Professional Vagabonds

5.13.11 Welcome to Granada

2011-06-19T00:47:00.000-07:00

A few pics (only 50 today)

On Friday people started waking up incredibly early and weren’t making any great effort to be quiet about it. Two new girls had charged in like they owned the place at 1 in the morning, waking everyone up, and then charged out again at 7. Two other girls had come in at midnight, although much more quietly, but they were packed up and gone by 8 as well. It turns out that out of the 14 beds, only 1 person would be staying that night.

We planned to walk over to the bus station and find a bus to Granada. After showering and packing and breakfast and checking out and the walk, it was after 11 when we arrived at the bus station and so we bought tickets for the 12:00 bus. We asked a woman in Spanish what time the bus would arrive in Granada, and she answered us in Spanish. I should have caught the “a las tres”, but her sentence was long and my brain didn’t interpret it, so we stared at her blankly and she switched to English. It would be a 3 hour bus ride.

We’re getting good at tossing our bags under the bus, finding our seats, working on our laptops for a while, and then napping and/or listening to music. When we pulled into the Granada station, we loaded ourselves up like pack mules and found the correct bus stop without having to ask for directions (go us!). The bus let us off near the Alhambra, and then we were supposed to take a second bus to our hostel. It didn’t seem that much farter though, and not worth an additional $2, so we set off in the direction of our place. We were only staying there one night - we had booked late and since it was a Friday, all the better hostels were full already.

The walk towards the Alhambra was slightly uphill, and we soon came to the entrance of the park where it was located. The road took a turn for the seriously steep. We actually had two choices: the road, which wound up the hill, or the “pedestrian path”, which cut unabashedly straight up the hill. We chose the road. After about 20 minutes of huffing and puffing, I made Tricia sit with me on a park bench, and we ate apples leftover from a shopping trip in Seville. And then I drank all my water. And then we continued - onward and upward!

Finally, we arrived at the entrance to the Alhambra, and the hostel directly across the street. We walked in the door, and there were already about 8 people waiting at reception, but the receptionist was no where to be found. Six people were Spanish, and they take this sort of thing much more in stride than much of the rest of the world. They were lounging around on their bags and talking. There were two women who spoke French (I somehow got the impression that they were Dutch, but I may be crazy) pacing around annoyedly. I also do not have a whole lot of patience for this sort of thing.

Let me here explain the lobby to you: It looked sort of like an abandoned cafeteria or schoolroom. There were warming trays pushed to one side, as if they had once served food there. There was a foozball table that dipped in the middle like someone had sat on it and looked as if it hadn’t been played in years. There were a bunch of tables set up and strewn with school papers. A little blond boy about 9 years old was sitting at one doing homework. There were no overhead lights. There was a tiny little desk - the type you stand behind, like a hostess at a restaurant - with a desk lamp clipped to it.

Ten minutes or so later, the receptionist finished walking her dog and came in. The dog sniffed around my backpack which I had tossed off in the lobby while the receptionist started with the Spanish crowd. They didn’t give her a hard time, although they took a while as there were a lot of them. The receptionist pulled out a giant pill bottle (like for vitamins) and opened it. It was full of bills and change - this was the cash register.

The French/Dutch ladies were up next. They were not thrilled about the whole situation. They had seen one of the rooms, and were apparently refusing to stay. The receptionist, for her part, was refusing to let them cancel less than 48 hours in advance. So, they ended up staying 2 nights and cancelling the rest of their stay. This conversation was a mix of French and English, and took quite a while.

Let me now interject something else - this hostel has the worst reviews ever. It’s only saving grace is it’s good location, which I actually don’t think is that good since it’s at the top of a freaking mountain. I’d rather leave my stuff at the bottom of the mountain and hike to the top of the mountain with nothing on my back. But I digress - the two women should not have been expecting, well, anything but clean sheets and hot water. Which is basically what we got.

I think our turn went fairly quickly - we had our receipt for the reservation, paid the lady, asked if she had a map, was told she didn’t, asked if the pool was open (okay, it had 2 saving graces), was told it wasn’t (so much for that one), and we went up to our room. It had a bunk bed, a sink, and a bathroom. Here’s how you should picture the bathroom: take a bathroom stall from McDonalds. Shrink it down a bit. Turn the toilet sideways. Add a shower. Seriously. If you sat all the way back on the toilet, the door would just barely close touching your knees (although it didn’t close all the way, so you had to be careful not to bump it or the door would open giving your roommate a free show). The shower was miniscule, and if you raised your arms to wash your hair, one elbow hit the wall and one went out the shower curtain. If you turned a little, your elbow would run into the faucet handle.

Luckily, we take these things in stride. We decided to walk down the mountain and look for some food. We accidentally ended up on the nearly-vertical pedestrian path, and had to inch our way down. Near the bottom, I came up with the most brilliant-beyond-brilliant idea. When we got off the city bus, it was right near our second hostel. We should have gone in, left our bags, and hiked up with just our day-packs. Completely, absolutely, amazingly brilliant! Too bad I had it 2 hours too late.

Down in the city, we saw a Kebab place that advertised free Crepes if you spent 3 Euros, so we went in and sat down and asked if we could split a meal that included a Kebab pita sandwich, fries, and a drink. And the Crepe? Turns out you only get that if you order 3 Euros worth of tea. This took us a while to get: in Spanish, it’s pronounced TAY, which is how the owner pronounced it even though we were speaking English, so this was hard for our brains to translate. However, we quite enjoyed our Orange Fanta, fries, and yummy yummy sandwich, even though we didn’t get a free Crepe.

We wandered around the city a bit longer, but in the end decided to return up the mountain (we didn’t want to be climbing in the dark) and go back to our tiny tiny room. We needed to get up at 6:30 in the morning to get in line at the Alhambra to get tickets. They sell most tickets to tour groups online, and you can’t buy tickets in advance at the door (as we learned when we stopped by before returning to our hostel). So every morning they have only a limited amount of tickets left, and they go to the people who line up at 7 to wait for the ticket office to open at 8. So that was our plan. We also stopped at a grocery store to pick up breakfast and lunch - pastries, apples, and nuts to tide us over for the day. And then we curled up in our little bunk beds and went to sleep.

5.12.11 - Seville

2011-06-18T11:45:00.000-07:00

Here are lots more pics

We had decided to go to the Cathedral instead of the alcazar in Seville, but it didn’t open until 11, so we weren’t in any big hurry on Thursday. The room was much quieter than on Wednesday, and even the noise from the kitchen drifting through the open window seemed more subdued. So we were able to sleep a bit later. We had our usual toast with Nutella, cereal, and strong coffee with milk, sugar, and cocoa mix. At Tricia’s recommendation, I mixed chocolate flakes, corn flakes, and granola with dried fruit together in one bowl. I wouldn’t exactly call it good, but it was certainly an improvement over taking any of them separately.

10% of CC's body

Around 11 we walked over to the Cathedral (which is the largest gothic building in Europe and the largest cathedral in Spain) and joined the long line that had formed. We weren’t entirely sure why people had gotten there before 11 and formed a line, but we waited in it anyway, as it was moving now that the Cathedral was open. I found the architecture very beautiful, with white columns and archways and carvings. There were museums of gold rosaries, goblets, and plates used for the wafers, as well as the usual floor-to-ceiling dioramas. In the front we saw the casket holding (at least 10% of) Christopher Columbus’ body.

After we’d seen everything in the Cathedral, we climbed up to the bell tower. There are 34 ramps that were used by the nobility and by the bell-ringer to ascend the tower. I have to say, they make for a much more pleasant climb than stairs. Up in the tower, we jostled with school groups for a spot at the windows so we could take panoramas of the city. It was a great view of the buildings and windy little streets below (which were purposely made narrow and windy so that air would be cooled in the shade of the buildings and pushed along to the plazas where people gathered). There were tons of bells, and they went off while we were up there, making all the high school kids shriek in surprise.

With admission to the Cathedral, we also got a free ticket to the Iglesia del Salvador. Never ones to pass up free admission, we asked the guard how to get to the church. We listened gravely to his long speech on directions, didn’t understand much of it, nodded, and trotted off confidently in the direction he pointed. We did manage to find the church, which also had a museum inside. It included a “Suit of the baby Jesus of the Virgin”.

Afterwards, we needed to eat, so we stopped back at the Bar Duque where the waiter was friendly and the food was good. And the menu was in English. So sue us. We ordered Peppers, Russian Salad, and a Spicy Sausage of the Highland sandwich. Oh, and two beers. I’ve been having this weird craving for beer, which is quite strange as I’ve never, ever, ever liked beer. I actually hate beer. But I’m really enjoying cheap Spanish beer. And the other tapas were very good as well.

In Bar Duque they sold ham flavored potato chips, but we couldn’t get a good picture of them since they were above the bar, so we trotted off to find a store that sold the chips so we could take a picture. At first Tricia thought I was being silly to be so obsessed with ham flavored chips, but she soon got into it and was keeping an eye out for stores as well. In the chip aisle of a little Asian shop (think 7-11, but dingier), it took us a long time to find the ham flavored ones. We quickly snapped a picture, and then slunk out feeling a bit like shoplifters.

We stopped back at our hostel for a little siesta, and then it was off to the Museo de Bellas Artes. It was supposed to be free for Europeans and 1.5 Euros for everyone else. We had our money in hand as we approached the gate, but the curator was chatting with someone and didn’t want to be bothered with us. “Gratis, gratis”: “It’s free, it’s free.” And then he turned back to his friend. We hesitated a second, and then gave up and went in. No sense arguing with the man.

One floor was devoted to Catholic art, where I lamented that the paintings didn’t go in chronological order. Jesus’ birth is right next to his crucifixion; Mary learning to read from Saint Ana is right next to paintings of Mary Magdalene. (If you’re like me and don’t know the dates of stuff, that would be about 8 years before Jesus was born to a few years before he died.) And while I'm on the subject, painters tend to put all the wrong people in all the wrong places. Like, since when was Mary Magdalene at the birth of Jesus? The other floor was a temporary exhibit of Spanish artists who painted Andalucía (that would be Cordoba, Granada, Seville) in various years. We weren’t allowed to take photos in the museum (although I keep saying I’m going to start ignoring that rule because I don’t remember what we’ve looked at).

My finger in the "stuff"

Back at the Oasis, we set up shop on the rooftop terrace. We found an outlet for our computers and brought up our $2.40 wine. I stopped in at the bar of our hostel to ask if they had some alcohol or peroxide for my finger, and the bartender pulled out a brand-new first aid kit that they’d bought the day before. We looked through it together - it was a little on the skimpy side, in spite of the kit itself being huge. There were gauze wraps and a couple of bottles of “stuff” which we broke open. I read the Spanish on one and decided it seemed like the solution should be diluted in water, so I showed the paragraph to the bartender, who agreed and gave me a cup with water and the stuff. And I left my finger in it for 15 to 20 minutes as a certain mother suggested I do. (More than one mother has warned me against blood poisoning, which will travel to your heart and you will die.)

By the way, the wine was God-awful. We managed two little Dixie cups full each before tossing the rest of the bottle and going off to sleep.

5.11.11 - Seville

2011-06-02T06:26:00.000-07:00

Our room (and Tricia sleeping in the top
bunk) and pics

In a room with 14 people, it can be hard to sleep in. This was exacerbated by the fact that the kitchen window and the bathroom window opened onto the tiny patio, which also had a window into our room. And everything was tile. At 8 am, when breakfast started, 4 floors of backpackers descended on the kitchen. It sounded like a mob scene. All 14 of us opened our eyes and stared at the ceiling or at the bunk above our heads. Some people (like Tricia) gave up on sleep and went to join the mob. Others (like me) refused to give in to the noise and covered our heads and pretended we could sleep through the noise. In the room, we quickly realized which people got up early and which stayed in bed - we were all comrades in the battle for sleep.

Oh, and did I mention that there was the window to our room, then directly across the patio was the window to the bathroom? Sometimes it was wide open and the people inside didn’t realize it. Even when it was closed though, it didn’t do much to hide what was going on inside. At one point, a guy and a girl were both in there…..don’t think they realized the show they were putting on. Actually, the bathroom was for people from a couple of bedrooms, but only our room could see directly in. Tricia and I realized this on the very first day while we were doing laundry, so we were very discrete.

Although Tricia had already eaten breakfast by the time I got up, she ate with me again at 9. We had our choice of 3 cereals, all of which were named “Discount Cereal”: chocolate flakes, non-chocolate flakes (like corn flakes), and a granola-with-fruit type of thing. I went with granola, but it was a bad decision. (I later learned there was no good decision with the cereal.) The milk was lukewarm since it is boxed (shelf-stable) and the fridges were all full with the food of 400 backpackers. We also had toast with a generic-Nutella type spread or with various flavors of marmalade. Finally, there was really strong coffee (espresso?). We added sugar, milk, and hot cocoa mix and were good to go.

At 11:15 we wanted to take the walking tour of the city, and joined in with the girls from Canada from the night before. We were extolling the virtues of the Madrid tour, and hoping that the Seville tour would be just as good. When we met our guide, Allie, she told us that it was her very last tour as she was leaving Spain in just a few days.

First up on the tour: we stopped to see the Cathedral and the Alcazar, which were right next to each other. According to the tour guide, the Cathedral is the final resting place of “at least 10%” of Christopher Columbus. I think she liked the Alcazar better, but since it was modeled on the one in Granada, we decided that the Cathedral would be a better use of our money. Allie asked if we could guess how many steps were in the tower of the Cathedral. Since the tower in Boston was only in the 200’s, I was guessing 2-3 hundred for the Cathedral as well. But it was a trick question: they used ramps instead of stairs so the bell-ringer could ride his horse to the top 5 times a day and ring the bell.

Next up comes the strangest story I’ve ever heard. In the 15^th century, the king died in a riding accident, leaving his 11 year old son as next in line. Since he was only 11, the Catholic Church took over for the next few years. They saw an opportunity to put the rich Jews in their place, and organized an attack in which 1000 or so Jews were killed. Seven years later, the Jews were organizing their own revolt against the Catholic Church. The daughter of one of the instigators, Susona, learned of the imminent attack, and was afraid for the lover she was dating in secret - a Catholic soldier. She warned him, and he warned the others, and another group of Jews was killed in the resulting surprise attack, including Susona’s father. Both her lover and her family then rejected her, and she fled the city, never to be heard from again……until she died. In her will, she asked that her head be cut off and hung outside her family’s house as a reminded to never go against your people. After 150 years of her head hanging there, they took it down and replaced it with a plaque.

Near the end of the tour, we stopped at the bull ring. For the last 2 weeks of April there were bull fights every day, but for the rest of the summer they’re only on Sundays. So we won’t see a bull fight in Seville, which is okay, because it’s an extremely, extremely violent sport. (Before the fight even starts, the bull is stabbed a couple times to make sure he’s not at his best.) Allie told us of a famous bull fighter who was told by his doctor that he couldn’t fight anymore. In addition, he shouldn’t smoke, drink, ride a horse, or have sex either. So, he got on his horse, bought some whiskey and tobacco, and hired two prostitutes. In the morning he killed himself, leaving a note that said, “If I can’t live as a man, I won’t live at all!” So they built him a statue.

We didn’t enjoy the tour in Seville quite as much as the one in Madrid, but we’d still had fun and gotten to see a lot of the city. We decided to skip touring the bull ring and head home for a nap instead.

We then got up to wander the city on our own. We needed some food, and were looking for tapas when we passed by a sandwich place that advertised “Euromania” where everything was 1 Euro on Wednesdays. That sounded pretty good to us. So we went inside and ordered an “orange-flavored soda”, a barbacoa sandwich, a chicken sandwich with guacamole, and a bag of homemade chips (impulse buy: they were sitting next to the register). On my way to the counter with our order, I stopped by a table and asked a guy what he was drinking. “Jarra tinto verano.” Jar of summer red wine? Ish? So I ordered that too. A large, since everything’s a Euro.

The food was pretty good for the amount we spent - little sandwiches and lots of chips and a great big glass of what turned out to be carbonated red wine. We made a note to stop back in a couple of hours. Tricia filtched some ice and stuck it in a silverware wrapper to hold to her back as it was hurting her a bit.

Next we went by the cathedral and went into the free portion where mass was held. It was very beautiful inside, with ornate carvings and paintings. And then back out into the city once again.

As we were wondering aimlessly and looking at architecture, we passed a building that advertised “Arte Sencial” in banners all over its sides. So of course we wandered in. There was a guard sitting at a table by the door with pamphlets spread in front of him. We asked him “cuanto cuesta” (how much?) and he told us it was free. Are photos okay? He gave us a “sure, whatever, I really don’t care” nod, and we went in to see what there was.

The exhibit was to help promote Spanish artists, since they don’t apparently get their due in Spain or in the rest of Europe. It seems that the Spanish feel they are behind the rest of Europe, and so they really love European art, architecture, etc. The photos and paintings were interesting: a photo montage of the walk to a church; a photo of hundreds of origami swans all laid out in rows. We stopped for a while and watched a video that showed clips of tides on the sand interspersed with cups of coffee: it would sometimes be slow and sometimes speed up to crazy speeds with flashing lights and colors - a juxtaposition between the tranquil and the fast moving.

After the exhibit, we went back outside and made our way again to Plaza de Espana. There is a sort of moat around the plaza where you can rent boats. A bunch of young girls had rented boats and were completely incapable of rowing them in the right direction. I don’t think they understood that they were supposed to row backwards. In trying to row forwards, they were trying to make the flat part of the boat cut through the water, and the most successful boats were only managing to turn in circles. We sat and watched for a while as the girls shrieked and rowed - they were afraid they were going to tip over (we thought they might tip over too, as they had no talent at rowing boats).

All over the Plaza de Espana all the railings are made of porcelain, which I think is quite funny. It was built in the 1920’s to show how advanced Seville was when they came to the Ibero-American Exposition of 1929. Unfortunately, not a lot of people were traveling as the exposition ended up being the same year the Great Depression hit. In the Plaza, each city in Spain gets a bit of the porcelain devoted to it for a painting. Some are violent with soldiers on horseback killing each other, and some are religious with angels. We walked around the entire plaza and looked at the painting chosen to represent each city.

We’d actually spend a long time walking around, and three hours had passed since we’d last eaten, so we went to Euromania at the “Place of 100 Sandwiches” again (I may be taking liberties with the name, but I’m not too far off). This time it was 8:00, and the place was full to busting. Tricia and I both got Jarra Tinto Verano, and then went upstairs to wait for our two sandwiches and plate of nachos. There were no table upstairs either, so we stood and stared at the diners and tried to make them uncomfortable while we sipped our wine. Many other table-less patrons joined us, and there was a crowd of both sitters and standers.

When Tricia went downstairs to pick up our food, a small group of diners split off from a group of about 15 that had pulled 4 tables together. I pulled their table away from the others and sat at it to stake my claim. A lady hurried over to clean it off for me, and Tricia was very happy when she arrived with the food that there was a place to set it down. The nachos were ridiculous - a handful of chips with tiny bits of nacho cheese, salsa, and guacamole on the side. The sandwiches were pretty good though - we’d gotten ham, chicken, and cheese and “special” with green chilies and red sauce. All in all, better for lunch than for dinner.

On the way home we stopped into a little shop and browsed the wine. We decide on a bottle of red for 1.60 Euros ($2.40). We had planned to drink it on the terrace at our hostel, but instead got comfortable in bed typing on our computers and couldn’t actually get ourselves motivated to leave.

Thought I'd end on a panoramic of Plaza de Espana

5.10.11 - Leaving Cordoba and arriving in Seville

2011-05-30T14:18:00.000-07:00

Pics!

Eight a.m. came way too early, but we had a bus to catch, so we packed up groggily and ate our oatmeal and lumbered outside with our giant bags. We didn’t need to wait too long before a bus showed up, and the stop was right outside the door of the hostel, which was great. The bus wound slowly through the city, and it seemed to take forever to arrive at the train/bus station. Once there, we found the line to buy train tickets and told the teller in Spanish that we wanted to go to Seville. We said this so well, he initially tried to respond in Spanish, but quickly realized he wasn’t coming across and asked which language we actually spoke: “Frances? Ingles?” We switched to a mix of English and easy-for-the-tourists-to-understand Spanish. The man turned the computer screen to face us so we could see the times, and tried to sell us on the 8:50 high-speed train for 17 Euros, but we had our hearts set on the 9:25 local train that would take 20 minutes longer and cost 7 Euros less.

Everything so far brought us all the way to 8:30, so we had a bit of a wait before the train left. We of course settled into the hard blue chairs routinely found in bus stations all over the world and pulled out our computers. At around 9 we’d had enough of that, and walked off in search of our train. There were 4 different ramps leading down to the trains, and we didn’t know which to take. So we went to the first ramp - labeled “1 and 2” - and showed our tickets to the security guard at the x-ray machine. She shook her head and waved us on. We walked a bit farther - to “3 and 4” - and tried again. The lady there took pity on us, and said in perfect English with a French accent: “You always need to verify on the board which platform you need. You see, it says Cadiz is on platform number 6. The train will go to Cadiz after it stops in Seville.”

Still Cordoba - across from the hostel

We thanked her, and didn’t ask how we could possible know that the train to Cadiz was also the same train as the one to Seville, and also kept to ourselves that it would be nice if they could print just a little more info on the ticket itself. We went over to the next ramp - “5 and 6” - and walked down to the platform…..and then turned around and realized we hadn’t passed any security guards or x-ray machines or anything. Apparently, they are only worried about their high-speed trains. Not only was there no security at the low-speed trains, but there was no one there to look at our tickets and verify that we were in the right place. So we put our faith in the lady with the French accent, crossed our fingers, and got on the train.

Seville

The train did in fact stop at Seville. Since it was a local train, it made 5 quick stops before Seville - so quick that we jumped up as soon as the train slowed down for Seville so that we wouldn’t miss our chance and end up in the next city. We walked around a bit trying to find the correct bus stop for our hostel, and when we did we found that there were already a lot of people waiting for the bus. While we waited, two different people asked if this was the bus station for the airport - one in English and one in Spanish. While we’d been looking for our stop, we’d passed the airport stop, so I pointed them both in the right direction and felt pretty darn proud of myself.

Between us and our backpacks and an entire tour group loaded down with rolling suitcases and various other bags, we stuffed the bus full when it arrived. We didn’t get a seat, and struggled to find a bar to hold and keep ourselves upright as the bus turned corners and stopped more quickly than it should have. The ride was ridiculously short, especially considering they’d charged us each $2 - we could have walked it in no time! We still had quite a hike anyway, so a bit extra wouldn’t have made much difference.

We had an hour before we could check in to the hostel at 12:30, so we dropped our bags off so we could walk around the town without being bogged down. The clerk wrote our names down on cards and tied them to the bags with a rubber band. We traipsed off into the very very hot May Sevillian sun to find something to eat for lunch.

We found a strange little bar called Bar Duque that was sort of in a trailer, and we did the thing where you walk in a bit zig-zaggedly to show that you haven’t really committed to eating there. But, the place had tapas and an English menu, and it looked rather good, so we settled in at the bar (which was pretty much all there was in the tiny space) and ordered a hamburger and a “tuna on toast”. We first had a long conversation with the bartender about what was on the hamburger, as our choices were “hamburger,” “hamburger with ham”, and “hamburger with vegetables”. The bartended eventually decided that the regular hamburger would come with lettuce and tomato, and so that’s what we ordered. When it came out it was clearly a store-bought frozen patty that was quite possibly pork instead of beef, but it was still pretty good. The tuna came with roasted red peppers and tomatoes on a toasted sandwich (it was a piece of tuna steak, not to be confused with tuna from a can), and it was delicious. We also asked for tap water (“aqua de grifo”, as we learned from Jose in Madrid), and were delighted to get ice cold water from the beer tap instead of lukewarm water from the faucet. The place was a hit for us.

The chef wandered out as we were finishing up, and we waived him over and displayed our money in an international “we are ready to go how much do we owe you” gesture. I could follow enough of the Spanish to understand the dialogue that followed: he called to the waiter across the bar to find out what we’d had; the waiter answered that he should know we’d just had a hamburger and a tuna sandwich. But the chef didn’t know who had what. The waiter explained that we’d taken a knife and cut everything in half (which the chef had missed, being in the back), so he thought we just needed the total and we’d figured out how to pay on our own. The chef turned his attention back to us and clasped his hands together. “Total?” We repeated the gesture and nodded. “Total!” We actually each had our 2.25 Euros ready, since tax is already included in Spain and we could do the math ourselves. We just needed to make sure they hadn’t added anything for the water or the little breadstick basket or eating at the counter or anything else.

After lunch we returned to our hostel - the Oasis. It was brand new and very cheap - only about $16 per bed. We were staying in a 14-bed room, and the hostel had gotten some mixed reviews since it had only been open a month and only had 2 bathrooms for all 14 people. However, as soon as we saw our room we were very happy! Even though there were 7 bunks, the room was really 2 rooms, so ours only had 4 bunks, or 8 people. The second room held the other 3 bunks, and also had a cute little balcony (we were on the 2^nd floor). We also had a tiny patio just for our room, with little wicker chairs and potted plants. And under each bed was a giant drawer that locked that was about twice as big as each of our backpacks, so we could put our packs in the back and still have room for clothes, toiletries, food, purses, computers, and all the other daily items we needed in the front.

Since it was the middle of the day, we took advantage of the empty bathrooms and did some laundry. It was my first time doing laundry, and I filled the sink with water and scrubbed my clothes on the pink “Zote” laundry bar I bought for this trip. Mostly I just scrubbed the “problem areas”, and then wadded the piece of clothing up to get it all nice and soapy. Tricia and I strung a clothesline around our bunk and hung our laundry on three sides, making a curtain of clothes for me on the bottom bunk.

We decided to spend some time exploring Seville, so we walked to the other side of the city to hit a couple of little churches. In front of one was a shady square full of couples and kids relaxing and playing on bikes and scooters. It was a really nice little scene, and we sat and people watched for a while. As we began our walk back in the direction of our hostel we passed a grocery store called LIDL which had really cheap prices - like an Aldi of Spain. We bought some chocolate-covered cream-filled pastries for about a dollar and made a note to return for real food (although we never did make it back there).

There was a museum called the Centro Andaluz de Arte Contemporaneo that was free on Tuesdays, so we walked over the bridge across the river Guadalquivir to check it out. It was situated in a huge monastery on a ton of land, and the entire place felt like a ghost town. We walked around aimlessly, not really sure if the occasional gate in a wall was an invitation to enter or not. Finally, we passed a bike rack with about a half dozen bikes in it, so we figured we were getting close to where we wanted to be.

We walked through a completely empty courtyard where an encouraging little sign said “tickets” with an arrow. On the walls were what we took to be graffiti: someone had drawn pictures of dollar signs in strange positions with the caption “Money Having Sex”. Soon after we learned that this was actually art, The artist is the American Jessica Diamond, and her other work at the museum include giant letters reading “I HATE BUSINESS”, the slogan “Faith in Paper”, and “Is this all there is?” That was it. I wasn’t sure I really got her work.

Finally, we arrived at the ticket office. We asked the lady if it was free, and she shook her head sadly. It used to be free on Tuesdays, but now only on Sundays. Oh well, we’d come all this way, how much is it? Well, it is 1.50 Euros each. As we began looking for change, the lady spoke again: on Tuesdays it is only free from 7 to 9 pm. We looked at the clock: 6:45. Seriously? Um, okay, we’ll go ahead and wait. We sat down in the air conditioning of the reception area, and watched as several other people came in and had the exact same conversation: “It costs1.50.” “I thought it was free today.” “No. It isn’t free today. It’s only free on Sundays. On Tuesday it isn’t free until 7.” Each person looked at the lady like they were sure they were missing something, and then went back outside to wait until 7.

At 7 the lady smiled sweetly and called us over and handed us our free tickets. We learned that most of the exhibits are temporary international exhibits that stay for three months and then move on to a different museum. This was particularly confusing to us in the exhibits where they’d painted directly onto the walls of the monastery as with Jessica’s work, or in the Marxist exhibit where three rooms of the monastery were painted blood red and then filled with books and couches to facilitate discussion and provoke thought. (I came to the conclusion that while I don’t understand modern art, I really have no use for contemporary art: painting a room red and signing your name to it doesn’t make you an artist in my opinion.) The theme of the entire museum was “The Political Constitution of the Present” (I didn’t make that up - it was in the pamphlet). There were Italians bemoaning the apathy of the populace, a room full of tiny clay people apparently depicting famous scenes which were also played out on little tv screens (the clay people played them out, not real people - the only one I recognized was from 9.11), a timeline of the fall of the USSR stretching through several rooms, another timeline depicting Lebanon’s conflicts (in English, not Spanish), one entire wall devoted to clippings of every time a country was mentioned in one particular newspaper (just the county’s name, over and over; apparently this is repeated every year - we were looking at 2010’s offering) and another entire wall where the artist repetitively writes the word “woman” on note cards, but half with her left hand to symbolize visual tension and changes of rhythm. Overall, it was quite strange.

The thing about the monastery is that it has a ton of history all by itself. For example, Saint Anne’s chapel held the body of Christopher Columbus for 25 years back in the 1500s. Today it’s full of articles cut from newspapers of genocide and slavery from around the world that the artist didn’t think made big enough headlines. The “Little Cloister” is one of Seville’s finest examples of Mudejar architecture, combining Christian and Moorish styles. Back to art again - a very strange permanent exhibit was created in the monastery’s pools. There was a lot of flooding when the monastery was in use, and as a tribute to the monastery and the river an artist submerged pieces of the architectural remains of the building (mainly columns) into the pools.

We left the art portions of the monastery and wandered the grounds looking for two waterwheels. They weren’t where they were supposed to be according to our map, and we never did find them as it was almost 9 and I started to worry that, since we were just about the only people in the museum, they would lock the gates and we’d be stuck there for the night. We got out in time though, and began the trek home. I paused to take one last picture of a billboard that I mistook at first as being something other than art (namely, a billboard). I actually would recommend checking this out if you’re ever in Seville - it’s cheap, mostly in English, and completely weird.

On our way back to the hostel, we stopped at a Corte Ingles (which spanned a city block and had 4 flags pointing it out on our map). We found the grocery store in the basement of the 7 story building, and picked up cereal on a clearance shelf for $1.50, boxed milk that is shelf-safe until you open it, and a 6-pack of gala apples. Our total came to $6. We returned to the hostel and had some cereal. I was amused by the box, which had every sentence translated into 22 different languages and had serving instructions, for those people who had never eaten cereal before.

Our last stop of the evening was to a bar for some free Flamenco with a small group of other hostel-ers. Even though there were only 6 of us, the bar was completely packed, and we had to climb over one table to get to the only empty spot in the place - a table with 3 chairs. Tricia and I shared one, two girls from Toronto took the other two across from us, and the other 2 girls leaned on the wall behind us. The dancers had a great time, even pulling their friends from the audience to dance for us as well and goading the guitarist into showing off a few moves. What started with 2 female dancers ended with 4, and 5 if you count the guitarist. I’m actually starting to like Flamenco more as we see people who have more fun doing it, although Tricia likes the more technically proficient dancers better. Of course, the better dancers aren’t usually free. J

We considered having a drink since we’d stayed at the bar but hadn’t purchased anything, but since no one had paid any attention to us in the slightest we gave it up and walked home with the girls from Canada, who were also on a 3 month trip, having just finished their semester of school (they were born in ‘88 - ah, we are getting old!). The others went out on a pub crawl, but we’d had our fill of staying up until 4 am in Madrid and had had a full day already. Plus, in a 14-bed dorm the likelihood of our getting 7 hours sleep if we started at 4 am was absolutely zip. So we walked home and found our bunk and called it a night.

Cordoba - 5.9.11

2011-05-26T12:11:00.000-07:00

Kevan had told us when we’d arrived at the hostel that the Mesquita was free from 8:30 to 10 on Mondays and Tuesdays. Upon reading the literature he’d given us, we learned that this was because a mass was held at 10 on Monday and Tuesday, and they don’t ask everyone entering whether they’re there as a tourist or as a parishioner. We felt slightly guilty, but we also knew there would be a lot of people there doing the same thing, and at least we’d be informed and more respectful than most other tourists. So, Tricia set her alarm for 7:30 so she could get up and shower. I curled up into a ball and scrunched my eyes shut as usual until 8 when she came back in and made me get up. After a quick bite of oatmeal, we were on our way.

We arrived at the Mesquita at around 9, and walked around trying to decide where to go. We decided the ramp with a guard at the top looked promising, and stealthily tried to ease closer so we could see what others were doing. A couple of men walked up in shorts and ball caps, and the guard motioned to them to remove their caps and then let them inside. I was wearing a tank top, so I pulled off my scarf and wrapped it around my shoulders like a shawl. The guard watched me, and as we approached he nodded approvingly and stood aside to let us in.

The inside was huge, with striped arches left over from when the Moors built it as a prayer/meeting house and alcoves filled with alter pieces of angels and saints and other religious icons. At 10 am the bells began to ring, and we realized there was a small section in the center of the building set aside for the mass. We could just barely see the back few rows, and couldn’t see the priest at all, but the mass was broadcast on speakers throughout the Mesquita and went on until we left. Tricia and I separated a few minutes after we left the building, and she went a little photo-crazy: the first 187 photos are of the Mesquita.

Next we crossed the bridge to visit the Calahorra Tower Museum. We paid 4 Euros to enter, but were given free headphones to listen to the audiotour in each room. It was an interesting setup: each room would broadcast to the headphones, and there were transmitters on the ceiling to send the signals. In some rooms there were two different transmissions, so if you crossed the line in the middle of the room you would suddenly be listening to something else.

In one room we heard some writings by Muslims, Christians, and Jews from hundreds of years ago read aloud. I particularly liked the common theme that religion should not be about fear of punishment or hope of rewards. There was also a model of the Mesquita, which was very cool. It is about all that is left from when the Muslims were in Cordoba - the libraries, shops, and homes are all gone.

We were also able to climb to the top of the tower and see the city, as we do in every city and in every historical building. We didn’t spend too long on the roof though, as we were getting hungry and it was time to eat.

As we were getting close to the plaza, we passed a pastry shop and went inside. We were worried that so close to the tourist areas the pastries would be expensive, but they were less than 2 Euros apiece, and so we got a couple to eat at the hostel before siesta. As we continued our journey, we passed a little grocery store as well. We looked at all the food, and in the frozen food section we found artichoke hearts and ham and cheese croquettes. We read the back of the croquettes for instructions, and decided we could either fry them in a pan or cook them in a microwave. So we bought both.

We ate our yummy pastries as soon as we got to the hostel (I heated mine in the microwave so the chocolate inside would be all warm and gooey). And then we took our siesta, setting the alarm for 5:00 so we could eat again before seeing some more patios in the afternoon.

When we got up, we learned some interesting things about our food. One: the croquettes were supposed to be either fried in oil or in a deep fryer. The picture on the bag was not, in fact, of a microwave. The croquettes were covered in flour and breadcrumbs just waiting for the oil. Well, we didn’t have a deep fryer and weren’t about to heat oil on the stove (been there, done that), so those were going to go into the microwave. The artichokes also did not want to go into the microwave, but that was just too bad. In they went.

Now, as Tricia was fooling with the artichokes, I tried to open the croquettes. I couldn’t get the bag open, so grabbed a knife and sliced into it. And into my finger. I stopped and regarded the little white slit in my finger. Tricia left her artichokes and came to look at it with me. After a bit of discussion, we decided I should run it under cold water while she went to get a band-aid. By the time she returned, my finger had started to bleed and was turning the water a nice rust color. After another discussion, we wrapped the finger in toilet paper and then in mechanical tape (it seemed a shame to waste a band-aid), and then I held my hand above my heart to stop the bleeding and watched while Tricia finished lunch. [I’ll jump to the end of the story - no, I didn’t see a doctor. It’s been 3 days now and my finger is still a nice flesh color, not black or purple or any other scary color.]

Tricia put all our food on a tray and it made a lovely display. Unfortunately, presentation was all it had going for it: the croquettes were still the color of flour and breadcrumbs, and were quite strange. I let Tricia eat some of mine, as she liked them better than the artichokes, which looked alright but were still quite hard. I figured crunchy veggies were better than the squishy croquettes, although I did need to spit one or two out whose leaves were just plain inedible.

So after that failure, we made a quick stop at the tiny Church of San Bartolome, and then continued on towards the patios. On the way we came across the royal stables and took some pictures, but the horse shows were only on the weekends and we had missed them. We spent the next hour at the various houses, seeing the requisite plastic flower pots, tiny caged birds, tiny bronze utensils, and wishing wells.

We returned to the hostel for a second siesta, but left again at 10 to go to the Light, Sound, and Water show at the Alcazar. There were just a few people milling around in the courtyard, as they apparently didn’t give many invitations to each show. At 10:30, the show began: a video was projected onto the wall of the Alcazar and words giving the religion in power at the time were projected into a pool of water in the center of the courtyard. It was completely awesome. Basically, it was an animated film like you would see in history class, except without words since we all spoke different languages. If I’d been in history class, I’d have wanted to poke my eyes out with a pencil, but being in Spain, in a castle, in the middle of the night, with a couple dozen other people who spoke all different languages, watching a completely surreal film on the history of Spain; well, it was awesome.

Following the show, we all went into the gardens where the water show was going on. In the first pool, water was shooting straight up and was lighted in a rainbow of different colors. We followed the pool all the way to the far end of the garden, and then crossed over and doubled back along the second pool, where the water shot out from the center at an angle and arched out towards the sides. Finally, at the third pool water arched from the sides into the center, crossing over each other as it went. It was a lot of fun, and we were there for a long time watching the various colors and designs on display.

Even though it was well after 11, we thought we would go to the square and have dinner. When we arrived though, the place we had wanted to eat was closed and didn’t look as though it had even opened that day. The rest of the places were closing up as well - the outdoor tables and chairs were being stacked up and dragged inside. We still thought we could find a place to eat, but after wandering around for half an hour we gave it up - midnight is as late as places are open in Cordoba on a weekday. Though the weekends - even Sunday - had been packed with people still out walking around and eating into the early-morning hours, weekdays were a different story. We eventually found an ice cream place that was still open, bought a couple of cones, and called it dinner. And even though we needed to get up early to catch the 9:25 train to Seville, we still stayed up until 2 writing and packing and making phone calls to the states.

Cordoba - 5/8/11

2011-05-17T13:37:00.000-07:00

Pics!

Tricia’s alarm went off once again at 9, and we went downstairs to make ourselves some oatmeal. We had just a little technical difficulties, as someone had set the power to low and it took us several times through to realize why the oatmeal wasn’t cooking. The Independent Traveler Hostel has a cute little porch next to the kitchen where we ate in the cool morning air.

Our first stop that morning was to the Cordoban Alcozar (castle). Upon arriving, we briefly debated whether we should spend the 4 Euros ($6) to see it, having just seen the Segovian Alcozar and the Toledan Alcazar, but eventually decided we were in Europe to spend our money and we bought two tickets. Immediately upon entering, we were glad we’d gone - we were greeted by a magnificent garden, complete with fruit trees, flowers, fountains, statues, and pools. We spent nearly an hour just wandering the grounds and taking pictures. We also contemplated jumping into a pool, as the farther south we go the warmer it gets.

We finally made it into the Alcazar itself, where we could see ruins of the original foundation from the upper windows. We went through all the rooms, seeing tapestries, paintings, and tilework (which you could just reach out and touch - and which I saw someone do). I don’t really understand why 13^th century pieces aren’t better protected….but maybe there’s just a lot of it. J

Finally, we climbed to the top of the Alcazar and looked at over the city and the gardens - as is the thing to do in Alcazars. As we are in serious tourist season in Adalucia, there were tons of people up there with us, and any pictures without anyone else in them was a pretty amazing feat!

When we had entered the Alcazar, we had seen a sign for a free “Light, sound, and water” show and walking tour at the Alcazar at night, and all we had to do was pick up “invitations” at the tourist booth. This was right across the street, so we stopped in to see what we could get. The lady at the booth still had tickets for the following night’s show at 10 or 10:30, so we knew it would be a short performance, and we got two tickets for the 10:30 show. Then we hurried over to the Archeological Museum to catch the last 2 hours before it closed at 2:30.

The museum was actually pretty interesting. It had been built over the site of an ancient theater that was destroyed in an earthquake in the third century. There were a ton of ruins, including part of the staircase up to the balcony seating and also part of the balcony itself which fell when the support crumbled. There was also a huge drainage system to drain away sewage, rainwater, and other runoff. The theater was only discovered in 1994, but it could hold 15000 spectators and is one of the largest in Europe. In other parts of the museum we saw tons of crumbling Romanesque statues, sculptures, and tilework from the history of Cordoba. We also once again tried to get into the library on the third floor of the building, and we were once again chased off by the museum guards.

Since it was once again siesta time and everything was closed, we went off in search of lunch. Back at the Plaza, we looked through all the menus at the places recommended to us by Kevan at the hostel. At one place, Rabo de Toro (bull’s tail) was listed as only being 2 Euros, but when we went inside, the menu at the table listed it at 14 Euros. We went back outside and pointed this out to a waiter, who pulled a chef over, and they discussed it at length. They finally decided that the ‘1’ was missing in front of the 2, and it should have said 12 Euros, and besides this was an old menu and the prices had gone up.

We decided to eat at this restaurant anyway, and sat down at a table inside since there were none available outside. We ordered Flamenquin, which we had been told was basically deep fried ham, “like a corndog, but less processed.” The waiter asked us, “algun mas?” (What else?) And we said nada. And to drink? Nada. This was shaping up to be another restaurant where the waitsttaff hated us. J

The waiter left with our tiny order, but soon returned with a bread basket with one bun and some breadsticks (one meal - one piece of bread). A minute later, he delivered a little tapa plate of olives. And when we’d finished the bread, they brought us more. So we decided that in spite of our rocky beginning, they liked us after all.

The Flamenquin was as described - pieces of ham tightly rolled into a hot dog-shape and then deep-fried. However, the plate also came with a bit of salad and French fries, which I wasn’t expecting and which was very nice. Tricia liked the Flamenquin a lot, as she is a big fan of corn dogs. I thought it was just alright.

Afterward we stopped off at the Jewish synagogue. Built in 1315, it is one of three synagogues left in Spain and is largely unaltered. We were expecting something magnificent - rather similar to the Catholic cathedrals that are all over, so we were disappointed by the one-room building jam-packed with tourists and tour guides. Basically, we spent a few minutes looking at the architecture and then fled from the overflow of tourists.

We had more time than we’d planned on, since we expected the synagogue to take an hour or so, so we dipped back to the hostel for a little while to call our mothers and wish them a Happy Mothers' Day. There was also a little napping involved. The alarm woke us at about 5, and we set off to the far end of the city to view some of the patios. On the way out we ran into Kevan, who was hanging around an outdoor “bar”. He told us that the bar had the best snails in Spain, and that we should stop by on our way back. We told him we’d stop by at 11 and sample the snails and beer and the cured ham displayed outside on a skewer.

Since we had the extra time, we walked all the way to the farthest houses to see the flowers they had on display. Most of the houses in Cordoba open onto a patio, and then the house or apartments are built around it like a little courtyard. The patios were beautiful, and crowded with both Spanish and non-Spanish tourists, all using the same map to find the 40 or so patios open to the public. Tricia and I were both a little surprised by what is considered desirable in a Spanish garden. In the states, flowers, trees, and bushes would all grow in the ground or in big stone pots. In Spain, the ground was mostly hard, so the people hung plastic flower pots from the walls in perfectly shaped patterns. It was strange to get used to at first, but we quickly began enjoying the flowers and decorations people had made in their gardens.

After hitting a dozen or so patios, we were hungry again, and so went back to the plaza to try a second restaurant and a second recommended dish of Cordoba. This time we bought Salmorejo, a soup served cold and made from garlic, tomatoes, and bread blended together but not cooked. It was very good - bread is added until it will no longer blend in, so it is very thick and is typically eaten by dipping bread or breadsticks into it, which is what we did until we ran out of bread and had to resort to a spoon. They had again delivered the bread to our table unrequested, but this time they charged us for it!! Over a dollar!

We headed back to the hostel and up to our room, and there discussed the wisdom of eating snails as a late-night snack. Tricia Googled it and read what tourists had said about the snails. Apparently there are 4 different kinds. Some tourists optimistically ordered and tried all 4 before deciding they couldn’t stomach them. I also mentioned to Tricia that they taste a lot like mushrooms, which immediately turned her off of them. I’ve had them before, but on a cruise where they were big and “prepared” for us. These were very small and were served in the shell, where we would then need to figure out how to get the meat out of it and probably look like idiots. Also it was probably expensive to get if we weren’t going to like it. So, in the end we skipped going back to the bar and stayed in the rest of the night (keep in mind it was already after 11 though - we’d eaten dinner at the traditional 9:30 hour).
　
　

5/7/11 - On the road to Cordoba

2011-05-16T15:22:00.000-07:00

The best part of waking up
Is Folgers in you cup
Or whatever. Here's pics.

When we woke up at 9:00 in Toledo the rain was coming down in buckets. We could hear it pouring outside, and so in retaliation we curled up under the covers and refused to get out of bed. It was after 10 when we finally got up, and we went straight to McDonalds once again to check our internet and book another hostel. Our plan was to order something akin to a bacon egg and cheese sandwich, but the breakfast menu in Toledo consisted of coffee and pastry or coffee and pancakes. With orange juice if you like. So, we settled on just coffee and again took our computers upstairs.

We decided to find our own pastries for breakfast, and ended up at the same pizza place we’d tried the night before. Not having very much time, we didn’t want to look for another place, and so ordered chocolate-filled croissants. They were very good - the place heated them up for us and everything.

We still had to pack and check out of our hotel, but we soon realized we were never going to make the 12:00 bus back to Madrid. We went back to the hotel and paid for our room, then got everything together and on our backs. I didn’t attach my daypack to my hiking pack, and realized the bag was much more comfortable without the day pack pulling it backwards. We hurried to the bus stop, and got there just before our bus, which was nice because it would be a 15 minute wait for the next one.

The local bus dropped us off at the bus station at 12:10, so we needed to wait until 1 for the next bus. This would put us into Madrid at 2, meaning we would miss the 2:00 bus and need to wait for the 4:00 bus. It was a 5 hour bus, so we were looking at 9 before we arrived in Cordoba.

Once in Madrid, we still needed to grab a metro to the other bus station. We had some time, so we sat in the cafeteria to fill up before our long ride. I got a salad “buffet”, which apparently means something like “self-serve”, and Tricia got an egg and cheese baguette “combo”, which came with Coke and coffee. On my salad I piled on the pickles, olives, tomatoes, cheese, hard boiled egg, roasted red peppers, carrots, tuna fish, ham, and vinegar. I made a good effort, but couldn’t quite finish it.

Next came the great outlet search. We walked from one end of the station all the way to the other, but couldn’t find a single outlet! Finally, we gave up and were taking off our packs and bags and things (a lengthy process) and preparing to settle in to wait for a bus, when I saw a strip of 4 outlets a little way down the hall. So we loaded up again and made our way down there. The lady sitting closest to the outlets took in our getup and moved away so we could have the entire bank of seats for our things. I pulled out my computer and my adapter and plugged in….only to learn that they had no power.

One of the ladies watching this craziness took pity on us and used sign language to point out where we might find a usable outlet. So we set off again, and found a power box set about 5 feet up in the wall. We needed to lift up the metal covers, but found two outlets. After a brief discussion about whether these were really meant for us, we decided that the “foreigner and don’t speak the language” card would get us out of most kinds of trouble, and we plugged in. Not 5 minutes later though, a man came up with his dead cell phone and looked longingly at the only two outlets in the entire terminal which we were using with our computers. So I unplugged mine, and Tricia pulled out her surge protector, which then needs to be plugged into the adaptor. Unfortunately the outlet cover wouldn’t allow the precarious balance of surge protector, adaptor, and two computer plugs, so one of us had to stand there and hold the whole thing onto the outlet.

It didn’t take us too long to tire of that, and between eating and searching it was getting late, so we went off to find our bus. We stowed our bags underneath and brought our daypacks and computers and snacks into the bus with us. The bus was supposed to have Wi-Fi, which had us excited for a minute, but we couldn’t get it to work. So we got out our earphones and danced in the seat (we weren’t listening to the same music, but that doesn’t matter) and used our computers without the internet.

Tricia and the little potty

After about 2 hours Tricia started to get antsy and need a bathroom. I pointed out that there was a bathroom on the bus, but she wasn’t too keen on that idea. I also pointed out that it was probably fairly clean since none of the other passengers had used it yet. She decided to hope the driver needed gas soon. After about 3 hours, the bus pulled into a BP. Tricia and several other passengers jumped to their feet. However, the driver and his friend just looked at the gauges for a few minutes and then turned the bus around and got back on the road. So Tricia decided to give the tiny little bathroom a go. She said it was not, in fact, clean. But, she did start a trend, and many people got up to use the bathroom after her.

After about 4 hours the bus did, in fact, need gas, and the driver kicked us all off while he filled up. We went into the little rest stop and looked at the food and the souvenirs, and then went back out into the parking lot to wait with the other passengers. There were 3 buses the looked exactly the same, right down to the Madrid * Cordoba writing in the window, so everyone was watching out to make sure they were on the right bus. A couple people did get on our bus and made it all the way to the back before realizing they weren’t in the right place.

When we finally got to Cordoba at 9, we jumped on a local bus that eventually let us off right in front of our hostel - the Independent Traveler. The owner, Kevan, led us upstairs to drop off our bags, and we were both surprised to find that we had booked a private room! We had confused the hostel from Cordoba with the one from Seville, where we will be staying with 12 other people. J

Many artists were painting in the
square late at night

Kevan wanted to make sure we knew all the best things to do in Cordoba, and sat us down and gave us a map and drew in the routes to the main attractions. He also circled his favorite restaurants, and told us of the local dishes - Bull’s Tail, Deep-Fried Ham, and Tomato and Bread Soup. Finally, he gave us a map of the Patio Festival, which is where local people open up their houses and let people come in to see the flowers in bloom on their patios. It goes on from May 4 to May 15, and is the reason we came to Cordoba when we did.

Finally, Kevan told us of a free concert going on in the Plaza starting at 10:00 that night. So we hurried over to catch it. We missed the beginning, but we got to hear a couple of songs from the first singer, all dressed up in a black and yellow traditional Spanish dress. Next was a male singer and a guitarist (we have a video of that one). Finally was a male Flamenco dancer and his “group” - several singers and guitarists. They egged him on as his feet flew and he danced all over the stage. Tricia said he wasn’t as technically good as the girl we’d seen, but I really liked his attitude!

It was actually getting quite chilly by midnight, so we got up and walked around. We were reading the info on the patio festival to find out if it was free or not, but it was in Spanish. We did find some prices, about 3.555, and some things that said 1^st, 2^nd, and 3^rd with prices next to them, so we wondered if the more patios you see, the cheaper it gets. When we got back to the hostel, we asked Kevan what the prices meant, and he asked “you think you need to spend 3 thousand euros to see the patios??” Oh, that’s right - decimals and commas are reversed in Europe! We had thought it was about 3.5 euros! It turns out that’s the entrance fee - 3.5 thousand Euros, or almost 5,000 dollars!!

Tricia and I brushed off Kevan’s “you’re back early” comment and headed upstairs. We’re still using the “we’re Americans - we need sleep” excuse. Plus, we don’t take siestas. Very often. J

5/6/11 - Welcome to Toledo

2011-05-15T14:51:00.000-07:00

Pics!

On Friday we were leaving Madrid and heading for Toledo. We again set our alarm for 7 am, although there was a little bit of curling up into a little ball and hiding under the covers on both of our parts. Eventually though we dragged ourselves out of bed and packed our things into our backpacks (somehow they seem to be getting harder to pack, in spite of the fact that we haven’t bought anything and have eaten our way through some of our stuff).

Out in the apartment we sampled the pastries we had bought and had “little coffee” - apparently only Americans are coffee crazy. Europe drinks espresso. I don’t think they Supersize either. We had croissants filled with chocolate, a sort of brownie-like thing that didn’t really taste like chocolate, and a flaky pastry dipped in chocolate. It was a theme.

We had meant to leave with Jose when he left for work at 8:15, but we didn’t quite make it. We could have been out about 5 minutes later, but once you’re late, you’re late, right? So we stuck around and booked a hostel in Cordoba and did some more research on Toledo. Right near the apartment was a store called Corte Ingles which opened at 10 and sold cameras, so at 9:35 I set out for it while Tricia looked at hostels in Seville. Googlemaps had said it would take 15 minutes, but it had me going around a park that I walked right through, so I had 20 minutes to wait. At my entrance there were already 3 cars waiting, and I could see more at the other entrances. They didn’t open the parking lot until 10 either.

By 10 the line of cars was stretched out down the street (I couldn’t take a picture - I broke my camera, remember?) and there was another woman waiting with me who had arrived on foot. A security guard was sitting inside the gate watching the clock, and at 2 til he finally let us in. I hurried to the door, but when I got inside I stopped dead in my tracks. The place was at least 7 stories tall! There were floors above me and below me, and they went on in all directions as far as the eye could see. I stopped a woman and asked for electronics, and she sent me down a floor. I headed for the televisions, and then asked for cameras - that woman sent me down two more floors. I ended up in a sea of perfume, and asked for directions once more at one of the booths - all the way to the end, and then turn left. Finally, cameras!

This transaction was fairly easy, as I’d done the research. I will translate this conversation into English for you:
I need a camera.
What kind?
Sony. The same as this one. (Hold up broken camera.)
Mmmm….this one is similar.
Is it 129 Euros? On the internet it said 129 Euros. I want the one that is 129 Euros.
Yes it is 129 Euros.
Okay, I want it.
Black or silver?
(Long pause.) Black

There was also a lot of Spanish that I didn’t catch, but that was the gist of it. I gave the lady my credit card and my license, and together we made sure it took the same battery and the same memory card, and then we put the broken camera in the box and the new camera with the old (charged) battery in my camera case, and I rushed out of the store, snapping pictures as I went.

Using the computer while
standing on the metro.

Back at the house, Tricia and I got our things together, left a thank-you note, locked up, and made our way to the bus station via the metro. Buses left every hour for Toledo, so we were soon on our way (after a lot of going up and down stairs looking for someone to sell us tickets and a denied credit card and then wandering around looking for the right platform - again on a different floor).

We arrived in Toledo at 2 and contemplated walking from the bus station to the hotel. It would only take a half hour! However, they didn’t have any maps at the bus station, and the shopkeeper we asked for directions pleaded with us to take a bus since we had our packs and it would be mostly uphill. Without a map we decided we should give in, and quickly realized that we would have a) gotten lost and b) never made it up those hills.

Doing laundry

We’d been unable to find a hostel in Toledo, so we stayed at a little hotel instead. We had a room to ourselves as well as our own bathroom complete with shower and bathtub. And bidet.

Some of the attractions were going to close at 5:30, so we went out to see how many we could get to in 4 hours. We started out in the Mesquita (if you’re ever in Toledo this is perfectly skippable, while the one in Cordoba is supposed to be one of the top sites to see in Spain and is free on Monday and Tuesday mornings). It is a former mosque from the 10^th century, and was built on the site of a Visigothic church. So, its history is interesting. There are a few foundation pieces preserved under glass, as well as a few rooms held up by columns with typical Muslim archways. The best part is a garden with a terrace that overlooks the Puerta del Sol. We spentt a lot of time taking pictures under the trees in the garden and of the city. This is where we learned that my new camera takes really, really easy panoramic photos. We also learned that it flips vertical pictures so they’re already the right direction when they’re uploaded onto a computer. This is a pain when you’re looking at the camera’s tiny screen, but is going to save tons of time when I finally get around to doing photos. The camera is growing on me a bit.

Next we walked down to the Puerta del Sol (Gate of the Sun). In Toledo the gate is still standing, and we walked beneath it on our way to the Museum Santa Cruz. As we passed underneath it, we noticed an innocuous little door standing open. Almost like something a worker would use to, say, light a torch on top of the stone gate. After some discussion, we decided to go for it. (We are foreigners after all - we can claim ignorance of the rules.) We tiptoed up the ridiculously tall stone stairs, and eventually found our way to a tiny little museum with a guard sitting at a desk. He didn’t say anything to us, so we found another staircase and continued our vertical journey. Suddenly, we came out on the roof of the gate. This was magnificent! We could see all around in every direction, and had it to ourselves! There was a ledge around the inside of the wall so we could climb up and see over the wall, and there was even a placard with a picture of the city labeling the various buildings that could be seen. If you’re in Toledo, don’t miss this. I highly recommend it.

When we’d finally had enough and climbed down, Tricia decided she hadn’t done enough rock climbing since leaving the US. She started up the side of a pile of rocks, and ended up about 12 feet off the ground. I snapped some pictures, and then came the part where she had to get down. It’s always easier going up! After laughing a bit and some heckling, I stood behind her and pointed out footholds and guided her feet to them - I don’t want to lose my travel companion to a broken leg!

Next up was the Museo Santa Cruz. This was a free museum, but it was huge and really nice inside. We started out in the courtyard, which was full of flowers and statues and stone sarcophaguses. There was a temporary exhibit on the second floor of painter Miguel Barnes, but Tricia and I thought he was strange and didn’t particularly understand his work. It was modern art once again. There was also a large exhibit on ceramics.

On the next floor, we found a small section of bones and artifacts from the Paleolithic period onward, followed by a large exhibit of religious paintings. We were starting to get a bit slap happy after three wings of Catholic art, so we decided to find a new floor. The final floor was devoted to one artist - Benjamin Palencia. At first his light happy pastel paintings were a nice change from all the dark paintings on the other floors, but his paintings soon turned dark and violent as well, so we decided to leave the Museo Santa Cruz. It is, however, worth a visit if you’re in Toledo.

We began to look for a place to eat. All the restaurants still had their Menu del Dias out, and since it was only 7:30, we thought they might still be serving “lunch”. We went into one restaurant/bar and asked whether we could still order off the day menu. Everyone there looked at us like we were crazy - they didn’t serve food at 7:30! Dinner didn’t start until 8! Okay….“so then when do you open in the morning?” At 11. That sounded far too early to me, so I probed further: “but when do you serve food tomorrow?” At 1. Apparently, you can get a beer at 11 am, but the kitchen will still be closed.

Since we couldn’t order from a day menu, and the night menus more than double in price, we settled for a ham and cheese pizza. Afterward, we went to McDonalds, and tested out their Wi-Fi before ordering anything. Once we were both connected, we bought a couple of yogurts with fruit of the “Euro” menu and headed upstairs to the dining area. I needed to call my bank through the computer because my credit card kept getting declined, but the lady couldn’t hear me so I headed for a quieter area - the bathrooms. It took quite a while to get it sorted out, and I got funny looks from women, men, and employees who wanted to clean the bathroom. So, it was another successful day. J

5/5/11 - Segovia

2011-05-11T05:41:00.000-07:00

Pics!!

Seven o’clock is way to early to get up in Spain if you’re not going to take a Siesta, and Tricia and I were groggy when the alarm went off. We were up early enough to have breakfast with Jose, and he made us coffee to go with our oatmeal. Then we made our way to the train station so we could go to Segovia. We were a little concerned with our ability to buy tickets. First we found the ticket office, but there were three lines of such different lengths that it was clear each had a specific purpose. I got into one of the lines, and Tricia tried her hand at a machine that said it sold tickets automatically, but that no one was using. A couple people came up to me and asked me about the line in Spanish, so a) it must be confusing for everybody and b) I must look like a local. The guy in front of me was going to Segovia too, and he finally decided we should switch lines, so I followed him to a new line. Tricia gave up on the automated machine about this time and choose a third line with hardly any people in it. When she got to the beginning of that line, the teller pointed her in my direction, so she came over to join me.

The actual purchase of the tickets was much smoother, and we soon were sitting on the high speed train. We had four seats facing each other all to ourselves, with a little table in the middle as well as outlets in the armrests. I plugged in my computer and went to town (I really am caught up with blogging, in spite of the fact that I rarely have internet and have no time to go through the pictures and so haven’t posted). The ride is only a half hour long, so we were soon there.

At the train station we grabbed a bus into town, and it dropped us off at the aqueduct. (Also spelled aqqueduct or acueduct on various signs in Segovia.) The aqueduct is amazing - it was built in the third century and the stones were cut so precisely that no mortar was used at all in the construction.

We were hungry again, so we stopped at a coffee shop (which claimed to have the best coffee in the world -> see pic) and bought a cream filled doughnut and a chocolate filled croissant. Then we walked along the beautiful streets in Segovia and took in the tiny winding 1-lane roads that cars sped along and the old buildings and looked out over parts of the city.

Our first major stop was the cathedral, built in 1525. We couldn’t take pictures inside, but it had two magnificent floor-to-ceiling organs covered in baby angels and vines. We went into and out of little rooms, each holding a different religious scene. These were mainly giant altarpieces from the 13^th to 18^th centuries depicting such things as the Immaculate Conception, the Agony of Christ, and the various martyrs. It began to get a little morbid (Catholics don’t pull any punches), as well as chilly in the giant stone structure, so we soon returned out into the sunshine. In the Segovian Plaza Mayor we bought ourselves some fruit for lunch and wandered off in search of the Alcazar of Segovia (castle). It is said that Cinderella’s castle at Disney World was modeled after the Alcazar of Segovia.

Right before I broke my
camera

Now comes the sad part of our story. As we were walking down one of the tiny Segovian streets, I stopped to take a picture. I was too close to my subject, so I backed up into a side street as I was looking through the view finder. Suddenly, the back of my knee hit something, and I went down. It turned out to be one of those posts that are put in concrete to keep cars from going down a road. I scraped up my elbow and fell on my back, but my backpack broke my fall. But the real tragedy was that I slammed the camera into the concrete. The viewfinder took the brunt of the hit, and in retaliation stopped opening. I fooled around with it for the rest of the day, but never could coax it into working. So that was it for the camera.

In the alcazar, we saw the Throne Room, the Fireplace Room, the Cord Room (a Franciscan cord runs along all the walls - it was placed there as a penance for Alfonso the Tenth’s excessive pride), and the Pinecone Room - so named for the conical shapes sticking out of the ceiling. We also walked through an armory and a museum of artillery full of suits of armor, cannons, guns, flags, and coats of arms. Finally, we came out on top of the building and took pictures of the countryside from up above.

When we left the Alcazar it was 2:00, so both the businesses and the attractions were closing up for Siesta. The restaurants were still open though, so we found a little place and went inside to eat (it’s cheaper to eat inside than outside). Segovia’s specialty is roast suckling pig, so we decided we would try it. We again ordered from the “menu del dia”, or “day menu” (like lunch menu). We asked the lady if we could share it (compartir for those of you following along in your Spanish), and she was very nice and said it was okay. She even separated our allotment of wine into 2 portions for us and brought an extra plate before we asked (we were working on the word for bowl - taza).

An ear.

For our first course we had spaghetti with tomato sauce and cheese. It was delicious! And then for our second course we had fried suckling pig with French fries (you may notice I said roast suckling pig earlier - the roast pig is expensive and is an entire pig, while the fried pig is much cheaper and is just a few pieces). When the pig came we weren’t particularly sure how to eat it. We each started with an ear (Tricia ate her whole ear, but I figured two bites was enough to say I’d tried it). We passed on the tongue (how would we split it anyway?) and tried unsuccessfully to chew on bits of meet on the ribs. Finally, we each found a few bits that were all meat, and then we chowed down on the fries.

Lunch also comes with dessert, and we had a choice between café (coffee), helado (ice cream), frusta (fruit), and torta de queso (cheese tort?). We decided on the torta de queso since we knew what everything else was. And lo and behold, torta de queso is cheesecake! Maybe you saw that coming, but I didn’t. I really wouldn’t expect another language to call cheesecake “cake made from cheese”. When you think of it like that, it is kind of weird, right?

As an aside, the tv was on in the bar, and it was playing international news in Spanish. Tricia and I are a little behind on the times, not having seen a tv in a week, so it was news to us that Bin Ladin was killed this past weekend. You’d think someone would have told us.

Another aside:

So, we were walking down the street, chatting about life and such, and we passed a little alley. A man was standing there facing the wall. We knew what he was doing, but our bodies moved faster than our brains. It's like watching a train wreck - it just happens. You can't turn away. So Tricia and I both turned automatically towards the guy to see what he was doing.....and we got an EYEFULL. Seriously.

Our entire lunch cost just 9.5 Euros total, including the wine and dessert. We weren’t necessarily full, as we hadn’t eaten much of our second course. We went back into the streets where everything was closed and made our way back to the aqueduct. We climbed all the way up to the top and traded photo duties with a couple of Americans from Texas and then walked North to see the second half of the city.

Finally, we stopped at a bar to try the other Segovian “must-have” - super thick hot chocolate! We were a little surprised that the bar tender made it from a mix, but then he added milk and mixed it with the latte machine, so it did turn out dark and thick and chocolatey. By this time it was 5, and the Siesta was ending, so I ran into a camera shop to see what could be done about my camera. There was a young girl working there, which made me a bit sad (I’m both anti-feminist and ageist when it comes to electronics, and some other things which will remain nameless). Not only did she not try to fix it, she said I would need to leave Segovia to find someone that would be able to do it for me. L

Tricia and I had seen about all of Segovia, so we hopped the bus back to the train station. We didn’t know what time the trains left, and when we arrived we realized that we have only 15 minutes before the next train with a 2 hour wait if we missed it! And they stopped selling tickets 10 minutes before the train left. We got in line, but it wasn’t looking good. I asked an attendant if we would make it, and she seemed optimistic. I tried to impress on her that we would not make the 10 minute deadline that was posted all over the station, and she said something about 2 minutes. (I speak Spanish much much much better than I understand it.) When we got to the front of the line, we had about 7 minutes before the train left, but we were still able to purchase our tickets, and then we set off running for the platform. We shoved our bags through the X-ray machine and then jumped on the train with minutes to spare!

(I don´t have pics of the pastries,
since we didn´t have my camera)

Back in Madrid, Tricia and I found a shop that sold pastries, so we bought some to share with our hosts t next morning for breakfast. We also shared a sandwich, since it was 7:00 and dinner in Spain is around 10. And then we made our way back on the metro to our hosts’ flat 45 minutes outside of downtown.

See the columns in my glasses?

Once there, we both pulled out our computers. Tricia looked at hostels and things to do in Toledo and Cordoba and I researched cameras. Jose helped us both - he looked through several camera sites and found that my camera was 129 Euros everywhere, and he also found reviews on the camera so I knew which ones not to buy. And he showed Tricia sites to use to find cheap airfare, cheap hotels, and cheap lodging in peoples’ houses. (Ever heard of airbnb.com? Me neither!! People rent out their guestrooms like a hotel. How cool is that?) And he told us which cities in the North of Spain were his favorite - so we may be changing our trip a bit to include some time in the North. Then I played with little Camin for a while, who is very sweet and let me hold her.

Cinderella´s castle

At about 10 Jose, Sole, Tricia and I ate dinner - salad and toasted baguette with ham and another with red peppers, onion, eggplant, and anchovies. Tricia didn’t realize they were anchovies until she’d already eaten them, and I was careful not to mention it until they were gone. J And then our eyes were drooping and we decided we needed to go to bed - getting up at 7 without a siesta is crazy!

5/4/11 - Another Day in Madrid

2011-05-08T14:40:00.000-07:00

Pictures

Wednesday we slept in and lazed around until about 11, eating oatmeal from America and looking at hostels in Andalucia, so it was noon when the train dropped us off downtown. During the hour long train ride I pulled out my computer and blogged for a while. Once downtown, we went off to find the Conte Duque (pronounced Doo-Kay but which we pronounced Duke) which is a barracks that had been converted into a cultural center with a library and museum. The place was being fully renovated when we arrived, and even some of the security guards were wearing hard hats. Workers had built scaffolding around much of the building and concrete blocks were everywhere in the courtyard. There was a security guard in uniform at the door, and we asked whether the library was open. He pointed us through the door, and we went off happily into the empty and deserted buildings. I said the security guard wasn’t very good - he’d let us walk right in!!

After a while of weaving into and out of the barracks (where there was nothing at all to see because all the furniture had been removed), we eventually came out into the courtyard. It was becoming clear that we weren’t really supposed to be there, and when we passed another entrance, the security guards ran after us. They said the place was closed. One asked if we were tourists (touristas) and the other rolled his eyes and said of course they’re tourists. And they ushered us out of the barracks.

This took until about 12:25, and we wanted to have lunch nearby, but the place didn’t open until 1:15. We wandered through the little cobblestone streets for a while and then found the Plaza Espana. We sat in the shade of the trees around a fountain along with many others who were taking an early Siesta. We blogged a bit, and then made our way back to the restaurant.

The restaurant’s name was Los Dos Fogones. Many restaurants in Spain feature a lunch menu which is around 10 Euros and gives a drink, an appetizer, an entrée, and dessert. Tricia and I sat down in the cute little restaurant and found an outlet to plug in my computer. The nice and very patient waitress helped us translate the menu (since the lunch changes every day at the chef’s whim, it isn’t translated into English). We ordered two lunches, getting one wine and one beer, salad with potatoes (not to be confused with potato salad), fish soup with ham (thick like tomato soup but served cold), cous cous, codfish with peas, fried bread with honey, and mojito sorbet served in a glass with a straw. We couldn’t finish most of it, and decided next time to see if they would let us share.

By the time we’d finished all our courses it was past 3, so we walked over to the Royal Palace. It is free all day Wednesday, but unfortunately everyone in Madrid had the same idea and the line was around the corner and well down the block. Unlike the line at the Reina Sofia, this one didn’t move hardly at all. People had their passports out as well, and we were worried that we wouldn’t be able to get in since I didn’t have mine with me. I walked to the front and asked a man who had come out of the palace to smoke whether I needed the passport. He said Americans were fine without it, so that was good. In the line (which took 45 minutes) we again pulled out our computers to pass the time. When we finally got to the front, the man in front of me pulled out a copy of his passport. “Ha, that’s brilliant!!” I have copies of my passport everywhere, and showed a copy to security. (I’m pretty sure the man with the passport copy was American and understood my exclamations of his intelligence as he was wearing a Cleveland Indians t-shirt.)

Once inside the museum we were corralled into a line and could only walk through roped-off sections of the rooms. It was fairly crowded, but we were able to see all the tapestries and ornately painted ceilings and furniture where the royal family had lived. We even got to see the room where Charles III had died in bed. Most of the rooms were very masculine - covered in red and black or blue tapestries and with dark wood or black furniture and even black statues. Interestingly, some of the rooms were devoted to other countries - there was a Chinese room with black lacquered pictures and tapestries covered in lotus blossoms and storks. There was also a Roman room with white Roman statues. Finally, there was a “porcelain room” where the walls were entirely made of porcelain. They were built in square pieces with vines and flowers covering all the joints.

It was nearly 6 when we were through visiting the palace, so we jumped on the metro and went to the Prado, which is free from 6 to 8 every day. There was a long line here as well, but it moved very quickly and we were inside within minutes. As in the palace, pictures were not allowed in the Prado. It is full of older paintings, many of which are Catholic in nature. We saw tons of paintings of Mary and the infant Jesus, the Immaculate Conception, the Crucifixion, Mary Magdalene, the saints, and the apostles. Some of the artists were creative though - in one painting of Mary, Joseph, and Jesus, the artist modeled Joseph after himself, Mary after his wife, and Jesus after his baby daughter, with the onlookers modeled after his parents and in-laws. In another painting, an angel visiting 4 women at a well provided an opportunity for the artist to paint a scene from his hometown in Andalucia. Many paintings which were supposed to tell religious stories also showed scenes from the artists’ own lives.

At 10 to 8 an alarm went off throughout the building and the guards immediately began ushering us out. I initially thought it was a fire alarm, but then realized it went off every day so they would have 10 minutes to chase us out of the museum. Once outside, we decided we should take a walk down the Calle de Fuencarral which was full of cute clothing stores and cafes. We passed an ice cream shop and each had a scoop of brownie ice cream in a giant cone. We sat by a fountain in the Plaza de Sol with our cones and took pictures of all the people still out at 10 at night. Then we grabbed a couple of slices of ham and cheese pizza (they love ham here) and hopped back on the metro. We returned to Jose and Sole’s apartment and sat up chatting for a bit, and then we planned our day trip into Segovia.

Madrid - 5/3/11

2011-05-08T14:26:00.000-07:00

Pictures!

As we’d gone to sleep after 4, I didn’t stir when the other girls got up and dressed and out. However, the 6^th girl turned on the light at 9 when she got up, and I started awake. I was not thrilled at her rudeness as I’d only been asleep 4.5 hours and we had been really quiet when we’d come in. Tricia and I went down to breakfast and had toast and cereal and hot chocolate. Tricia had all of these at once in the form of Nutella and Corn Flakes on toast. And then I went back to bed and tried to sleep until 11 when we had to check out, but it was too stuffy in the room and since I was in the top bunk I didn’t want to climb down to turn on the fan. So I eventually gave up and packed up my backpack and dragged it down the stairs. We left our bags at the desk and went off to find chocolate and churros (which you are supposed to eat at sunrise after staying up all night, but unfortunately the chocolateria was closed from 2 am to 8 am so we had to return after sleeping.

We couldn’t find the same chocolateria we had passed several times, but stumbled upon a smaller one with outdoor booths nestled into the little alley between buildings. We each got a mug of liquid chocolate and a plate of churros and went to town. It was delicious, but afterward I think we both felt ready to give up chocolate for a while.

Before leaving the hostel we had checked the weather. Sunday and Monday were supposed to rain, so we had schlepped umbrellas and jackets around all day but the rains never came. It had even been too warm for our jackets. Tuesday didn’t call for rain, just a warm sunny day. So we left the jackets and umbrellas. Halfway through our churros, it began to get windy, and soon the sky was sprinkling lightly on us. We moved under an umbrella (which was more for the sun than the rain but did provide some protection) to finish eating and then hurried back to the hostel just as the sky let loose and the rain really began coming down in big heavy drops. A few minutes after we were safely inside, it was pouring, along with thunder and lightening. So we set up camp in the lobby of the hostel we were no longer staying at and planned some more of our trip.

Reenactment

Once it stopped raining we decided to take a long stroll in the direction of the biblioteca (library). You may remember the biblioteca as the place I slept my first day in Madrid. After going through security, we tried to find the library portion of the building. We quickly learned (after being turned away by security) that the National Library is actually only for government officials. So we had to make do with the public sections, which were the museum and two art exhibits.

We walked quickly through the first exhibit, which was devoted to various Spanish advertisements through the years. Next we hit the museum, which was much bigger than I’d first thought. I showed Tricia where I’d slept the first day in the theater. The movie was actually quite funny - it looked about 40 years old and was in black and white. The camera panned over the books and architecture and did very little else. We also saw old printing presses, music players (like the phonograph), and a timeline of how printing has evolved through the ages.

The final exhibit was on art from Latin America. It was colorful and depicted commentaries on war and corruption as well as on the people and the culture.

We left the biblioteca and rushed back to our hostel to pick up our bags and get on the metro. On the way we passed the National Archeological Museum and stopped inside for 20 minutes. We saw fossils, sculptures, and pottery from Spain’s history. The coolest thing (to me) was a earthen pot that had been used as a burial chamber and still contained the bones and some possessions of the deceased.

We were heading to our host family, who we’d met on Couch Surfing. The metro took an hour, and we had to transfer from the subway to an above ground train. We had beautiful views from the train. When we arrived, we had some trouble finding the place, but we stopped a friendly man with a baby and he pointed us in the right direction.

Upstairs in the apartment, we met Jose, Sole, and their five-month-old baby Camin. They are learning English, but they can speak it better than we can speak Spanish, so with a little help from the translator app on Tricia’s iPhone we managed to communicate pretty well. Jose showed us pictures from his vacation in Morocco and recommended we visit there next. J

At 10, we had dinner. Sole made noodle soup, a Muslim tapa that was toasted bread with meat that tasted like pepperoni, and big salads with lettuce, tomato, olives, crabmeat, beets, carrots, cucumbers, and corn. For dessert we had pear and kiwi. They were very welcoming and gave us a spare room with two twin beds and even let us sleep in when they left in the morning.

Madrid - 5/2/11

2011-05-08T13:50:00.000-07:00

Pictures!

Tricia’s alarm woke us at 9. Once again, I wanted to scrunch my eyes closed and go back to sleep. It took a few minutes, but I managed to drag myself up. I didn’t bother to get dressed, but just threw a jacket over my pajamas. The guy at the desk did a double take and then laughed - I was wearing a bright pink terry cloth jacket and bright orange pj pants with little black cats on them. “I wanted to make an entrance!” He laughed some more as I passed him and went into the kitchen.

Between Tricia and I, we sampled everything they had to offer, from the toast with Nutella, to the corn flakes, to the oatmeal and raisins. We both made the now traditional coffee/milk/hot chocolate mixture. It was marginally better than the coffee at the previous hostel. Ironically, after breakfast we had nothing to do until 11:45, when we were planning to take a free 3 hour tour, again with the patrons of the nearby hostels. This gave us amble time to shower, blow dry the hair, blog a bit, and re-organize our bags into easy-to-find sections. This is important when you’re literally living out of a suitcase.

At 11:45 we met up with our guide who had already picked up some interested tourists. By the time we got to the beginning of the tour, we had gathered 50 people. Our guide was Harriett, a Londoner who had moved to Madrid and was teaching English and giving guided tours. In addition to the normal problems inherent to speaking loudly enough to be heard by a group of 50 outdoors in a bustling city, May 2 is another holiday in Madrid and the Plaza del Sol was completely packed with people and the street was closed for a parade. They had even set up bleachers along the road for the onlookers. Harriett gave up on talking to us in the Plaza once the band started to play, and we moved on.

Once we were away from the bands and the throngs of people, Harriett told us about the Plaza del Sol. It means “gate of the sun,” and the plaza had once held the gate to the entrance of Madrid. However, once the king began expanding the borders of Madrid, the city walls and the gate were knocked down. So it’s been centuries since there was a gate there, but it is still called the Plaza del Sol.

There is a statue in the plaza that is the icon for Madrid. It is a bear reaching up into a tree to eat its fruit. It turns out that the tree bears fruit that actually ferments on the tree itself, so the bear is eating the fruit to get drunk. And this is the symbol for Madrid. J

Also in the plaza is a clock tower that is the official time keeper for all of Spain. This means that on New Year’s Eve, all of Spain watches on television as this clock count down to midnight. The Plaza del Sol also plays an important part in protests in Spain. In 2005 over a million people gathered to protest the impending legalization of gay marriage. And in one of the biggest protests, 2.2 million people gathered to protest the government joining in the invasion of Iraq. The population of Madrid is only 4 million, so this was an impressive feat. In both these instances, the government ignored the protestors, and Spain became the fourth nation to legalize gay marriage, and only the second to end all legal discriminations as well (such as adoption, etc). Spain also had the third largest number of troops in Iraq at one point in the war.

We went over to the Royal Palace next, which was built in the 1700’s after the new king of Spain arrived from France and found out that he was expected to live in a fortress left over from the Moors centuries earlier. The people, however, loved the fortress, and didn’t want him to tear it down. Soon after the king arrived, the fortress “mysteriously” burned to the ground, and he began construction on a new palace in the more traditional European style popular at the time.

Right next to the palace is the austere Almudena Cathedral, which is the closest religious institution to a political institution in the world. It’s front is plain and simple - since it is right next to the palace, they needed to make sure not to try to outdo the royal architecture. However, if you walk to the other side of the valley and look at the back of the cathedral, it sits on a hillside and you cannot see the palace, so the back is ornate with columns and statues and looks very beautiful.

At one point in Madrid’s history, the capitol city was moved overnight from Toledo to Madrid. No one knows why, but they weren’t prepared for all the nobles who came with the royalty, and they had no housing for any of them. To deal with this, they imposed a tax on all the locals in Madrid that was so high, no one would be able to pay. But, if they had an extra room in their house, they could move their family into the room and let a noble family take over the rest of the house. This tax lasted for 200 years. Some of the buildings built around this time are called “malicious houses” because they were built to disguise the number of rooms inside. People were sent to count the windows on houses to see if there was room for a noble family, so builders put windows between floors and left out windows to make the house look smaller. The house in the picture actually has 5 stories.

Finally, we stopped at the Plaza Mayor. In Madrid, everyone drank wine instead of water, so the people who owned the wineries were becoming very wealthy, which made the nobles angry. So the king imposed a 75% tax on the income made from selling wine. He had so much extra money coming in from this tax that he gave some to the people to build a community center - the Plaza Mayor. It actually was built from wood, and apparently burnt to the ground and was rebuilt several times before the king insisted it be built out of stone. Now, it is a tourist center - one of the buildings is a tourism office and it is full of restaurants and souvenir shops.

By the time the tour ended, we were getting hungry, so we headed back to the Plaza Mayor to try some paella. We sat outside in the sun and shared a 5 Euro plate of paella, and managed to get the waiter to give us tap water - one of the benefits of eating in a tourist trap. At local places they won’t give you tap water. The paella was very good, and we decided to head back to the hostel afterwards for siesta. We had jelly beans and a bottle of wine Tricia had from her flight on AirFrance, so we had a little party while we blogged about the day. Then we had a little nap. J

After siesta, we hurried to the Reina Sofia for the free evening from 7 to 9 pm. We got a little turned around and lost, but with Tricia’s handy iPhone app and some directions from passersby we eventually made it. It is the modern art museum in Madrid, and we were particularly interested in Salvidor Dali and Picasso. After an hour in the museum, we’d had our fill of modernism and meandered back to the hostel. On the way, we grabbed another couple of ham and cheese sandwiches from the museum of ham. It’s keeping us fed while we’re in Madrid.

The hostels in the area were hosting a “drinking game” social, so we headed there next. There we found a bucket of Sangria (poured from a box) and 12 or so other travelers playing Kings. If you haven’t ever played - you draw a card from the deck, and each card corresponds to a rule. You also make rules up as you go along. At one point, Tricia and I stood on our chairs and drank our Sangria without touching the glass to our lips (we ended up as “mates”, so we each had to do whatever the other did), somehow managing not to spill all over ourselves. The goal of the game is to eventually draw all 4 kings from the deck. Whoever drew the fourth king would get to go out for free that night. Between Tricia and I, we drew the first 4 kings, but didn’t manage to get the last.

At about 11:30 we went out on a pub crawl. This cost us 10 Euros, but we got to have a drink at each of the four bars for free. At the first bar, I had a beer and Tricia had another Sangria, and we danced and talked to the people we’d met (many from Canada, and some from Ohio as well). At the second bar we got a shot of Tequila. At the third I didn’t get the name of the shot. As we spent an hour at each place, it was around 3:30 when we finally dragged ourselves home to our hostel. Somewhere along the way I lost one of my brand new earrings, as per usual. This is why I only spend one dollar on my jewelry. We again used our flashlights to find our toothbrushes and pajamas, as none of the other 6 girls had stayed out so late and were asleep. It was a great second day in Madrid!

Madrid 5/1/11

2011-05-08T13:32:00.000-07:00

In the morning Rebecca’s alarm went off at 9:30, but no one in the room was ready to get out of bed. After the first time the snooze alarm went off, our two French roommates roused themselves. After the second snooze alarm Rebecca and I managed to get up as well. We hurried to pack and get ourselves ready so we could eat breakfast at 10:15 before it closed down at 10:30. We had toast with butter and jam, packaged pastries, corn flakes, OJ, water, milk, and the worst coffee ever. I even made it with half coffee, half milk, some sugar, and a spoonful of hot chocolate mix. And it was still bad.

Pictures!!

We hurried back to our room and I grabbed my bag and the sheets from the hostel and we exchanged contact info and said our good-byes. I had told Tricia I would meet her between 10:30 and 11, and it was already 10:30, but I thought I’d make it by 11. Honestly, it would probably have been a 25 minute walk, but my directions were for the metro and I would have gotten lost had I tried to walk it. Even though the metro station was very close, I had to walk for a long time to get to the correct line. I got on the metro and went to the first station, Nuevos Ministerios. Then I looked at the next direction and realized I needed to go right back where I’d come from - my directions were from the airport, not my first hostel. So, I needed to get to the other side of the tracks, which is the single most difficult thing to do in a metro station. It involved several flights of stairs, up and down, and more walking to accomplish it. Three stops later, I needed to make another transfer, and there was another long walk and more stairs to get to the other line. By the time I finally reached my stop, it was 11:20. Luckily, the hostel was right near the metro station. I rushed in, interrupted the people checking in and asked for Tricia Welly, and found her set up in the kitchen where the wireless signal actually worked. She was quite happy to see me, as I’m usually a fairly punctual person!

Since check in wasn’t until 3, we stored our bags behind the desk and went out to see the city. It was beautiful today, nothing like the rainy cold of yesterday. The sun was out and it was quite warm most of the time. We tied our jackets around our waists and wondered if just doing that was enough to mark us as tourists.

Sundays in Madrid there is a giant street market called El Rastro. We went up and down streets crowded with people shopping and selling everything from clothes to nail clippers to swords. We considered scarves for 1 Euro and tops for 10 Euros. I tried on a light jacket, but they didn’t have my size. Near the end of the market, I decided to buy a Pashmina wrap for 2 Euros. Tricia and I were there for about 15 minutes discussing the pros and cons of the various colors at length. My jacket is pink, and my nice top is black. We finally decided to ignore the jacket, as the only things that go with pink are black, white, and grey. It then came down to light blue or rust. I wrapped a black pashmina around me like a shirt, and then wrapped the blue and rust around me to see which looked best. We finally decided on the rust. The saleslady was quite patient throughout this process.

Since Tricia had only had a granola bar for breakfast, we decided we should find something to eat. We wandered into a little pastry shop and considered the chocolate covered scones and biscuits, but finally decided on “real” food. There were a kind of savory pie in the case, and we asked the lady what was inside. “Jamon y queso, y espinacas y mozzarella”. Okay, so one is ham and cheese, and the other is mozzarella and something else. Tricia took the ham and cheese and I took the mozzarella and mystery Spanish word, and we paid 1.8 Euros each ($2.70). Espinacas turned out to be spinach, and they were very good. J

It was almost 3, so we went back to the hostel to get our room. I was debating wearing my pack correctly or just heaving it onto one shoulder, so I asked the guy which floor our room was on, and he told us it was on the sixth. With no elevator. I sighed and buckled the pack to my waist. He says, “no no no, I’ll carry it!” I told him I wasn’t going to have him drag my 30 pound bag up 6 flights of stairs. I also told him to see if Tricia would let him carry hers, and he said he could carry them both. I told him we’d switch with him on the third floor, and we headed up, with him grumbling that he’d never had to beg to carry someone’s bags for them. It turns out the building only has two floors, so we realized he’d only told us we were on the sixth floor so we’d give him our bags!

Our room had 4 bunk beds, but we were the only ones there. We crossed our fingers that the other 6 beds would remain empty for the night. When I left the room, my key wouldn’t work to get back in. I finally knocked so Tricia would open the door, then tried her key too. Hers wouldn’t work either, so I finally went downstairs to ask at the desk for new keys. Back upstairs, the keys still didn’t work, so I went down again (at least I’ll have strong calf muscles). The guy finally realized that the batteries were dying on the card reader, so he followed me upstairs with a screwdriver and a package of batteries. As he took the entire gizmo apart, we left him to his work and went out to see the free evening at the Prado Museum of Art.

Unfortunately, it turns out that May 1 is a holiday in Madrid, so the Prado was closed. There were a lot of people relaxing on the grass in front of the building - probably having planned on going to the Prado as well and deciding to make the most of the sunshine since they were already there. We chose to walk to the Parque del Retiro. This is a huge and beautiful park, which was packed with people taking walks after their siesta. We saw jugglers, dancers, puppetiers, and magicians performing on the street. We stopped for a while at the Copiara dancers, which is basically a sort of choreographed fighting. One person swings a punch as the other ducks, or one person kicks as another jumps. We walked along a tree-lined path next to a rectangular-shaped lake filled with row-boats. All along the lake people were selling various wares, from DVD’s to watches to jewelry to underwear. I stopped and bought some twisty earrings for 1 Euro and Tricia bought a Magnum ice cream cone.

On the way back to our hostel we stopped at a chain called Museo de Jamon (Museum of Ham) and picked up sandwiches for 1 Euro each. Tricia got a chorizo sandwich, and I had a sort of unprocessed ham and cheese on a croissant. We took it to the Plaza Mayor near our hostel to people watch and eat. The Plaza Mayor is an extremely touristy public square, filled with restaurants where you sit outside, shops selling traditionally kitschy Spanish wares, and people trying to make a buck dressed as living statues, Mickey Mouse, or Spongebob, or Flamenco dancing or playing instruments.

By this time it was after 8, and we hurried back to the hostel to get ready to see Flamenco dancing at 9. It is a special event put on by the hostels, so everyone in the audience was a tourist. By the time we’d collected people from the various hostels, we were a group of about 15. We were led into the basement of a building, where there was a small stage and strange stools of varying heights and, for some reason, mannequin legs hanging from the ceiling. We all got a free drink with admission, so Tricia and I sipped on red wine and chatted with some Londoners (everyone’s a Londoner - between the holiday and the royal wedding, people there have a lot of time off work right now).

The Flamenco dancer was stuck in traffic, so around 9:45 her band and a singer took the stage to occupy us until she could arrive. They played guitars and one kept the beat on a box drum. The dancer finally made it at about 10:30, and showed us the traditional Flamenco dances (which, it turns out, are leftover from the gypsies who lived here in the 1400’s).

Afterwards we went back to the hostel - it was well after 11, and though some people were doing a bar crawl, we decided to head back and save the party for another night. We spent some time in the lobby eating and checking our computers before heading upstairs, and when we finally did go up there were two other girls in the room already asleep. So we tiptoed around in the dark with flashlights gathering our pajamas and toothbrushes and putting our computers away in the lockers. We laid down and listened to the people in the street below still partying in the city that doesn’t sleep.

Being sleepy in Madrid - 4/30/11

2011-05-01T08:02:00.000-07:00

Link to pics!

By 10:30 I was getting hungry, so I asked at reception if there was a bakery nearby. She looked at me blankly and said, “You mean like bread?” Well, I meant more like pastries….. She sent me to a nearby bar instead. (At 10:30? Apparently the bars never close.) I scanned the little room as I walked in, and saw a picture of a blue pitcher. It made me laugh out loud - my mom has the exact same picture in her kitchen in Florida!!

I decided on a vegetable sandwich, with some words I understood and some I didn’t. It turned out to have white asparagus, lettuce, tomato, and hard boiled eggs. Pretty good. I wasn’t sure about tipping, so pulled out the Frommers as I sat there. They recommended 5%, so I left some change as my sandwich was only about 3 Euros to begin with. I think I left 70 cents.

I returned to the hostel to catch the 11:30 tour, but the tour guide never came. I was falling asleep by 11:50, so I gave up on the tour guide and wandered out into the cold rainy day by myself (I later learned the tour guide did eventually arrive). I decided to make my way to the biblioteca, or library. During the short walk, I passed two Starbucks (I turned around at the second one to see if I could still see the first one), as well as a Taco Bell, a Burger King, a Tony Roma’s, and the “American Restaurant”, which had been there since 1971.

At the library I learned that there was a library museum as well. There was security at the door and I had to go through a scanner (like at the airport) and put my bags through the x-ray machine. I asked the guard if the museum was free (“Esta libre?”) and he said yes. I don’t know whether it was actually free, as I found out later that libre means available (as in, “is the bathroom free?”). I should have said “esta gratis?” But I thought it was free, and so I didn’t actually stop at the desk on the way in. Hopefully it really was.

Not that I saw much of the museum, as I had now been up for 24 straight hours. My eyes were glazing over. And then I turned a corner, and there was a room with a movie playing. Probably about libraries. I couldn’t tell you. I happily sat down in the last seat of the last row, wrapped my arms around my backpack, and proceeded to fall asleep. An hour later a security guard found me and woke me up. I was probably snoring. J

I wandered back through the spitting rain to the hostel, hoping they would let me in at 2. Finally, at 2:30, the girls cleaning the room radioed to the desk that there were finished, and I could go up. Even though I was really really really tired, I decided that I should take a shower instead of waiting until the morning and needing to fight the other 3 girls for it. As I was gathering my things, the girl who was sharing my bunk walked in. We introduced ourselves - her name is Rebecca, she’s from Austin, and she’s spending the next 4 months in Spain to learn Spanish. She also just got back from teaching in Thailand, so we have a lot in common. Rebecca is a couch surfer too, and she invited me to go out to dinner with her and some local CSers. I asked her to wake me at 8 (dinner is super-late in Spain), and went off to shower and then to sleep.

A little after 8 Rebecca asked if I wanted to come or to sleep more. I sort of wanted to sleep, but I didn’t want to be wide awake at 2 am either, so I got up and got dressed for dinner. I forgot my camera (darn lack of sleep!!) so don’t have pictures unfortunately.

Rebecca and I didn’t know what any of the people we were meeting looked like, only that the organizer was a Spanish lady and she was hosting a guy from New York. So every couple that loitered on the street got scrutinized by us. “Could he be from New York?” “He looks more German, but that doesn’t really mean anything.” “Well, does it look like they just met, or like they know each other well?” Finally though, we met up with the right group. There ended up being 9 of us, including Spanish, American, Portuguese, Chinese, and Irish, and Italian.

We went to a tapas place for dinner called La Bardemcilla. The organizer took the menu and ordered in Spanish, so each dish was a surprise for many of us. We had fried potatoes and cheese (which were amazing), meatballs in sauce, grilled veggies, salad with fried onions and tuna fish, skewered beef and peppers, sliced potatoes (sort of like au gratin), wrinkled potatoes (small boiled potatoes), and, the piece de resistance, something called “between the legs”. We three Americans asked them to hold off on telling us what it was until we’d eaten it. It tasted like burnt beef. Like, if you were grilling hamburgers and burnt them and scraped the burnt part into a dish and ate it. Not terrible. Just not something you’d usually actually eat. It turned out to be curdled cow’s blood mixed with flour. Mmmm!

When we left after 11 the place was packed and people were waiting to be seated! The nine of us met up with three more, and the 12 of us somehow found ourselves in an Irish bar listening to a band called Sheriff Warren sing songs like “Proud Mary” and “Sweet Home Alabama”. I had planned to duck out after dinner, but was enjoying singing to songs that I knew. Most of the people wanted to find a club though, so we eventually went back out into the rain to find somewhere more upbeat. After stopping at several clubs and not going in due to lines or cover charges, we finally ended up at a club. Their repertoire of songs included “Mambo Number 5” and Spice Girls tracks, but it was apparently a step up. J I didn’t actually have any interest in clubbing though, and as it was 1:30 in the morning and I had only slept 4ish hours in the past 36, I thought maybe I should go to bed. Rebecca’s eyes were looking droopy too, so we said good-bye and made our way back to our hostel. The streets were just as crowded as they had been during the day - the bars never close and the city never sleeps!

On the way, we passed by a sweet shop (with the slogan “Good sweets for big kids”.) There were a couple of people on ladders taping sheets to the front of the store. The sheets had been spray painted - it was some sort of protest. Rebecca doesn’t speak much Spanish, so I tried to translate it for us. I got that the protesters thought the owners were frauds. And then the other sheet…. “Son los finlandeses…” They’re, what, Finnish?? “No son suecos!” I asked one of the on-lookers if he knew what “suecia” meant in English. “Sweden.” Ooooh….the protesters were mad that the shop was passing its treats off as Swedish!! What a funny thing to protest.

Rebecca and I arrived back at our hostel at 2 in the morning and tip-toed around in the dark as our other two roommates were already fast asleep. I kept my computer up in my bunk with me so I could check the time in the morning, put on my sleep mask to block out the sun that would be coming up in four hours, and tried to go to sleep myself. Of course, since my body thought it was 8 at night, this wasn’t the easiest thing to do, but I finally managed.

Welcome to Madrid - 4/30/11

2011-04-30T01:24:00.000-07:00

Hello from Madrid!! I am sitting in the computer room of my hostel, and it is 10:04 here. My flight landed at 7:30, and it took me this long to get everything together and get here. But here I am!

International flights are actually rather nice. Everyone gets their own little tv with free movies and tv shows, they serve dinner and breakfast, and they give you free wine and beer. So while I was watching Tangled (thumbs up), I enjoyed a merlot, a salad with cesear dressing, a roll with butter, a piece of cheese, and chicken with veggies and risotto. Oh, and a brownie with an Oreo baked into it, which was kind of fun. After Tangled I watched How Do You Know, which is just okay. But perfectly entertaining if you really don't have much else to do because you're strapped to a chair at 30,000 feet. Next up was It's Kind of a Funny Story, about a kid that checks himself into a mental institution. Fairly skippable. And then Somewhere, which I really wanted to see because the previews looked good and it has Elle Fanning in it. Watch the previews and skip the movie. Literally nothing happens in this movie. At all. Every scene is a two to four minute long clip of someone doing nothing. Like cooking. Or lounging by the pool. Or driving. If all the dialogue was strung together it would last all of five minutes. I kept waiting for the movie to get started. I didn't believe it could really be that awful for 97 minutes, but it managed.

So, with this final marathon movie session before my tv hiatus, I didn't get much (any) sleep. I tried before Somewhere. But it's impossible. I'm too tall to sleep on the tray table like the kid next to me. And everything else is just horrible. So, it's 4:14 am Florida time, and I've been up since 7. Check-in's at 3, aka 9 Florida time. So, I'll have been up for 26 hours before I even get the chance to sleep. Luckily, when it's daytime outside your brain gets tricked into thinking it should be awake. :)

Customs was a breeze in Madrid. I only needed one stamp, and the guy barely glanced at me! Which is good, because 3 years ago I had not one but two customs agents not believe that I was the girl in the picture, and I've only changed more since then. But in Asia it was always one stamp exiting the US and another stamp entering the new country. So the one stamp thing surprised me. Then, I grabbed my bag from baggage claim and spent quite a while getting all the straps out and attaching the little bag to the big bag. I found an ATM and got some Euros, and then walked about 4 miles to the terminal in the airport that's attached to the metro. Past all the backpackers who slept in the airport overnight waiting for their morning flight - or whatever their story was, but I passed several of them. The metro was also uneventful. And then I exited the metro. And needed to find the street my hotel was on. And really, really wished I had a map. I ended up asking 3 different people for directions, going up and down streets, turning around in circles. Finally, the third person I asked (a street cleaner) pulled out a map! Hurray! A minute later I had my bearings. Back the way I'd came, make a right, then the third left, and voila!

Of course, I can't check in until 3, but they stowed my bag for me, and there's a tour I'm going to take at 11:30 where I'll see all the "must-sees of Madrid". It will take 3 hours. And then I will probably fall asleep. :)

Oh, and I have a funny story. So there are a couple of girls who were also stowing their bags the same time I was. I paid with my Capital One card, and the receptionist gushed about how cool it is that it has my picture on it - the one taken in Philly with me in the Monopoly wheelbarrow. While we were stowing our luggage, the American girls asked if I was from Philly, and I told them I was from Madison. Wouldn't you know they're all students at UW, and one of them works at the brand new Hilton, where our former company frequently books rooms for potential employees. They are literally the first people I've spoken to (in English at least) since I left my parents yesterday. Small world.

So, until next time!

Blogging in the Atlanta Airport - 4/29/11

2011-04-30T01:02:00.000-07:00

So, as I am sitting in the Atlanta airport with no internet access (props to Orlando Airport for providing free wi-fi and being awesome), I am reflecting on my packing. I wish I had remembered my earplugs. I thought about them last night in bed, but was too tired to get up and set them out. Five minutes earlier I had gotten out of bed and taken out the little plastic case for my camera battery, so with the earplugs I just chanted them in my head hoping I’d remember when I woke up. I’m also remembering how I said earlier that my “dressy” outfit consisted of a sarong and black t-shirt. I should have traded an “everyday” tank top for a slightly nicer tank top. But oh well, se la vi. Most interestingly, since I left my cell phone in Florida, I will never know what time it is. I may have to buy a watch. When you wake up in the morning, it’s really important to know whether it’s 6:30 or 9:30.

I will now proceed to tell you the story of the Lonely Planet. On April 19, I went on Amazon and bought the Frommers guide, a travel adaptor, and a Lonely Planet guide. My total came to $13. $11.20 of this was shipping. Seriously. Since I’ve mailed books before, and they take no time at all to arrive at their destination, I didn’t think I needed to pay expedited shipping. So the Frommers and the adaptor both appeared on my doorstep on Saturday, the 23^rd. By Wednesday, I was getting a little concerned about the Lonely Planet. This is not just any guide, it’s “Lonely Planets Guide to Europe on a Shoestring Budget.” So you can see how this appealed to me.

Wednesday night, at 5, I decided to buy another copy and pay for overnight shipping. Now, if you apply for Amazon’s preferred status (or whatever - I have no internet, I can’t look it up), overnight shipping of Amazon items is $3.99. The cheapest Amazon copy was $4.24, plus the $4 shipping.

By 2 pm the next day, the mail had arrived, but still no book (books now). I went online again - hadn’t they guaranteed overnight shipping?? The status of the package was delivered. Huh? Oh….it shipped to Wisconsin. To where I lived 2 addresses ago. Apparently Amazon has saved my address, and even though I have shipped to my Florida address more than once since then, it still thinks I live there. So, this is the reason that I have no Lonely Planet with me in Europe. That’s okay - it was a brick too, and it would have needed to be chopped into little tiny pieces to make the cut in my luggage. J

Update: I've just received word that the first Lonely Planet arrived today. Oh well.

Last day stateside :)

2011-04-29T09:40:00.001-07:00

Hello again all! So, after a 5 week hiatus (some of which was spent catching up on the U.S. portion of the blog and some of which was spent preparing for the Europe portion of the trip), I am back again. Tricia has been keeping us posted on Reunion Island, and this weekend we will reunite in Madrid and join forces. Watch out Europe!

So, I am sitting in Orlando International Airport waiting for my flight to Atlanta. I have way too much stuff. I tried to consolidate. Yesterday, when I realized my bag had shrunk to tiny and comical proportions, I ditched the dress, the sweater, two pairs of socks, 4 pairs of undies, several shirts, a pair of shorts, my travel pillow (so sad), and I went postal on my make up bag. I’m down to 4 items - concealer, powder, tinted moisturizer, and tinted powdered sunscreen (which I use every day when I’m going to be outside, so it’s a must-have). Also, the Frommer’s that I bought off Amazon for $4 got the axe, literally. My dad pulled out a giant knife and sawed the book into fifths - the portion on Spain, the portion on Italy, and the three portions before, after, and in between. I felt a little bad about it, but the thing’s 1500 pages long and weighs a ton.

So, my bag is down to toiletries, shower items (shampoo, little baby towel, washcloth), clothes, shoes (I need sneakers, right?) sleep-sheet and pj’s. I think that’s it. And yet it’s full and weighs 28 pounds. I also have a teensy tiny backpack, which is holding my teensy tiny computer and a bunch of food, and a purse with my ipod, camera, and necessary papers/passport/credit cards etc. Rick Stevens (who wrote a travel book) says to stay under 20 pounds, so I feel not that bad about 28. Plus, he didn’t bring a computer, he’s managing on ONE pair of shoes (I know I could get by with just the sneakers, but I’ll be infinitely happier with the sandals too), he stays in hotels so he doesn’t need shampoo or a sleep-sheet or pajamas, and he’s a guy, so his toiletry bag probably consists of deodorant, a toothbrush, and a razor. And every once in a while, I just might feel the need to look cute. Of course, if I want to look at all dressy, I’ll be wearing a sarong (men - think wrap-around skirt) and a black top. And flip-flops. And very little makeup. He did give me the idea for cutting up the travel book though, so kudos to him.

So that’s it. I breezed through the crazy long line at the Delta counter today when I called an agent aside and said in my sweetest little I’m-a-girl-don’t-you-want-to-help-me voice, “I already have a boarding pass, do I still need to wait in line just to check my bad?” *Smile.* He took me to the front and printed off my bag’s ticket in 2 seconds flat. Yay. J Security was quick too, and I must have a bit of a spring in my step today, because I chatted with the security guy for a while about Madrid and the weather there and how long I’ll be there. Or maybe he thinks I don’t look very trust worthy and was questioning my motives. One or the other.

Okay, getting set to board. Next time you hear from me, I’ll be on the other side. Theoretically. Cross your fingers!! J

Reunion Island trip

2011-04-23T23:51:00.001-07:00

Check out the rest of Tricia's Reunion Island trip here:
http://professionalvagabonders.wordpress.com/

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Tricia's last day in the USA for 11 weeks!

2011-04-20T08:34:00.001-07:00

Today started with some last minute packing and iTunes syncing before heading to bed. Sleep was not to be had as this is just too exciting. Do I sound silly? Why yes. Who cares, it's off on an adventure for me! Two weeks from a bungalow on an island and then nine from a backpack in Europe.

Packing for this trip was an adventure in itself. The first two weeks were difficult only in that we have no planned itinerary and excursions could range from fancy dinners to canyon hiking to laying around on the beach and everything in between. However, I had a full suitcase for guessing and so I'm hoping I brought enough variety. If not, yay for laundry :). For the rest of the trip, how to pack everything you need for nine weeks when you really have very little idea of the limits of excursion possibilities and you may be carrying everything you bring on your back for long periods of time? I must have packed and repacked a bajillion times, but ended up really happy with what I brought. We'll have to see how I feel about the stuff in a few weeks, though walking around the airports so far hasn't been too bad.

We got to the Detroit airport and realized that there were no restaurants to eat at outside of security and so Mom, Dad, Galen and I simply enjoyed some coffee and muffins, chatted a bit, took some pictures and soon said goodbye. The flight to Amsterdam was fairly uneventful. It was crazy dry in the plane, but chapstick and a lot of water helped with that. One highlight, free beer. The dinner they served also wasn't bad. There was a good number of movies/ tv shows/ games/ etc. to choose from, though we mostly snoozed and chatted. Well, I snoozed. Galen makes a good pillow :)

Soon the eight hour flight was almost over and we were admiring the morning lights of Amsterdam. A quick walk through the very nice airport and it was on to the next flight. One note, the restrooms are labeled "toilets" and the rooms, gentlemen and ladies rather than men and women. I also didn't realize that all of the signs would be in English, though the announcements were in a number of different languages and this took quite awhile. We were boarded before I heard English. We're currently waiting for a group of passengers from a delayed plane and then we can take off and begin day two!

I'm luckily sitting by some very nice women who are translating for me so I don't have to wait for the english updates. They're headed to Paris for a few days of shopping. How nice that everything is so close in Europe. Also interesting that they've been to New York city and found it to be very much like Amsterdam, but LA was completely different to them.

P.S. The internet connection is pretty spotty so I'll post when I can and put up the photo albums later.

Location:Toledo and Amsterdam

CarFax - 3/24/11

2011-04-10T08:07:00.000-07:00

So, I picked up my car in Peoria and drove it back to Madison. Here are the differences between my Camry and Tricia’s CRV:

* My steering, breaks, and gas are sensitive. They respond with just the slightest amount of force from me, and this is a bit disconcerting.
* My radio sucks. I already knew this, but it makes me sad. Although, turning it up as loud as it can go helps mitigate the sadness a little.
* I cannot change the volume by using my thumb on the steering wheel.
* I have no cruise control. This is also controlled by my thumb on the steering wheel, so both my thumbs keep looking for things to do.
* There is no temperature readout in my car. You have no idea how dependant you become on knowing this information at all times.
* My window washing fluid doesn’t work. L After being in a garage for 2 months, that would be useful. (I poured a bottle of water out on the windshield - that did the trick.)
* The shifter is in the center console, instead of on the steering console. So when I try to shift, I often turn on the windshield wipers.
* I do not have keyless entry.
* The driver's window goes down automatically, but not up automatically as in the CRV. I initially thought this was a bad idea. No wait, I still think this is a bad idea - I was twisted backwards in the passenger seat hanging out the window taking pictures and my hand was on the armrest and I accidentally put the window up and got caught in the window. Imagine how much worse it would have been if it was an automatic window! But one does get used to these things. Now when I pull away from a drive-through I need to drive, eat, and put the window up manually.
* My back has conformed to the CRV, and is not happy to be sitting against a different seat.
* My car is smaller, but I still think I’m in a big car. Other cars do not seem nearly as intimidated by me anymore.
* There is much less food in my car. This is sad.

But....I do get better gas milage. It's the little things. :)

Cleveland - 3/21/2011

2011-04-10T08:06:00.000-07:00

Day 47 pictures

We arrived in Cleveland at 2 in the morning and were greeted by a childhood friend of mine, Jessica. It had been way too long since we had chatted and the one hour of catch up was not enough, but would have to do. After a tour of her new home (beautifully decorated as always), we headed to the guest room for a short night's sleep. With it's rainy, gloomy sky, the morning greeting was not as nice as Jessica's had been. However, off to Cleveland we went. I realized I hadn't ever really taken any pictures of Cleveland despite living their for four years and so we started with a few skyline pictures before looking for parking. This was not the easiest task and we ended up just paying for a garage.

The tour of my college memories started on northside with the CIM (cleveland institute of music) building and north campus dorms. This was followed by a quick glance at the new dorms before heading towards the Mather quad where the non-engineering buildings are. We also saw the beautiful Harkness chapel where many a music major got sweaty palms. Next up was the student center (Thwing) and the library (KSL). Kat took some time to browse the bookstore as we have so many times this trip. The library actually had a pretty neat exhibit filled with old and new pictures of the campus that I really enjoyed. We finished up this section with a stop by the lagoon (where Kat walked among the geese) and Severance Hall, home of the Cleveland Orchestra (where I ran up a bunch of stairs).

We crossed Euclid avenue and come to the Allen Memorial Medical Library which holds a number of medical research books and a medical museum. Kat enjoyed the strange stories of the many birth control exhibits and I reminisced in some big comfy study chairs. By this point Kat was getting sick of my many college stories and so we moved quickly through the main quad and southside dorms and headed straight for the food. The walk to Coventry (food and shops) was longer than I remembered. Hm, maybe I'm no longer in as good shape as I was back then? I suppose seven weeks in the car might do that. We finally got there and spent a good while in a crazy toy store before heading into Tommy's for a sandwhich and some milkshakes. We split the sandwhich and it still kicked my butt. Boy were the milkshakes good though. They were also cold. And outside was cold. And getting colder. Brrrrrrr.

All that was left was a walk through Lakeview cemetery before heading back to the car and we walked rather briskly as the temperature seemed to be dropping rapidly. What happened to the warm California and Texas temperatures???? The cemetery is a beautiful place most of the time. Today, however, the rain and cold made it rather spooky. Not the most pleasant, but certainly made for interesting pictures. We admired the Garfield Monument from afar (fyi, it doesn't open until April), took a walk past the base of the dam and then around the ponds. The Chapel was also not open and so it was more brisk walking. We got back to the car, blasted the heat and began our journey to Toledo. Almost there and the sun comes back out. Oh well, day 47 to a close.

Niagara Falls (now with pictures!) - 3/20/11

2011-04-10T08:04:00.000-07:00

Pictures!

We set the alarm early Sunday morning so that we could eat breakfast with Christine and Barett before we left. They made wonderful strawberry French toast with Vermont maple syrup for breakfast. They also scrambled the leftover egg dip and cooked it up too. I’m not always a big fan of scrambled eggs cooked on the stove, but these were delicious - all cinnamony and sweet.

It was a 5 hour drive to Niagara Falls, and on the way we finished off the leftover pizza from Boston, as well as some Girl Scout Cookies, baby carrots, and apples. It was just about 2:00 when we arrived at the falls, and some very animated guys were trying to entice us into their respective parking lots with promises of doughnuts and coffee in the visitor’s center. But, since it was March and no one was actually visiting the falls except us, we made a u-turn and easily found 2-hour parking on the street.

The 2-story visitor’s center looked like a ghost town, with nothing but an information counter and a bit of a souvenir shop in one corner. Three quarters of the first floor and the entire second floor were empty and looked like an abandoned warehouse. The guy manning the information counter gave us maps, doughnuts, and magnets even though we hadn’t parked in his parking lot. He also informed us that the last 2 hour tour of the day was departing at 2:30, which was in about 10 minutes. The tour was $30 each, plus tip and tax, so we initially walked away. Five minutes later though, we’d returned to buy tickets. We decided it was our last main stop, that the tour would take us to places we wouldn’t be able to find on our own, and that we were just to dang exhausted from two months of traveling to really get the entire effect of the falls without some adult supervision. Also, the two main attractions - the Maid of the Mist Boat Tour and the Cave of the Winds - were closed until the ice melted. I think you could easily do those two things and feel you had seen the falls (I’ve done the latter before, and it’s amazing), but without those we felt rather directionless.

When the little tour bus pulled up and collected the 11 of us who’d signed up, the jolly driver informed us that he’d be taking us to the observation deck and then to the power plant first, because those spots closed at 5 and he wanted to make sure we got to see them. Tricia and I exchanged glances. Wasn’t this only supposed to be a 2 hour tour? Maybe these were like the USS Constitution - you had to get there by 4 or they wouldn’t let you in at all?

The little bus took us right across the street from the visitor’s center, and we laughed because it was so close. But when we got up on the observation deck, the beautiful view took our breath away. We began snapping pictures, having the tour guide take some of the two of us, and he told us that these were no where near the best view we would see that afternoon. We could see all three falls from the observation deck - the American Falls, Horseshoe Falls, and Bridal Veil Falls. We could also see the ice floating on the water that was keeping the Maid of the Mist from running, and some of the walkways for the Cave of the Winds. They pull up most of the walkways for the winter, and when the ice melts they bring the walkways back out on boats and reassemble them.

Next we piled back into the bus and drove over to the New York Power Authority. During the winter, the flow to the falls is more than halved by gates upstream, and the balance is diverted to the Power Company. In the summer the flow to the falls is only halved at night, but 10% of the flow is always diverted for electricity. Inside the plant were lots of hands-on activities to show how electricity works - designed to entertain elementary school kids on field trips, so you know Tricia and I had fun. J We took turns pedaling a bicycle to see how much energy we could generate. My lung capacity isn’t great, so I could only manage to run a microwave, while Tricia could power a refrigerator. The power plant had an observation deck as well, and we had gorgeous views of Niagara River from there.

On the observation deck, our guide (who I swear never told us his name) told us that 16 people a year go over the falls. This seemed really high to me, considering the number at the Grand Canyon is only 6 a year and the Grand Canyon is waaaaaaay more dangerous! There are guard rails all over Niagara, and nothing of the kind at the Grand Canyon. But maybe more people try to make news by going over the falls in a barrel and surviving. No one would ever do that at the Grand Canyon - if you go over, you know that’s it.

Back in the bus we drove 7 miles away from the falls to see the Giant Whirlpool in the Niagara River. This is when I asked whether people could raft the Niagara. The answer is no - in 1975 they had started white water rafting tours. On the 11^th voyage, one of the rafts capsized and three of the passengers drowned. It was decided that inflatable rafts could not safely navigate the 35 mph waters of the whirlpool, and that was the end of white water tours.

We also learned a very cool fact - that the falls have moved 7 miles in 12500 years do to the erosion of the shale and thin limestone that make up the bottom layers of the falls. The falls used to move 3-5 feet per year, but due to the waters being diverted to the American and Canadian power plants, the erosion has been reduced to only 1 foot per year, and they are hoping to reduce it to 1 foot per 10 years.

After the whirlpool we drove over to Goat Island. Our driver looked out for cops, and when he saw the coast was clear he slowed down to a crawl so we could all kneel on the seats and take pictures of the rapids as we went over the bridge. Upon arriving at Goat Island, we found a statue of Nikola Tesla (who designed the first hydro-electric power plant in Niagara Falls - the final nail in the coffin of Edison’s Direct Current). The statue was on a pedestal that at first seemed to high to climb, so Tricia and I took turns hoisting ourselves into the air and hanging on the pedestal for a moment while the other snapped a picture. But then some of the other tourists managed to scramble up the pedestal and into Tesla’s lap, so we took another turn with the statue and got a bit of assistance getting ourselves up. Tricia got into Tesla’s lap, but the bronze had been worn so smooth by 35 years of tourists doing exactly what we were doing that I was afraid of adding a second person and sliding off to my death (or a broken leg), so I stood next to Mr. Tesla while we smiled for the camera.

On Goat Island we were past the falls and so could look back at them from the other side and get a completely different perspective. On the way to the overlook, we passed a mound of snow that had piled up when they had plowed the walkway, so of course we had to climb it. A lady passing by offered to take our picture, and then had to dissuade her own kid from climbing up with us. We’re a very bad influence on kids. J Our detour gave our tour guide a chance to catch up with us (a family of 6 kept having him return to the bus for gloves, cameras, or to let them sit in it because the infant was getting cold). He showed us a barge that had broken free of its towrope in 1918 while two workers were aboard dredging up a sand bank. The barge got caught on a rock shoal 766 meters from the falls, allowing the workers to be rescued, but the barge still sits there nearly 100 years later.

We drove next to the upper rapids where the driver took pictures of all of us tourists walking into the inch deep water. Never ones to maintain the status quo, Tricia and I pulled off our shoes and socks and rolled up our jeans so that it looked like we were actually wading, and despite the protests of our guide, walked out into the freezing water. Our guide said it was the first time he’d seen people go barefoot in March. So at least we set one record on our trip!!

After climbing on some trees and rocks, we ran back to the bus, as we’d somehow managed to be the last two people on board. We drove back to the exact same parking lot we’d gone to at 2:30 for the (now closed) observation deck and walked right next door to Prospect Point. Prospect Point is so named for a peak that jutted over the American Falls. In 1954 the peak collapsed and crumbled into the gorge below - 180,000 tons of rocks and boulders fell in the initial collapse, and 18,000 more tons were blasted away to make sure the remaining land was safe. So there is no longer a “point” at all.

It was about 6:00 when we returned to the visitor’s center. So our 2 hour tour was more like 3.5 hours. We jogged back to the car which we’d left in two hour parking (the bus passed us and our driver offered us a ride to our car, but we were nearly there already). As usual, on semi-rainy, cold, cloudy days at an outdoor tourist spot in winter, no one was checking to make sure we’d respected the two hour limit. At 6 we were the only car on the street anyway (again). So we set off to look for somewhere to get dinner. The guide had told us that they shine lights on the falls from the Canadian side and that it’s a beautiful view (in summer there are fireworks too!), and then at 10 they turn the lights off. Since the moon was so close to the Earth, there were rumors that there might be a moon-rainbow that night, so we decided we had to see it.

All the cool local restaurants were closed for the winter, and apparently there are no cool non-local restaurants. Our choices were 3 Indian restaurants, a Chinese place, or a Denny’s in a hotel. We chose Denny’s. We schlepped our computers in with us, ordered Moons Over My-Hammy and Nachos, and set up shop. Our food came quickly (we were the only ones there), and it was delicious. After about an hour of blogging, both computers needed to be charged, so we moved to a new table that was next to an outlet. The waitress came by and gave us free coffee and cream. She even offered us refills and to-go cups. I haven’t been to Denny’s in about 10 years, and I have to say, my opinion of it has improved. A lot. The food was good, the service was good, the people are friendly. And even though I’m a royal pain in the butt when it comes to ordering, they’re generally patient with me. I no longer have anything bad to say about Denny’s.

At 9:30 we left the restaurant/hotel and drove back to Prospect Point to see the lights. It was very beautiful in the dark, with the lights from Canada reflecting off the water in pink, white, and blue. However, it was a very cloudy night, and there was no way we were going to see the moon at all that night, let alone a moon-rainbow. We stuck around until 10, but when they didn’t turn the lights out in Canada, we decided it was time to call it a night. We set out for Cleveland, taking turns driving and napping since it was still a 4 hour drive and we wouldn’t arrive until 2 in the morning.

In Cleveland we stayed with Tricia’s friend Jessica, and we woke her up when we arrived so she could let us in. She very graciously gave us a tour of her beautiful new house and the various projects she was working on, such as making pillow shams for the bed in the guest room. After catching up for a little while, we curled up under the covers to get a few hours sleep before morning.

Upstate New York - 3/19/2011

2011-03-31T17:01:00.000-07:00

Day 45 pictures!

Saturday morning we woke up to a lovely view out of Christine and Barrett's front windows. We even saw a train and then all proceeded to say choo choo! However, not too much dawdling as it was Maple Festival this weekend in New York and we were ready to explore! First up, pancakes, bacon and of course, maple syrup. Yummy. The food was delicious and the restaurant was actually part of a three story house with all sorts of fun trinkets, candles, purses and other pretty randomness. This required much exploring and picture taking :)

tapping the maple tree

Our next stop of the day was an actual Maple Farm. Here we tried a few samples (maple coated nuts, mmm) and explored the store for a bit before heading back to the tour. Apparently it had been too warm the night before to have real operations up and going, but they did show us the machinery and had a large tub of syrup boiling which smelled heavenly. It was interesting to hear how their processes differ from others, from the size of the hose going into the tree to the chemical processes they use or don't. We also got to hear about their many side endeavors like the maple cooking classes and eventual wheat mill. Random note, they even had gluten free and vegan pancake mixes in addition to their regular organic, Kosher mix.

view from the back of the hayride

A hay ride finished up our time at the maple farm and though it took a while before we got going, the views were as amazing as they had promised. It was nice to sit back, take in the mild weather and enjoy old friends. Also nice to take goofy pictures with old friends :). The taking of pictures continued as we went on a brief tour of their town. While small, I loved the ambiance and enjoyed their stories. When we got back to their place Kat and I decided we should take some time to get a little bit of motion on our next few blogs. Christine was kind enough tonshare some maple, cream tea with us and after adding large amounts of maple syrup and milk it did taste like maple, cream :)

We passed a place earlier called the Dairy Diner which is actually a Thai restaurant. Upon finding that out, Kat was eager to try it out. Kind of a surprise, the food was actually really good. I'd recommend the Pad Thai, yumminess. Kat's Green Curry was delicious too, although quite spicy. As soon as dinner was done we hurried home to catch the sunset. Too bad there was a large hill (mountain?) in the way. A few pictures and it was time to break out the chocolate, peanut butter ice cream. We enjoyed this over a rather funny movie - Knight and Day - and with a fire burning in the fireplace. It was yummy and cozy and very hard to move when it was done. However, the tantalizing pull of the hot tub finally got us going. Apparently, the moon was as close to the earth as it's been in quite a while and was supposed to look huge. Not sure it was crazy big, but it was crazy beautiful (despite the fact that our camera doesn't always like the dark). Time in the tub passed very quickly and we were all soon tired again. Day 45 to an end.

Boston - 3/18/11

2011-03-29T16:56:00.000-07:00

Click for pics

We had been thinking about going to Portland on Friday, but it was farther away than we had realized, and the drive back passed straight through Boston again. Instead, we decided that we would finish the Freedom Trail in the afternoon. In the morning, we spent some time blogging, and then Lauren, Tricia, and I set off to find a crepe restaurant on Harvard Square. Lauren tried to drive there without using the GPS, since she and it have a love/hate relationship. Apparently the British lady who lives in the GPS likes to change directions mid-route.

At Harvard Square, we drove past the crepe place and it looked very closed. With the iPad, Tricia always has Google at hand, so she looked it up and it is in fact very closed. So instead we made our way to Mr. Bartley’s Gourmet Burgers. There was a line out the door because this restaurant has been featured on the Phantom Gourmet. An impatient man took our order while we were still in line (so much for sitting back and perusing the menu), so Tricia and I split a Lady Gaga burger (with provolone cheese and grilled peppers), sweet potato fries, and a milkshake. We eventually were called into the restaurant, and were ushered through a cafeteria-style room with closely packed tables and chairs. Our food arrived, and I will say that Mr. Bartley’s has the best sweet potato fries in Boston, and we’d tried sweet potato fries at several different places.

Afterwards we went next door to Harvard Book Store and browsed for a while. Pretty soon though, a majority of our little group needed to use the restroom, and as usual, there were none in the enormous bookstore. So we walked boldly into a Dunkin Donuts like we knew exactly what we were doing and exactly where we were going. Unfortunately, they keep their restrooms locked, so we had to retreat to the staff and ask them to let us in. L Then we walked through Harvard Square taking pictures on our way back to the car.

Lauren dropped me and Tricia off at the Bunker Hill Monument and then left us to get ready for work. We didn’t know you could climb it (something that’s open in the winter??) but the ranger pointed us to the stairs. Actually, I said “Can we climb up it?” and he said “I don’t know, can you?” People working at National Monuments and landmarks are getting just a little snippy lately. Anyway, the Bunker Hill Monument is 291 stairs. Straight up. Well, in a circle up, but there are no landings or anything to break up the stairs. It doesn’t sound like a lot….but then again, look how tall this thing is! We were huffing and puffing by the time we got to the top, but we did get some amazing views from up there. And then we had to head down, which is just as bad as heading up, except it‘s harder on the legs than on the lungs. Our legs were shaking by the time we got to the bottom, and continued shaking for quite a while.

Next we made our way to the USS Constitution, where we had to go through a crazy amount of security and scanners. Once we’d passed the test, we headed to the museum and the to the gift shop. In the gift shop I spotted a game of balancing little wooden blocks on a suspended pirate ship without knocking the ship over. Uncharacteristically, Tricia didn’t want to play, so I asked one of the staff if he wanted to compete with me. He was surprisingly enthusiastic about this, and we spent the next 5 minutes rolling the dice and placing the corresponding pieces onto the ship. We also gathered a small crowd. Possibly because this game is for children ages 3 and up. I eventually lost. But it was my first time ever playing.

When we finally made our way to the Constitution it was about 4:05. It said it closed at 5, but it’s another one of those places that stops letting you on an hour before they close. So, I took a picture with the sailor guarding the gate and we went on our merry way. We had to walk back across the river to get to the subway, and then we returned to my sister’s to pack up our things and head out.

My sister is working at a pizza place while she’s in school, so we stopped by to see her and try some of her pizza. First we had to park though. In general, I can sort of manage to successfully parallel park, but that day I was having problems. After going forward and back, forward and back, forward and back, I was no closer to being in the spot. I got out and Tricia tried, but I’d already pretty well mangled the angle and she couldn’t get it parallel to the curb either. Finally, one of the people watching us from the steps of a nearby building broke away and moved her car from in front of us. It was a little on the pathetic side. J

At the pizza shop we got half bbq chicken and half “The Swellesley”, which is chorizo, red pepper, garlic, cheese, and basil. It’s Lauren’s favorite. I liked the bbq chicken better because I’m not a big fan of pizza sauce, but nothing can beat Mother Bear’s BBQ pizza in Bloomington, Indiana. (If you’re ever headed to Bloomington, email me and I’ll tell you where to eat. Best food ever.) We had salads in the restaurant (I had a yummy Greek salad and Tricia had a house salad), and then we took our pizza in the car since we had to get to Cooperstown, New York that night. (Yes, that it where the Baseball Hall of Fame is located. No, we didn’t go.) We made the 4 hours drive in the dark, and in New York we caught up with Tricia’s friends from college, Christine and Barret. We briefly considered trying out their hottub, but eventually decided sleep would be a better plan.

St. Patty's in Boston - 3/17/11

2011-03-27T17:02:00.002-07:00

Library - Click here for pics

Thursday was St. Patty’s Day, and the sun was shining and it was much warmer out than it had been. We were both wearing too many sweaters, jackets, scarves, hats, and gloves for the sunny day, and most of it ended up tied around our waists or stuffed into our bags. But we enjoyed the nice day for once. We didn't have much in the way of green, so we dug through our Mardi Gras loot and found some green beads and a flashing green dragon to wear in deference to the holiday. We started out by taking the T to the Boston Library, where we tried to get free tickets to the aquarium. FYI - if you have a Boston Library Card, you can get free tickets to various things at the library, but show up at least a month in advance.

The librarian pointed us in the direction of the Freedom Trail. On the way we stopped at a street vendor to pick up some honey roasted almonds. The trail wound around the city, and we went through parks and gardens and by the historical buildings. We saw the cemetery where Paul Revere and Benjamin Franklin’s parents are buried (although they no longer know where exactly, since all the tombstones were rearranged into rows with the invention of lawn mowers). We also saw the church where Revere hung the lantern and the statehouse on Beacon Hill (where the dome is expensively covered with gold leaf - $300,000 to have it redone in 1997). Finally there was the Old City Hall - it has been lovingly restored and has been transformed into a Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse.

Plums

Before heading back for the St. Patty’s Day festivities (there were already lines outside the Irish bars at 2:00, and bouncers were taking $20 covers to get in), we walked through Quincy Street Market to see the food vendors. On the street we bought plums and then found a McDonalds and had dollar burgers and shakes. Our no fast food or tv on the road thing is sort of disintegrating in these last few days. Then we went off in search of a T stop, but since we were using a Freedom Trail map with only a couple stops listed, we walked nearly all the way back to the house before finding one. We couldn’t get across the river on foot, so we needed to take the T for the last stop anyway.

Stalking

The four of us took off early for an Irish bar called Goody Glover’s. We drank Irish cider while stalking the diners until one of the groups vacated their table. Some of Lauren and Mike’s friends joined us, and we pulled the tables together and drank green beer and ate semi-Irish food like corned beef and cabbage egg rolls.

I ordered a “Celtic” and the waitress brought me a Celtic beer. Now, normally when I make a mistake like this I just shut up and drink, but I really, really dislike beer, and I really wanted the Celtic Martini (btw - there was no Celtic beer on the menu). But because the waitress didn’t put the new order in officially, it never got made. Every 10 minutes she would come by, realize I still didn’t have the martini, apologize, and promise it was coming. I assured her it was fine. After a very long time, I finally got the martini, and she gave it to me for free. (She still charged me for the beer, but se la vi, right?) It was really good, creamy and green with Crème de Menthe, Creme de Cacao, and Irish Cream. Then Tricia and I tried some fruity martinis, which she liked but that I found disgusting (I’m a picky drinker), so we ordered chips so I would have a snack to disguise the taste. I also had a Preacher's Collar, which is Vodka, Kahlua, Coke, and Guiness. Yeah, that seemed like a good idea at the time. :)

We left the bar at the late hour of 9:00 and bought Cannolis at Mike's Bakery to eat at home. In the T station Lauren and I danced around to our own theme music, doing our best impression of crazy people. Back at the house we enjoyed our sugary and fattening treats and watched tv on the couch. And again didn’t blog. J