna bought me a book for Spanish vegetarians! Chang chang!
-I bought crayons. I felt incomplete without them.
-My teachers dressed up for Carnaval and made us take pictures of them. I had some flashbacks to second grade, but then realized that it was not that creepy.
-Horacio is still the best waiter ever.
-I nearly killed myself opening a bottle of champagne. I thought it was wine.
-I am deeply saddened by the recent occurrences involving Chris Brown. I have since ended my relationship with him and have no further comment except to express my disappointment.
Other happenings -
-I found my future wedding ring if I get married. It's $200 and the owner of the store became good friends with Laurel, Jenna, and me, because he found it amusing that I said I wanted to find the ring before finding a man to buy it for me.
-There's no hand sanitizer in Spain. Jonatan finds this invention quite miraculous.
-I made tortilla espanola with Laurel. Great success.
-Marta and Alberto went to the store and I sent them with money to get bread to make PB&J for a picnic and they returned with 6 large baguettes.
-I met a Nigerian football player named Idris who is really, really nice. He speaks English and French. When he got off the train he told Marta that I'm beautiful. Not my style, Idris, not my style.
-I helped Jonatan pick out Soraya's Valentine's present and found that this fake holiday can bring a lot of unnecessary stress and pressure and I do not think I will ever celebrate this day of confessing emotions. But she did love his gift.
-My literature teacher called me "la pequena" - WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?
-Jenna bought me a book for Spanish vegetarians! Chang chang!
-I bought crayons. I felt incomplete without them.
-My teachers dressed up for Carnaval and made us take pictures of them. I had some flashbacks to second grade, but then realized that it was not that creepy.
-Horacio is still the best waiter ever.
-I nearly killed myself opening a bottle of champagne. I thought it was wine.
-I am deeply saddened by the recent occurrences involving Chris Brown. I have since ended my relationship with him and have no further comment except to express my disappointment.
Chelsea's Visit
When Chelsea came we ate tapas, went to el Rastro, el Prado, and el Retiro, and she took pictures while I went to church. We went to the mercadillo in Alcala, and walked around the city. On Laurel's birthday we went out to dinner with Jonatan, Soraya, Pablo, Jenna, Sarah, and, of course, Laurel, to a precious Italian restaurant. We had a lot of fun. Tuesday we went to El Escorial and then into Madrid. I went to a comedy show for class, while she explored Gran Via - the Michigan Ave. of Madrid. Chel made everyone dinner on Wednesday. We couldn't hold back the lil chef in her. We had a blast together and the time flew by. She also did a very good job buying things with her limited vocabulary/functional accent. It was quite impressive. David said Chelsea is a fierce sexy diva bitch and I don't think anyone has every described her so perfectly before. Now, I miss her.
My Future Summer Home
First, I know I haven't blogged in 2 weeks, but the internet has been moving like a sloth and it just hasn't worked out. So here I will begin my 2 week catch-up.
I went to visit Marta 2 weekends ago. It was absolutely perfect. I arrived in Santiago de Compostela. We walked around and I saw the breath-taking cathedral and the University, where I am most certain Harry Potter was lurking. I met Marta's boyfriend, Vichy, who is quite the catch. Marta, her friend, Iria, and me went out to for the typical Spanish feast of a lunch. We caught the train to Pontevedra, Marta's hometown, after a quick walk in the park.
Pontevedra is the best place in the world, I think. The region is like the Seattle of America. Everything was green, the roads are all cobbled, and as you wind through ancient Roman ruins, wrought-iron balconied homes, and small shop with smiling owners in the windows you find yourself in mini-plazas with children playing football around fountains of Spanish heroes. It was surreal. The people speak Gallego and Spanish, and they actually smile at you.
Marta's family is officially my Spanish family. Her mom made some of the best food I've ever eaten, her dad insisted on taking tons of pictures of Marta and me and taking me to Portugal for lunch, and her 18-year-old sister, Carmen, told me about the drama in her life while we watched a movie and then I braided her hair before she went out with friends. Marta showed me lots of family pictures and we talked about Spanish weddings, Obama, differences between Spain and the U.S., goals, and funny childhood memories. Saturday, we went to the Atlantic coast less than 20 minutes away to take pictures, and then drove another 30ish minutes to Portugal. The winding roads through hills that could be mistaken as mountains showed the forest landscape on one side and the beach on the other. In Portugal, we could see Spain on the other side of the river. We went to a small outdoor market and then had the "typical Portuguese lunch," which was a 9x13 pan of rice, veggies, and seafood for one person - and that was after soup and bread.
When we got back to Pontevedra, Marta showed me around the town some more. I found where I will one day live in order to be neighbors with Marta After walking through the "old part," we met Vichy for ice cream in the "new part," which had tons of stores, restaurants, and business buildings, and could have been a whole other town on its own. I learned how to make tortilla espanola from Marta's mom, talked to Marta's grandma on the phone, and Marta and I stayed up talking for a really long time.
When I left in the morning I gave 2 mugs in a tin can as a 'thank-you' and Marta's mom cried. Then Carmen cried when I said good-bye. And it was all just a big mess of tears. Marta's dad said I can come back whenever I want and for as long as I want -even forever. I said maybe, but if not I'll at least be back every summer as soon as I become financially stable. :)
I also saw Manuel Lozano, a famous actor about my age - (he played Moncho in La Lengua de Las Mariposas when he was about 6) at the University of Santiago d.C. He took his sweatshirt off and his shirt came with it and Marta and I gave each other a look saying, "How scandalous!" Then she realized who it was and we decided to let it slide.
I went to visit Marta 2 weekends ago. It was absolutely perfect. I arrived in Santiago de Compostela. We walked around and I saw the breath-taking cathedral and the University, where I am most certain Harry Potter was lurking. I met Marta's boyfriend, Vichy, who is quite the catch. Marta, her friend, Iria, and me went out to for the typical Spanish feast of a lunch. We caught the train to Pontevedra, Marta's hometown, after a quick walk in the park.
Pontevedra is the best place in the world, I think. The region is like the Seattle of America. Everything was green, the roads are all cobbled, and as you wind through ancient Roman ruins, wrought-iron balconied homes, and small shop with smiling owners in the windows you find yourself in mini-plazas with children playing football around fountains of Spanish heroes. It was surreal. The people speak Gallego and Spanish, and they actually smile at you.
Marta's family is officially my Spanish family. Her mom made some of the best food I've ever eaten, her dad insisted on taking tons of pictures of Marta and me and taking me to Portugal for lunch, and her 18-year-old sister, Carmen, told me about the drama in her life while we watched a movie and then I braided her hair before she went out with friends. Marta showed me lots of family pictures and we talked about Spanish weddings, Obama, differences between Spain and the U.S., goals, and funny childhood memories. Saturday, we went to the Atlantic coast less than 20 minutes away to take pictures, and then drove another 30ish minutes to Portugal. The winding roads through hills that could be mistaken as mountains showed the forest landscape on one side and the beach on the other. In Portugal, we could see Spain on the other side of the river. We went to a small outdoor market and then had the "typical Portuguese lunch," which was a 9x13 pan of rice, veggies, and seafood for one person - and that was after soup and bread.
When we got back to Pontevedra, Marta showed me around the town some more. I found where I will one day live in order to be neighbors with Marta After walking through the "old part," we met Vichy for ice cream in the "new part," which had tons of stores, restaurants, and business buildings, and could have been a whole other town on its own. I learned how to make tortilla espanola from Marta's mom, talked to Marta's grandma on the phone, and Marta and I stayed up talking for a really long time.
When I left in the morning I gave 2 mugs in a tin can as a 'thank-you' and Marta's mom cried. Then Carmen cried when I said good-bye. And it was all just a big mess of tears. Marta's dad said I can come back whenever I want and for as long as I want -even forever. I said maybe, but if not I'll at least be back every summer as soon as I become financially stable. :)
I also saw Manuel Lozano, a famous actor about my age - (he played Moncho in La Lengua de Las Mariposas when he was about 6) at the University of Santiago d.C. He took his sweatshirt off and his shirt came with it and Marta and I gave each other a look saying, "How scandalous!" Then she realized who it was and we decided to let it slide.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
My RealMadrid Football Player Boyfriend and I Have a Son
They take their graffiti seriously in Granada
My future Mini/motorcycle/apt. in Madcity
Alhambra
Emily and me and a fountain in MadrithhhAlright, here's the beat down low -
Sunday, the Marylanders went to Palacio Real. It was the Royal Palace until the 1930's and it still is now, but the King and Queen reside outside the city now. My guess is because they can make enough money giving tours of their Palace to live comfortably off of the earnings on a couple acres of land perfect for sipping cafe con leche and eating breakfast cookies everyday on their patio that overlooks rolling hills filled with wild horses. Then they have parties in their Palacio. It was incredibly intricate and sophisticated - it gave me a new perspective as to what "rich" actually meant. Their people lived in poverty while they drank from goblets worth hundreds of thousands of euro a piece. It kind of pissed me off. History makes me emotional.
Monday was a long day of class. Also, Jenna looked at weather.com and figured out why the forecast for the next 2 weeks is rain. There is a giant black cloud over all of Europe. Mary had a layover and stopped by to tell us how she and her boyfriend were held at mini-machete-point in Morocco all because they were fighting about pizza. Note taken - pizza is not to be fought over in foreign countries as it may lead to a vulnerable situation at which point men will attack.
Tuesday morning Jenna, Mary, and I went to breakfast. Then in Grammar we managed to distract Javier enough to delve into Spanish culture instead of teaching us prepositions, which was delightful. After class, Jonatan, Soraya, and I went to the cafe we call 'the secret garden,' because it's just wonderful. We know it's dirty - people can smoke in the room the size of a small walk-in closet, used napkins belong on the floor, and the slot machine in the corner creates such a soothing ambience - but the service is the best we've received and I have a huge crush on Horacio, the waiter, who I found out is 29. This is the second 29-year-old I thought was 24ish and may have hit on slightly.
It was Pablo's 19th birthday! We had a mini-fiesta in our room. Then I decided to do all of my cinema homework in one night and stayed up until 4a.m. working on it. Well, I finished at 3:30a.m., but couldn't sleep, because the last critique I wrote was about a horror film we watched. I'm just glad I understood less than half of what was said in the movie. Then I realized that I know how to translate "Why so serious?" and should NOT watch 'The Dark Knight' in Spanish.
Wednesday, the most exciting part of my day was taking a nap in Starbucks. Amanda graciously offered her protection over me while she read. The second most exciting part was when we again distracted Javier and talked about the normal age to bare children here. Having gotten little sleep the night before I blurted out how I felt very old in Mexico, because all the girls my age had 3, sometimes 4, children, but I only have one. Spanish people do not understand sarcasm, and I quickly added "Chiste!" (Joke) at the end. Then he laughed. Thursday, I told him my boyfriend plays for Real Madrid. He picked up on the joke much faster this time. A couple minutes later he informed me that he worked at a hair salon as a barber before becoming a professor. Hence we have begun a war of sarcastic lies. Thank goodness, because the difference between 'por' and 'para' was getting a little bit boring.
Today we went to the market. There was more meat there than in the entire city of Detroit and perhaps the Metro area, as well. I did not like it.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Try to Catch Me Ridin Dirty
Wednesday we had our last lunch with Mary Mary Quite Contrary. :( We returned to Burrito, a wannabe Mexican restaurant that fails terribly by putting ham on everything as is the Spanish way. However, with our charming Dominican Republican waiter, Jose, the food was not exactly our motive. Goncalo came over and hung out for a bit. Thursday was a lovely day of planning Spring Break. I've been spending a considerable amount of time figuring out train travel time between cities in Europe that, no, I'm not going to visit, but, yes, the question may be on Jeopardy one day. I also waste my time away reading profiles on CouchSurfing and weeding out the weirdos has become more of a hobby than a chore. Marta has joined me in this weird obsession. I also had a mini-interview-meet-and-greet-something-or-other-thing with the Volunteer Office to start the intern process. Hopefully, I will be teaching English to impoverished children outside of Alcala. Myrien, the interviewer, could not have been kinder, too. Another kind encounter I had was with a 12ish year old girl on the Plaza de Cervantes. It was Peace/Stop Domestic Violence Day and this girl walked all the way across the Plaza to give me a a ribbon bracelet to wear saying, "RECHAZA LA VIOLENCIA, ACEPTA LA IGUALDAD." (Reject the Violence, Accept the Equality) It made my day and her effort and amicability is admirable. That night, Evan and a Korean girl from my class, Young, and I made our usual trek for free sangria at Gabana Bar. Goncalo met us there for a hot minute. When I got home Alberto and Marta were still up so we talked about stereotypes the Spanish have for a little bit and then went to bed.
Friday, I believe one of the coolest moments of my life happened. After class, Laurel, Jonatan, and I went out for a beer/coffee. We chatted about broken bones, hospital visits, and the Swedish lifestyle. Then he offered to drive us home. We gratefully accepted his offer and after saying a quick 'hi' to Horacio, my favorite waiter ever, and asking him about handball in Romania, we jumped into a sleek hypbrid Lexus RX400 with TV screens on the backs of the seats for Laurel to enjoy and a navigation/music system in Swedish for me to enjoy. It's actually Soraya's, but she doesn't drive so it's basically Jonatan's. We drove home in a celebrity's car through the old roads of Alcala rocking out to old Swedish music and then a bit of Eminem. I really don't understand my luck sometimes. Jonatan hung out with us for awhile - he had never seen dorms before, because Sweden "doesn't do that." Before he left we decided to have a potluck soon.
At night we made our way to Chueca, the gay/club-especially-gay-clubs area of Madrid. Laurel and I found a delicious bocadelleria (sandwich) place. My friend, Scott, who I went on ASB with, was in Madrid from Barcelona for the weekend and we met up with him before Sarah, Laurel, and I took a bus back home. We stopped in to Can Can for a couple minutes where a Brazilian boy graciously showed us how to do the can-can. A bit odd, but I believe he had good intentions.
Today was more Spring Break planning and Jenna, Laurel, and I got some sort of coffee beverage from a swanky tea and cafe place we hadn't tried yet. We met some Americans there. One of them knew of a good church, which was good news bears. The whole experience was top notch.
Friday, I believe one of the coolest moments of my life happened. After class, Laurel, Jonatan, and I went out for a beer/coffee. We chatted about broken bones, hospital visits, and the Swedish lifestyle. Then he offered to drive us home. We gratefully accepted his offer and after saying a quick 'hi' to Horacio, my favorite waiter ever, and asking him about handball in Romania, we jumped into a sleek hypbrid Lexus RX400 with TV screens on the backs of the seats for Laurel to enjoy and a navigation/music system in Swedish for me to enjoy. It's actually Soraya's, but she doesn't drive so it's basically Jonatan's. We drove home in a celebrity's car through the old roads of Alcala rocking out to old Swedish music and then a bit of Eminem. I really don't understand my luck sometimes. Jonatan hung out with us for awhile - he had never seen dorms before, because Sweden "doesn't do that." Before he left we decided to have a potluck soon.
At night we made our way to Chueca, the gay/club-especially-gay-clubs area of Madrid. Laurel and I found a delicious bocadelleria (sandwich) place. My friend, Scott, who I went on ASB with, was in Madrid from Barcelona for the weekend and we met up with him before Sarah, Laurel, and I took a bus back home. We stopped in to Can Can for a couple minutes where a Brazilian boy graciously showed us how to do the can-can. A bit odd, but I believe he had good intentions.
Today was more Spring Break planning and Jenna, Laurel, and I got some sort of coffee beverage from a swanky tea and cafe place we hadn't tried yet. We met some Americans there. One of them knew of a good church, which was good news bears. The whole experience was top notch.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Granada :) from the Alhambra
Alhambra and Making Fun of America and France at the SAME TIME!! Clever Spaniards
All are from the Alhambra except the Statue of Liberty ad - that's in Madrid.
Nada de Granada- pero en realidad si.
Far left is the view of Granada from Cadiz. Next is inside the Alhambra. To the left is us with Yenna! to the right is in Granada. The bottom is of the cathedral in Granada.
Que guay!
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