Just got back into Barca after a tremendous time at the music festival in Benicassim. A week of camping and beaching and sangriaing and beering and all that other good stuff. Festival was unreal, except for the second night which was canceled due to high winds. The last two nights were out of this world though. Time of my life.
I´m off to London tomorrow night. In the meantime meeting up with some friends in Barca to say goodbye. Meeting a friend of mine from SE Asia in London and we´ll roadtrip. Can´t wait.
Be back in the states in about a week. Looking forward to it. But going out in style. This trip has been amazing.
Much love to all. Be assured I´m having the time of my life.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Saturday, July 11, 2009
You haven´t lived until you´ve been to San Fermin...
Pamplona... wow.
So, let´s see. Had a great last night in Malaga and traveled the next day to Pamplona by train through Madrid. An interesting train ride into Pamplona, the train packed with people going to San Fermin. Quite a lot of bad American tourists, so bad it was embarrassing. By my guess, Texas frat boys or something of the sort. So annoying. But, all in all not so bad. Tried to sleep most of the way and spent the last half hour or so talking with some Spanish girls on our way into Pamplona.
Upon arrival, had to wait around for a long time to meet up with my Australian cousin Amelia, her boyfriend Leigh, and his mates, ¨Fat¨and ¨Wato¨. They arrived with a beer for me and after getting the necessary San Fermin uniform (white pants and shirt with red bandana and scarf worn around the waist) went off to a rented apartment to drop off my bags and head back out. Can´t say much for the apartment, just an empty room with some mattresses thrown on it, but such is the way many locals make some money during this massive festival. Went immediately back to the center of the city, stopping for some beers and sangria and making our way to the park for a fantastic fireworks display at 11. By this time, nearly everyone was drunk, celebrating in the fields and streets. A Romanian girl threw herself on me, talking broken Spanish the entire time. Her friends had to haul her off and we all had a good laugh about it. Following that, the thousands that had gathered on the field to watch the fireworks display spilled into the streets for food and drink, but mostly drink. Sangria and cervezas were plentiful everywhere, and few were sober. It is the most amazing festival I´ve ever been to.
While walking around, tried to call my friend Alfredo, who I know from Barcelona through a friend named Benji, who I traveled with in Hong Kong last summer. Told me he was in Plaza de Castilla, which our group randomly happened upon. About two thousand people packed the square listening to a salsa group. Didn´t think there´d be much of a chance of finding Alfredo, but sure enough, found him and his friends. They tried to teach Amelia and I salsa with mixed results. We decided to head on in the night after a while, and hit up various bars and bocadillo stands before calling it a night and heading home. Tried to wake up early the next morning to see the Encierra, or Running of the Bulls, but slept in till 12. Walked around the city for a bit, arranging the Aussies´bus trip back to Barca with a most unhelpful bus agent at the station. Thankfully I know a bit of Spanish, a lot of English speaking tourists there were having a hell of a time trying to figure travel plans out. Helped a few of them and gave out some Spanish phrases to say.
After that, we changed and headed over to the Plaza Del Toros to try and catch a bull fight. Tickets were sold out, but we scalped a 11€ ticket for 40€ but was well worth it. One of the greater entertainment spectacles of my life. We were seated up in the second level, in the sun, which was party central. Everyone around us (including us) brought in several bottles and boxes and buckets of sangria. There were bands in the stands playing music. Everyone was fairly drunk already, and it was just getting started.
We had to cram into small little areas for a seat as the chaos of the scene did not allow for assigned seating. The bullfight itself was rather brutal. Quite inhumane. At first the bull is run around to get it tired and raising its pulse. Then, horses are brought out as their riders spear the bulls in the back to get it to bleed. On several occasions, the horses received absolutely devastating hits from the bulls, falling down and one horse getting gored. After that, two flambouyantly dressed guys send two shorter spears each that stick into the bulls back. The bull is bleeding quite profusely after this. Then, to the crowd´s delight, the matador comes out. This is the part that many people think of with the bullfight, as he gets the bull to charge at his cape before taking it away at the last moment. He finishes with a sword to the top of the bull´s neck, at which point, if it is done well, the bull falls instantly. Every time I saw it, however, the bulls continued to stick around, and after collapsing to the ground, needed a short dagger to the back of the neck to finish them off. It concludes with a trio of horses dragging the bull off.
And then? The party begins...
One must understand that my cousin Amelia and I were rightly shocked by the brutality of this whole spectacle but as soon as the bull was killed, the crowd erupted in a massive celebration. The bands played. We sang. We danced. We most definitely drank. Sangria is tossed everywhere, transforming our white uniform into a blochy mess of purple (check my facebook photo for a good view). Sandwiches are shared, or tossed, with people and at people. This whole thing continues until the next fight, in which people settle down. But not for long. All of a sudden, everyone stands up and starts singing. The band is playing. More sangria rains down from the heavens. At this point, I figured it was pretty much heaven. Replace the bullfight with a soccer match and it just might be. I try my hand at talking with some Spanish girls with mixed success. They teach me a song and give me some sort of drink which I mix with my sangria. They tell me to toss it on their friends sitting a couple people over to the left. I oblige. Their friends retaliate. More sangria is shared, more singing, more dancing. At this point, the bullfight is secondary, providing only an excuse to kick the singing and dancing and drinking up a notch when the next bull is killed. After a while, the seats have formed a gutter of sangria and beer. Some Spanish guys, quite nice, decide to give Amelia a shower with a liter of beer on her head. All in good fun. By this time, my clothes are drenched, and my eyes stinking from sangria. I get hit in the head with an orange. A sandwich. More sangria. Some older gentlemen behind us offer us sandwiches of jamon and also of egg and prawn. The egg and prawn? Not so good. This naturally gets tossed into the lower decks. Some Australians from around us are also having a good time. What a party.
We eventually leave and wait outside for Fat and Wato who had other seats. They don´t show up, so we head back for a change and a most necessary shower. Finish that night off with a spectacular fireworks display in the part (check the video on facebook) and head to bed early for some sleep.
I was planning on running the next morning and was so nervous I couldn´t sleep. Fat comes in at 3 in the morning, shouting and reliving his night. Apparently he met up with some Spanish who took him and Wato under their wing and showed them the night of their lives. Eventually, we get Fat to shut up so we can get some more sleep, yet I still can´t so call the family at 4 in the morning.
Wake up at 6 and have a quick shower to wake up. Adrenaline starts pumping. Have a RedBull. Adrenaline really starts pumping. Right out of the apartment, run into Wato just coming back. Start walking off for the Encierra. Stretch a bit, run a bit. Get nervous. Try and calm down. Eventually part with Amelia and Leigh as they head to the ring to watch the finale. Work my way through the streets to find an access point for the run. It´s chaos already.
Upon finally finding the route, we are all immediately run off by the police so they can clean the streets of glass and rubbish. Run frantically around trying to find another access point. Eventually find it and it is incredibly crowded. They put us all in a pen and there is hardly room to move. The crowd is a mixture of Spanish and English speaking tourists. Nearly all male. A mixture of nervousness and revelry is in the crowd. People adorn the balconies in the buildings above. We clap, sing. Some chant goes up in Spanish for some of the attractive girls in the balconies to lift their shirts. One grants the crowd its wish to a tremendous uproar. It´s quite the scene all around. The police come through to take out the drunk and ill-prepared to run. More chanting and singing. Eventually, they let us out of the pen to spread out along the route.
I find some other Americans and we pick a spot about a hundred meters from ¨Dead Man´s Corner¨. Past it, of course. Not messing with that, a sharp turn where if you are caught on the outside as the bulls come through, you´re certain to get trampled. Stretch a bit. Talk strategy. Wish each other luck. The runners grow excited.
BOOM! The gun (or rocket?) goes off. This signals the start of the race. The bulls have been released. It´s 8:02. Chaos erupts. At this point, it becomes clear that the most dangerous aspect of the race isn´t the bulls themselves, but the people around. Mob mentality. We´re all looking around for the bulls. I´m nearly shitting myself. Adrenaline REALLY starts going. Then, the roar. First, you hear the runners shouting. We look back. They´re coming around ¨Dead Man´s Corner¨. You can hear the hoofs on the cobble stone streets. Chaos! Everyone is running, but looking back, and darting in and out. At this point, I decided that the center of the street is not for me, and run along the sides. More people to dodge, but at least my margin of error is greater. The bulls go by. It´s all a blur. We all keep running. More bulls go by. Piles of people emerge everywhere, obstacles to avoid. People on the ground cover up, not wanting to get gored. A trampling is better than a goring. I keep running, dodging people all the way. 300 m and about a minute later, I´m in the stadium.
At this point, I figure it´s mostly over. I survived the running, right? Well, after the running, they release smaller bulls with capped horns into the ring. It charges out of this tunnel and proceeds to run around the ring, a wrecking ball of destruction. Some people get it hard. Knocked up in the air, trampled, etc. I´m keeping a distance from the bull, just to observe the scene. You can´t see it most of the time as it runs around there are so many people. All you see at the last minute is the parting of people running from the bull. The Plaza del Toros is filled with spectators cheering and chanting. Touching the bulls horns is strictly forbidden. Chants of ¨You Are A Puta!¨greet those who grab the horns. Finally, a big steer comes out to lead the bull out of the ring. Everyone gathers at this gate, kneeling, arms over one another much like a rugby scrum.
Toro! Toro! Toro! We chant at the gate. The gate opens. At the end of the hall is the silhouette of th bull.
Toro! Toro! Toro! Venga! The bull starts running. It leaps over the first row, jumping on those several rows back. I was just a few feet away. The bull goes off into the crowd and the chaos ensues again. I start to get closer with this one but still keep a fair distance.
We repeat the procedure twice more. On the last bull, I figure I´ve got to do it. People run up to the bull and slap it on the ass before darting away. Might as well try, right?
I succeed. Wait till the bull is running, then come in from the side and give it a little tap. Simple enough. This bull is a feisty one though. It stops and turns in a circle, trying to get those who dare venture too close. I get it twice more. I back off for a bit. The bull then got its revenge, albeit it not on me. It finds a runner and pins him up against the wall, continuing to ram him. People pull at the tail to get it away. This is right in front of me. Eventually, the bull is distracted and runs off while the man is dragged away to safety and paramedics. I´m stll watching the bull.
Then WHAM! I get hit in the head, and hard. I didn´t see it coming. The steer came from behind and I was so transfixed with the bull I didn´t keep my head on a swivel.
It hurt, but not too bad. The event ended and I walked back to the apartment with the biggest shit eating grin on my face. We all rehash our events of the past 12 hours and pack and leave. Spend the day with a siesta in the park by the bus station. The Aussies head off by bus, I head off by train (first class!) back to Barca.
San Fermin. What a time. Planning on going back next year if I can make it work.
So, let´s see. Had a great last night in Malaga and traveled the next day to Pamplona by train through Madrid. An interesting train ride into Pamplona, the train packed with people going to San Fermin. Quite a lot of bad American tourists, so bad it was embarrassing. By my guess, Texas frat boys or something of the sort. So annoying. But, all in all not so bad. Tried to sleep most of the way and spent the last half hour or so talking with some Spanish girls on our way into Pamplona.
Upon arrival, had to wait around for a long time to meet up with my Australian cousin Amelia, her boyfriend Leigh, and his mates, ¨Fat¨and ¨Wato¨. They arrived with a beer for me and after getting the necessary San Fermin uniform (white pants and shirt with red bandana and scarf worn around the waist) went off to a rented apartment to drop off my bags and head back out. Can´t say much for the apartment, just an empty room with some mattresses thrown on it, but such is the way many locals make some money during this massive festival. Went immediately back to the center of the city, stopping for some beers and sangria and making our way to the park for a fantastic fireworks display at 11. By this time, nearly everyone was drunk, celebrating in the fields and streets. A Romanian girl threw herself on me, talking broken Spanish the entire time. Her friends had to haul her off and we all had a good laugh about it. Following that, the thousands that had gathered on the field to watch the fireworks display spilled into the streets for food and drink, but mostly drink. Sangria and cervezas were plentiful everywhere, and few were sober. It is the most amazing festival I´ve ever been to.
While walking around, tried to call my friend Alfredo, who I know from Barcelona through a friend named Benji, who I traveled with in Hong Kong last summer. Told me he was in Plaza de Castilla, which our group randomly happened upon. About two thousand people packed the square listening to a salsa group. Didn´t think there´d be much of a chance of finding Alfredo, but sure enough, found him and his friends. They tried to teach Amelia and I salsa with mixed results. We decided to head on in the night after a while, and hit up various bars and bocadillo stands before calling it a night and heading home. Tried to wake up early the next morning to see the Encierra, or Running of the Bulls, but slept in till 12. Walked around the city for a bit, arranging the Aussies´bus trip back to Barca with a most unhelpful bus agent at the station. Thankfully I know a bit of Spanish, a lot of English speaking tourists there were having a hell of a time trying to figure travel plans out. Helped a few of them and gave out some Spanish phrases to say.
After that, we changed and headed over to the Plaza Del Toros to try and catch a bull fight. Tickets were sold out, but we scalped a 11€ ticket for 40€ but was well worth it. One of the greater entertainment spectacles of my life. We were seated up in the second level, in the sun, which was party central. Everyone around us (including us) brought in several bottles and boxes and buckets of sangria. There were bands in the stands playing music. Everyone was fairly drunk already, and it was just getting started.
We had to cram into small little areas for a seat as the chaos of the scene did not allow for assigned seating. The bullfight itself was rather brutal. Quite inhumane. At first the bull is run around to get it tired and raising its pulse. Then, horses are brought out as their riders spear the bulls in the back to get it to bleed. On several occasions, the horses received absolutely devastating hits from the bulls, falling down and one horse getting gored. After that, two flambouyantly dressed guys send two shorter spears each that stick into the bulls back. The bull is bleeding quite profusely after this. Then, to the crowd´s delight, the matador comes out. This is the part that many people think of with the bullfight, as he gets the bull to charge at his cape before taking it away at the last moment. He finishes with a sword to the top of the bull´s neck, at which point, if it is done well, the bull falls instantly. Every time I saw it, however, the bulls continued to stick around, and after collapsing to the ground, needed a short dagger to the back of the neck to finish them off. It concludes with a trio of horses dragging the bull off.
And then? The party begins...
One must understand that my cousin Amelia and I were rightly shocked by the brutality of this whole spectacle but as soon as the bull was killed, the crowd erupted in a massive celebration. The bands played. We sang. We danced. We most definitely drank. Sangria is tossed everywhere, transforming our white uniform into a blochy mess of purple (check my facebook photo for a good view). Sandwiches are shared, or tossed, with people and at people. This whole thing continues until the next fight, in which people settle down. But not for long. All of a sudden, everyone stands up and starts singing. The band is playing. More sangria rains down from the heavens. At this point, I figured it was pretty much heaven. Replace the bullfight with a soccer match and it just might be. I try my hand at talking with some Spanish girls with mixed success. They teach me a song and give me some sort of drink which I mix with my sangria. They tell me to toss it on their friends sitting a couple people over to the left. I oblige. Their friends retaliate. More sangria is shared, more singing, more dancing. At this point, the bullfight is secondary, providing only an excuse to kick the singing and dancing and drinking up a notch when the next bull is killed. After a while, the seats have formed a gutter of sangria and beer. Some Spanish guys, quite nice, decide to give Amelia a shower with a liter of beer on her head. All in good fun. By this time, my clothes are drenched, and my eyes stinking from sangria. I get hit in the head with an orange. A sandwich. More sangria. Some older gentlemen behind us offer us sandwiches of jamon and also of egg and prawn. The egg and prawn? Not so good. This naturally gets tossed into the lower decks. Some Australians from around us are also having a good time. What a party.
We eventually leave and wait outside for Fat and Wato who had other seats. They don´t show up, so we head back for a change and a most necessary shower. Finish that night off with a spectacular fireworks display in the part (check the video on facebook) and head to bed early for some sleep.
I was planning on running the next morning and was so nervous I couldn´t sleep. Fat comes in at 3 in the morning, shouting and reliving his night. Apparently he met up with some Spanish who took him and Wato under their wing and showed them the night of their lives. Eventually, we get Fat to shut up so we can get some more sleep, yet I still can´t so call the family at 4 in the morning.
Wake up at 6 and have a quick shower to wake up. Adrenaline starts pumping. Have a RedBull. Adrenaline really starts pumping. Right out of the apartment, run into Wato just coming back. Start walking off for the Encierra. Stretch a bit, run a bit. Get nervous. Try and calm down. Eventually part with Amelia and Leigh as they head to the ring to watch the finale. Work my way through the streets to find an access point for the run. It´s chaos already.
Upon finally finding the route, we are all immediately run off by the police so they can clean the streets of glass and rubbish. Run frantically around trying to find another access point. Eventually find it and it is incredibly crowded. They put us all in a pen and there is hardly room to move. The crowd is a mixture of Spanish and English speaking tourists. Nearly all male. A mixture of nervousness and revelry is in the crowd. People adorn the balconies in the buildings above. We clap, sing. Some chant goes up in Spanish for some of the attractive girls in the balconies to lift their shirts. One grants the crowd its wish to a tremendous uproar. It´s quite the scene all around. The police come through to take out the drunk and ill-prepared to run. More chanting and singing. Eventually, they let us out of the pen to spread out along the route.
I find some other Americans and we pick a spot about a hundred meters from ¨Dead Man´s Corner¨. Past it, of course. Not messing with that, a sharp turn where if you are caught on the outside as the bulls come through, you´re certain to get trampled. Stretch a bit. Talk strategy. Wish each other luck. The runners grow excited.
BOOM! The gun (or rocket?) goes off. This signals the start of the race. The bulls have been released. It´s 8:02. Chaos erupts. At this point, it becomes clear that the most dangerous aspect of the race isn´t the bulls themselves, but the people around. Mob mentality. We´re all looking around for the bulls. I´m nearly shitting myself. Adrenaline REALLY starts going. Then, the roar. First, you hear the runners shouting. We look back. They´re coming around ¨Dead Man´s Corner¨. You can hear the hoofs on the cobble stone streets. Chaos! Everyone is running, but looking back, and darting in and out. At this point, I decided that the center of the street is not for me, and run along the sides. More people to dodge, but at least my margin of error is greater. The bulls go by. It´s all a blur. We all keep running. More bulls go by. Piles of people emerge everywhere, obstacles to avoid. People on the ground cover up, not wanting to get gored. A trampling is better than a goring. I keep running, dodging people all the way. 300 m and about a minute later, I´m in the stadium.
At this point, I figure it´s mostly over. I survived the running, right? Well, after the running, they release smaller bulls with capped horns into the ring. It charges out of this tunnel and proceeds to run around the ring, a wrecking ball of destruction. Some people get it hard. Knocked up in the air, trampled, etc. I´m keeping a distance from the bull, just to observe the scene. You can´t see it most of the time as it runs around there are so many people. All you see at the last minute is the parting of people running from the bull. The Plaza del Toros is filled with spectators cheering and chanting. Touching the bulls horns is strictly forbidden. Chants of ¨You Are A Puta!¨greet those who grab the horns. Finally, a big steer comes out to lead the bull out of the ring. Everyone gathers at this gate, kneeling, arms over one another much like a rugby scrum.
Toro! Toro! Toro! We chant at the gate. The gate opens. At the end of the hall is the silhouette of th bull.
Toro! Toro! Toro! Venga! The bull starts running. It leaps over the first row, jumping on those several rows back. I was just a few feet away. The bull goes off into the crowd and the chaos ensues again. I start to get closer with this one but still keep a fair distance.
We repeat the procedure twice more. On the last bull, I figure I´ve got to do it. People run up to the bull and slap it on the ass before darting away. Might as well try, right?
I succeed. Wait till the bull is running, then come in from the side and give it a little tap. Simple enough. This bull is a feisty one though. It stops and turns in a circle, trying to get those who dare venture too close. I get it twice more. I back off for a bit. The bull then got its revenge, albeit it not on me. It finds a runner and pins him up against the wall, continuing to ram him. People pull at the tail to get it away. This is right in front of me. Eventually, the bull is distracted and runs off while the man is dragged away to safety and paramedics. I´m stll watching the bull.
Then WHAM! I get hit in the head, and hard. I didn´t see it coming. The steer came from behind and I was so transfixed with the bull I didn´t keep my head on a swivel.
It hurt, but not too bad. The event ended and I walked back to the apartment with the biggest shit eating grin on my face. We all rehash our events of the past 12 hours and pack and leave. Spend the day with a siesta in the park by the bus station. The Aussies head off by bus, I head off by train (first class!) back to Barca.
San Fermin. What a time. Planning on going back next year if I can make it work.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Out of Africa...
While my stay down in Morocco was tremendous, I was getting a bit anxious to get back to Spain. Rather than spend more time at a beach resort down in Morocco, decided to head to Tangier on the 3rd and up into Spain on the next day. Of course, this means I didn´t get a chance to go diving in Morocco (and Spain is much too expensive for it) so I´ll put that off till later. But plenty of time for that.
At any rate, not much to really say about Tangier. It´s a zoo, really. Not many tourists, and almost felt unwelcome which was unlike the rest of Morocco. Also, noticed that cars seemed to clean their windshield while driving past me, happened on several occasions and got sprayed a bit each time. Coincidence? Maybe, seemed to happen much too often for that though. Stayed in a run down hotel in Tangier with no showers, used a handkerchief for a Mexican shower. Most of the people staying in the place were migrant workers, or at least guessing so as the front desk seemed to run an ID card scheme, matching workers with a photo ID that kind of resembled them. Most funny. They were thrilled to have a backpacker in there though, when I checked in they zoomed around the place showing me where everything was.
The ferry the next morning was rather uneventful. Quick shot right over to Algeciras. Upon getting into Spain, got the backpacker customs treatment I have become so used to. Customs agents take one look at me, see a grungy backpacker and immediately I´m off to the other room. Let them check my bags, which they didn´t do very thoroughly, but after some talk in Spanish, they realized I didn´t have anything on me. I very well could have, and they wouldn´t have noticed but I´d be a fool to risk that. We parted with some pleasant words and they wished me a happy stay in Spain. Hopped on a bus outside the port and was off to Malaga. I had wanted to go to Cadiz but they were booked solid for the night and didn´t feel like paying too much.
Malaga is.... hot. Well over a hundred degrees each day. Upon getting in (July 4th), found some other Americans and went off to the beach in the car they had rented. On the way back, stopped at the supermercado to get burgers, mac & cheese, corn, and Budweiser. Felt like celebrating Independence Day the right way. Food turned out wonderful, and fed the leftover beef to Chango, the hostel dog, a big furry dog with the most relaxed demeanor ever. Naturally, it being a holiday and my first day back in a ´wet´country like Spain rather than a ´dry´ country like Morocco, I had quite a few beers (as did everyone else) and sang songs and played drinking games late into the night. Quite a good mix of people in the hostel, some Canadians I stayed with in Brussels were also there, as are a bunch of Dutch, some Spanish, and some French, including a very cute French girl. Naturally, I did my best to improve France-American relations. Mission accomplished.
Next morning (yesterday) woke up quite hungover and went with the Americans off to the beach. Water was rather cold which was too bad, and we generally took the day rather easy. Last night we all took it easy, as many people had either cleared out or had early trains/planes/buses etc.
Today was a day to get stuff in order. Got my train tickets for tomorrow. Got a Spanish cell phone (633 367 254) after a long ordeal with that. Trying to get photos all sorted out but that´s proving to be near impossible.
Off to Pamplona for running of the bulls tomorrow. Hopefully won´t end up skewered....
At any rate, not much to really say about Tangier. It´s a zoo, really. Not many tourists, and almost felt unwelcome which was unlike the rest of Morocco. Also, noticed that cars seemed to clean their windshield while driving past me, happened on several occasions and got sprayed a bit each time. Coincidence? Maybe, seemed to happen much too often for that though. Stayed in a run down hotel in Tangier with no showers, used a handkerchief for a Mexican shower. Most of the people staying in the place were migrant workers, or at least guessing so as the front desk seemed to run an ID card scheme, matching workers with a photo ID that kind of resembled them. Most funny. They were thrilled to have a backpacker in there though, when I checked in they zoomed around the place showing me where everything was.
The ferry the next morning was rather uneventful. Quick shot right over to Algeciras. Upon getting into Spain, got the backpacker customs treatment I have become so used to. Customs agents take one look at me, see a grungy backpacker and immediately I´m off to the other room. Let them check my bags, which they didn´t do very thoroughly, but after some talk in Spanish, they realized I didn´t have anything on me. I very well could have, and they wouldn´t have noticed but I´d be a fool to risk that. We parted with some pleasant words and they wished me a happy stay in Spain. Hopped on a bus outside the port and was off to Malaga. I had wanted to go to Cadiz but they were booked solid for the night and didn´t feel like paying too much.
Malaga is.... hot. Well over a hundred degrees each day. Upon getting in (July 4th), found some other Americans and went off to the beach in the car they had rented. On the way back, stopped at the supermercado to get burgers, mac & cheese, corn, and Budweiser. Felt like celebrating Independence Day the right way. Food turned out wonderful, and fed the leftover beef to Chango, the hostel dog, a big furry dog with the most relaxed demeanor ever. Naturally, it being a holiday and my first day back in a ´wet´country like Spain rather than a ´dry´ country like Morocco, I had quite a few beers (as did everyone else) and sang songs and played drinking games late into the night. Quite a good mix of people in the hostel, some Canadians I stayed with in Brussels were also there, as are a bunch of Dutch, some Spanish, and some French, including a very cute French girl. Naturally, I did my best to improve France-American relations. Mission accomplished.
Next morning (yesterday) woke up quite hungover and went with the Americans off to the beach. Water was rather cold which was too bad, and we generally took the day rather easy. Last night we all took it easy, as many people had either cleared out or had early trains/planes/buses etc.
Today was a day to get stuff in order. Got my train tickets for tomorrow. Got a Spanish cell phone (633 367 254) after a long ordeal with that. Trying to get photos all sorted out but that´s proving to be near impossible.
Off to Pamplona for running of the bulls tomorrow. Hopefully won´t end up skewered....
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Chefchaouen
Well, been a while since my last post, but be rest assured this is cause I've been having a great time as well as the fact that the French keyboards they use in Morocco are an absolute hassle. So, here we go... last week or so...
My last night in Marrakech was fantastic. Went out for some food, settling on a mystery plate of meat and some skewers (didn't take me long to venture back into street food, but no snails for me). Spent the rest of the night talking with a bunch of others who were staying at the same hostel while smoking the hookah, made for a fantastic night. Every now and then you get a great mix of people in a particular hostel and this was one of the best groups I've ever encountered in a particular hostel, quite sad to leave them, but so it goes.
Woke up early the next morning for a 630 bus ride out of Marrakech. First on to Casablanca, which wasn't much from what I could see. Mainly a big business city from the looks of it, and reviews from fellow travelers were pretty awful (dead bodies in the road and other very strange things). Moved on from there after a few hours waiting in the bus station to Chefchaouen. Was a tremendoulsy scenic bus ride there, although long and the AC had broken on the bus. Even the locals said the heat was near unbearable. Made friends with a fellow traveler along the way, Daisuke, from Japan, and after arriving in Marrakech set out to find a hostel I had looked up.
Arrived at the hostel and for 30 dirham (3 euro, 4 dollars) a night settled onto a mattress on the roof. Simple, yet beautiful at the same time. Daisuke and I went off to support the local farming economy and settled in to a quiet night on the roof of the hostel, with spectacular views of Chefchaouen and the surrounding countryside.
Next day woke up and decided on a hike. Scrambled up the hill eventually finding a trail along the way. Managed to pass quite a few locals on the way up, all of which were very friendly and offered water and advice for the hike. Chanced upon a road leading up the mountain and took it, a valley leading up into the mountains far beyond Chefchaouen. Absolutely beautiful up that way. A creek ran through the valley with bright pink flowered bushes on the banks. Various fountains were stationed all over so we could refill water bottles and dip our heads underneath the water. We started the hike at 11 and by 1230 or so the temperature was already well over 100 degrees, probably 110 at the height of the hike. Along the road going up were many goat herders, marijuana plantations, and small homes. One guy invited us into his home for a break in the shade and we gladfully accepted, it was really hot. At this point, had ditched the tshirt but this resulted in an aboslutely ridiculous tan from my backpack that I'm still trying to beat. 4 hours up the mountain we reached the top where the trail went back down the other side. Explored around the top for a bit and then 2 hours back down. Much easier on the way down but still hot and came back to the hostel to relax for a while.
Went out that night for some internet access (incredibly slow) and a haircut, which for 3 dollars was the most attentive haircut I've ever gotten. Got the buzz again, in the Moroccan heat and while traveling it just makes sense. Ate a nice chicken tanjin dinner that night and went to bed relatively early.
Next day woke up and walked around Chefchaouen for the morning. A quick word on the town. Easily in the top 3 of most charming places ever. The walls of the city and doors are all painted various shades of blue. Small little alleys are filled with shops and homes. Just a great place to be. I'm working on photos so will try and have those up soon.
At 2 in the afternoon, met up with a group of other kids at the the hostel and took taxis about 40 minutes outside Chefchaouen to this waterfall which was a 20 minute hike or so up a valley. The walk was incredibly scenic, with monkeys hanging onto sheer rock cliffs and streams running all through the area. The waterfall itself was fantastic. Not the best ever, but a wonderful place to go too. Of course I had to jump off it into the pool below, which took some nerve considering it was a 12m (40 feet) drop into a 2m pool of water . Took a video of the jump using my waterproof camera. Will post that soon. Finished off the night with the waterfall group with dinner and some shopping. Got a hand woven blanket for 20 dollars or so, quite a good one, and should be of good use with camping in Pamplona and Bennicassim coming up.
More to come later, it's late, and if I can somehow get over the heat should like to sleep now. It's about 90 degrees I'd say. In Malaga in Spain by the way. Tangier and Malaga to come tomorrow...
Monday, June 29, 2009
Turned the corner...
Thankfully my bout with food poisoning appears to be on its way out and about time. Two days of not eating, ~102 degree fever, and unpleasant digestive patters was enough for me.
Celebrated last night by getting a cheeseburger but unfortunately was just not up the task. It is Morocco after all, but I figured since it was a touristy place I would luck out. Not so much. The bun was too mushy, and the burger lacked burgerness. I blame the French influence. C'est la vie.
Last night bought a ton of water to start rehydrating with. The more and more I drank, the more and more I sweated. I had lost close to 10 pounds in the two days and was beginning to look like I did in high school, but amazingly filled out back to normal within about 5 liters of water.
At the hostel have been some really cool kids. A bunch from Australia and a few Americans and others from here and there. We stayed up late last night talking and this was tremendously good just for my spirits. Two days of nothing has quite a devastating effect on myself especially when I like to be so social and on-the-go.
Today was another lazy day. I haven't been too outgoing as the digestive organs are a bit feisty from time to time but walked for a good ways in the 100+ degree heat to the bus/train station. Tomorrow I'm off to Chefchaouen (look it up!) but it'll be a long trip out there.
As for now, more just hanging out. Sun is about to go down so I can enjoy Marrakech one last night.
Oh, and discoverd the secret to traveling in Morocco, going commando!
Celebrated last night by getting a cheeseburger but unfortunately was just not up the task. It is Morocco after all, but I figured since it was a touristy place I would luck out. Not so much. The bun was too mushy, and the burger lacked burgerness. I blame the French influence. C'est la vie.
Last night bought a ton of water to start rehydrating with. The more and more I drank, the more and more I sweated. I had lost close to 10 pounds in the two days and was beginning to look like I did in high school, but amazingly filled out back to normal within about 5 liters of water.
At the hostel have been some really cool kids. A bunch from Australia and a few Americans and others from here and there. We stayed up late last night talking and this was tremendously good just for my spirits. Two days of nothing has quite a devastating effect on myself especially when I like to be so social and on-the-go.
Today was another lazy day. I haven't been too outgoing as the digestive organs are a bit feisty from time to time but walked for a good ways in the 100+ degree heat to the bus/train station. Tomorrow I'm off to Chefchaouen (look it up!) but it'll be a long trip out there.
As for now, more just hanging out. Sun is about to go down so I can enjoy Marrakech one last night.
Oh, and discoverd the secret to traveling in Morocco, going commando!
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Food poisoning sucks.
Well, I've definitely had better days before. As a fallout from the escargot incident, I spend nearly all day yesterday with a high fever and visiting the bathroom every hour or so. Not fun at all. At one point debated going to the hospital, but figured I'd try a pharmacy instead. Amazing how pharmacies in the third world are so much more convenient than in the US. Walk right in, get prescription drugs for about 8 dollars. They seem to be working alright, although I'm taking double the recommended dose at the moment to get the bowels to solidify up. Whatever works, I'm tired of the bathroom.
Fever cleared up a bit last night and is only slightly higher right now. Spent nearly all night going to the bathroom though. Felt bad for my roommates but they were quite in with Morocco's number one export (hash) so said it didn't bother them all that much. Today have been doing much better. Going to try and find a place to watch the US.Brazil soccer game tonight, if I'm feeling better. (side note, just found the ' key which is thrilling considering I've been using CTRL V this entire time, foreign keyboards, always a challenge).
Wish I had more interesting things to write, but that'll have to wait til later. Unfortunately am going to pass up Fes, which I was really looking forward to, but that'll have to wait till another time. Chefchaouen is next, probably headed there on Tuesday. Then Tetuan. Need to get some diving in.
Fever cleared up a bit last night and is only slightly higher right now. Spent nearly all night going to the bathroom though. Felt bad for my roommates but they were quite in with Morocco's number one export (hash) so said it didn't bother them all that much. Today have been doing much better. Going to try and find a place to watch the US.Brazil soccer game tonight, if I'm feeling better. (side note, just found the ' key which is thrilling considering I've been using CTRL V this entire time, foreign keyboards, always a challenge).
Wish I had more interesting things to write, but that'll have to wait til later. Unfortunately am going to pass up Fes, which I was really looking forward to, but that'll have to wait till another time. Chefchaouen is next, probably headed there on Tuesday. Then Tetuan. Need to get some diving in.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Michael Jackson
Also, interesting side note...
Everyone knows Michael Jackson. Have heard many Moroccans talk about him, and Mohammed (the guy I met last night) said his sister had stayed in tonight crying.
King of Pop indeed.
Everyone knows Michael Jackson. Have heard many Moroccans talk about him, and Mohammed (the guy I met last night) said his sister had stayed in tonight crying.
King of Pop indeed.
Moroccan snails were a bad choice...
So anyone who has seen Anchorman knows the scene in which Will Ferrell drinks milk and then proclaims "Milk was a baaaaad choice". That's how I feel about the escargot now. Had it last night, don't think it's agreeing with me. Actually I know it isn't agreeing with me. So today is a day for staying in bed, and close to the bathroom.
Still having a great time though. Had a marriage proposal last night from a Moroccan girl and met a pretty cool Berber guy who took me around so he could practice his English. Hopefully try and meet up with him again tonight, he said he'd teach me Arabic? If I'm feeling well that is.
Still having a great time though. Had a marriage proposal last night from a Moroccan girl and met a pretty cool Berber guy who took me around so he could practice his English. Hopefully try and meet up with him again tonight, he said he'd teach me Arabic? If I'm feeling well that is.
Friday, June 26, 2009
I love the third world...
It is so amazing to be back traveling in a grungy, exotic, and vibrant country again. This is exactly what I had missed since finishing up my Asia travels last summer. Dont get me wrong, Europe is great, but Morocco has a buzz to it that you just cant get in more developed countries.
(Also, for the record, this will be a punctuationless post, cant figure it out on this keyboard)
So after a quiet last night in Paris, left early the next morning for CDG airport. Very easy to do, and customs and security went by fast. The flight itself was a bit of a pain, seated right near a very spoiled couple Moroccan kids who insisted on pouting and crying the entire time. But had the opportunity to speak to a very cute French girl seated next to me so all was good there.
Upon arriving in the airport and changing money out, went for a cab. At first, offered 20 euro for a ride to the center of the city but saw a sign saying no more than 50 dihram, which is about 6 US dollars. Of course I said bullshit in the nicest way possible, walked off, and found someone to take me for 5 euro. Ah, the joy of bargaining.
Dropped off near the center square in Marrakech and its down the rabbit hole all over again. Walked through the square amidst orange juice vendors (delicious), henna tattooists, and snake charmers into the back alleys of Marrakech to find my hostel. Despite the complicated directions, it was quite easy to find. And a fabulous hostel, exactly what I needed. Ive been feeling quite sick lately, I think a mixture of dehydration, cold, bronchitis, food poisoning, swine flu, and of course leprosy. Took a nap and later went out for a walk, ignoring the many offers for -hashish-, -good market-, and the multitude of other things. Many of the street propositioners will ask in French, then move on to English. Ive decided to become Spanish while in the streets, and while my Spanish will not fool any native Spaniard, its enough to get the salesmen off. Went back to the hostel for a bit of a nap and rest in front of the fan.
Last night, after having not eaten in about 24 hours, went out to find something to eat. The square had transformed into a labrynth of street restaurants, snake charmers, street performers, and vendors of all kinds of groovy things. Settled myself down on a table to a plate of sausages, bread, and salsa for a 1.50 american. Then went and had a big bowl of real, authentic escargot, not the French kind, but the big, juicy, see the horns on the head kind for another dollar. Finished off with a little OJ. Figured Id go rest up some more until it got cold but my nap lasted until this morning. Feeling a bit better now, gonna go find some water and see the city. My friend Anna from Cal recommended I look up this taxi driver Siad who is supposed to be hilarious so figure Ill try that out.
Much love to all, get a bit homesick at times but absolutely loving it over here. I think Im made to spend the better part of my youth in the developing world.
(Also, for the record, this will be a punctuationless post, cant figure it out on this keyboard)
So after a quiet last night in Paris, left early the next morning for CDG airport. Very easy to do, and customs and security went by fast. The flight itself was a bit of a pain, seated right near a very spoiled couple Moroccan kids who insisted on pouting and crying the entire time. But had the opportunity to speak to a very cute French girl seated next to me so all was good there.
Upon arriving in the airport and changing money out, went for a cab. At first, offered 20 euro for a ride to the center of the city but saw a sign saying no more than 50 dihram, which is about 6 US dollars. Of course I said bullshit in the nicest way possible, walked off, and found someone to take me for 5 euro. Ah, the joy of bargaining.
Dropped off near the center square in Marrakech and its down the rabbit hole all over again. Walked through the square amidst orange juice vendors (delicious), henna tattooists, and snake charmers into the back alleys of Marrakech to find my hostel. Despite the complicated directions, it was quite easy to find. And a fabulous hostel, exactly what I needed. Ive been feeling quite sick lately, I think a mixture of dehydration, cold, bronchitis, food poisoning, swine flu, and of course leprosy. Took a nap and later went out for a walk, ignoring the many offers for -hashish-, -good market-, and the multitude of other things. Many of the street propositioners will ask in French, then move on to English. Ive decided to become Spanish while in the streets, and while my Spanish will not fool any native Spaniard, its enough to get the salesmen off. Went back to the hostel for a bit of a nap and rest in front of the fan.
Last night, after having not eaten in about 24 hours, went out to find something to eat. The square had transformed into a labrynth of street restaurants, snake charmers, street performers, and vendors of all kinds of groovy things. Settled myself down on a table to a plate of sausages, bread, and salsa for a 1.50 american. Then went and had a big bowl of real, authentic escargot, not the French kind, but the big, juicy, see the horns on the head kind for another dollar. Finished off with a little OJ. Figured Id go rest up some more until it got cold but my nap lasted until this morning. Feeling a bit better now, gonna go find some water and see the city. My friend Anna from Cal recommended I look up this taxi driver Siad who is supposed to be hilarious so figure Ill try that out.
Much love to all, get a bit homesick at times but absolutely loving it over here. I think Im made to spend the better part of my youth in the developing world.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Paris.... meh
So, I'm now back in Paris. It's my third time here, and while it certainly is a great city, I have never really felt the charm of it that other people do.
When I got in yesterday, Emily and I went walking around, stopping in a cafe. I had a salad which was absolutely perfect for the time. After walking around Montmarte for a while, ended up taking the metro to this movie poster store where Emily was thrilled to find a 'Fargo' poster. I headed home after this, to take a much needed nap. I've been feeling quite down lately, and on the verge of sickness, hopefully not bronchitis which I had earlier this year and took months to get rid of. At any rate, it was a good nap, and I'm taking care of myself now, hydrating with water, not drinking, and cutting other habits which are not conducive to healthy lungs.
Around 7:30 to 8 or so, Emily and I headed out to Montmarte again looking for a place to eat. Ended up settling on a lovely little cafe-restaurant, and had appetizers of escargot while Emily opted for the duck (standard operating procedure for Em) while I had a delicious steak. Apple tart and cheese afters followed suit. Delicious. Best part is, was on Mom. Thanks Mom!
Called it an early night last night and then woke up this morning to a chill morning. Got Emily off to the train station to head to the airport, which, I must say, was quite sad. While I had my doubts about traveling with Em, who is so different from me, she has been an amazing travel partner. Very chill and fun to hang out with. I'm definitely lucky to have a sister as cool as her. She's back to NYC to apartment hunt and whatnot, but I know she's looking forward to being in her own bed and with her friends.
I'm going to take the day fairly easy and try and rest up. Maybe walk around a bit tonight. Would love to hear from you all, mecheever@gmail.com . If you send me your address I'll send you a postcard.
Au revoir Paris, off to Marrakech tomorrow.
When I got in yesterday, Emily and I went walking around, stopping in a cafe. I had a salad which was absolutely perfect for the time. After walking around Montmarte for a while, ended up taking the metro to this movie poster store where Emily was thrilled to find a 'Fargo' poster. I headed home after this, to take a much needed nap. I've been feeling quite down lately, and on the verge of sickness, hopefully not bronchitis which I had earlier this year and took months to get rid of. At any rate, it was a good nap, and I'm taking care of myself now, hydrating with water, not drinking, and cutting other habits which are not conducive to healthy lungs.
Around 7:30 to 8 or so, Emily and I headed out to Montmarte again looking for a place to eat. Ended up settling on a lovely little cafe-restaurant, and had appetizers of escargot while Emily opted for the duck (standard operating procedure for Em) while I had a delicious steak. Apple tart and cheese afters followed suit. Delicious. Best part is, was on Mom. Thanks Mom!
Called it an early night last night and then woke up this morning to a chill morning. Got Emily off to the train station to head to the airport, which, I must say, was quite sad. While I had my doubts about traveling with Em, who is so different from me, she has been an amazing travel partner. Very chill and fun to hang out with. I'm definitely lucky to have a sister as cool as her. She's back to NYC to apartment hunt and whatnot, but I know she's looking forward to being in her own bed and with her friends.
I'm going to take the day fairly easy and try and rest up. Maybe walk around a bit tonight. Would love to hear from you all, mecheever@gmail.com . If you send me your address I'll send you a postcard.
Au revoir Paris, off to Marrakech tomorrow.
Bruxelles
Considering its reputation as one of the beer capitals of the world, Belgium was a must on this trip for me. I arrived Sunday evening, and after checking into my hostel immediately went to the laundromat which was a must. Finished that fairly quickly and made my way to a recommended restaurant (Chez Leon) for the local special: mussles and fries. Add in a beer to that and it was a great meal. Right by the restaurant was the Delerium bar, home to over 2000 beers. The bar itself is just a collection of taps and hoses, quite the site. Started off with a Delerium tremens, a beer which I rarely get in the states cause it's so expensive, and talked with a some guys from Dallas who were in their 30's and just getting out of the country for the first time. They were quite blown away by the travel thing, even moreso that us youngfolk do this solo via trains, buses, hostels, etc. Eventually met up with some kids from the hostel and had some good conversation. Towards the end of the night, began to realize that 10% alcohol by volume Belgian beer is much stronger than 5% American beer and had a wonderful night sleep.
Next day, woke up to walk around a bit, going to the Grand Palace area and seeing Mannekin Pis, a statue of a cherubish boy peeing into a fountain. Tried to go to the comic museum but it was closed on Mondays. Ended up walking around the shopping district for a while seeing the locals at work before heading back to the hostel to book my flight to Morocco. Ended up being quite more expensive than I thought. But, Morocco's cost pays for itself in the end.
That night for dinner, made myself salmon with a mango, tomato, onion, cilantro salsa on top. Had been a while since I cooked a nice meal so jumped at the opportunity to use my hostel's kitchen. Had a few beers and then went out with a bunch of other kids in the hostel to various bars and whatnot.
Next day, woke up plenty early and was out the door with more than enough time to arrive at Brussels cental station. In Belgium, and especially Brussels, everything is displayed in French and Flemish. Thinking that Central and Midi were more or less the same thing, I arrived at what I thought to be the right train station. I was wrong. Had plenty of time so tried to catch a train to Midi, but that was delayed. Arrived right at 9:13 right as my train was leaving, but no signs to direct me where to go. Ended up missing my train, but talked with the Thalys (French) rail people and after a good natured joking around on their part, ended up hopping on the train. A short while later, arrived in Paris.
Next day, woke up to walk around a bit, going to the Grand Palace area and seeing Mannekin Pis, a statue of a cherubish boy peeing into a fountain. Tried to go to the comic museum but it was closed on Mondays. Ended up walking around the shopping district for a while seeing the locals at work before heading back to the hostel to book my flight to Morocco. Ended up being quite more expensive than I thought. But, Morocco's cost pays for itself in the end.
That night for dinner, made myself salmon with a mango, tomato, onion, cilantro salsa on top. Had been a while since I cooked a nice meal so jumped at the opportunity to use my hostel's kitchen. Had a few beers and then went out with a bunch of other kids in the hostel to various bars and whatnot.
Next day, woke up plenty early and was out the door with more than enough time to arrive at Brussels cental station. In Belgium, and especially Brussels, everything is displayed in French and Flemish. Thinking that Central and Midi were more or less the same thing, I arrived at what I thought to be the right train station. I was wrong. Had plenty of time so tried to catch a train to Midi, but that was delayed. Arrived right at 9:13 right as my train was leaving, but no signs to direct me where to go. Ended up missing my train, but talked with the Thalys (French) rail people and after a good natured joking around on their part, ended up hopping on the train. A short while later, arrived in Paris.
Rest of Amsterdam...
Hey all,
Our last full day in Amsterdam was a lovely one. Emily and I started out by renting bikes and took those over to a market to the northwest of us. We walked around there for a bit, grabbing crepes for breakfast and stocking up on some groceries for a picnic to be had later in Vondelpark. After having finished the last book I read, found a stall in the street selling English books and picked up Jack Keroac's On the Road and Alice in Wonderland. Figure they should be interesting reads. Already started On the Road which certainly has peaked my travel interest.
At any rate, we followed the market with a trip to a coffeeshop before heading off to try and find Electric Lady Land. Emily hadn't written down exact directions so it was a bit hard to find but we eventually worked our way back to it (after having walked past it 20 minutes earlier). This was quite the stop. Imagine a shop with flourescent art everywhere. Greeting us there was an old hippie dude from New York originally but had lived in Amsterdam for the past 20 some years. He led us downstairs where he had a collection of flourescent rocks which turned under the blacklight as well as a giant Hindi themed sculpture he had made-completely flourescent, quite out there. The best part was the guy himself, a complete hippy, but very genuine about it. You could tell he had found his life's calling: flourescent rocks, Hinduism, and psychadelics.
After that, we headed off to Vondelpark. We lucked out, catching the end of a jazz set as we ate our picnic lunch. After biking around the park we found a nice grassy spot by a pond and watched some ducks for a while. We then headed back to the the hostel and changed and went out for a few drinks. Pretty much an uneventful night but a nice, easy one.
Next day I left for Brussels and my sister for Paris.
Our last full day in Amsterdam was a lovely one. Emily and I started out by renting bikes and took those over to a market to the northwest of us. We walked around there for a bit, grabbing crepes for breakfast and stocking up on some groceries for a picnic to be had later in Vondelpark. After having finished the last book I read, found a stall in the street selling English books and picked up Jack Keroac's On the Road and Alice in Wonderland. Figure they should be interesting reads. Already started On the Road which certainly has peaked my travel interest.
At any rate, we followed the market with a trip to a coffeeshop before heading off to try and find Electric Lady Land. Emily hadn't written down exact directions so it was a bit hard to find but we eventually worked our way back to it (after having walked past it 20 minutes earlier). This was quite the stop. Imagine a shop with flourescent art everywhere. Greeting us there was an old hippie dude from New York originally but had lived in Amsterdam for the past 20 some years. He led us downstairs where he had a collection of flourescent rocks which turned under the blacklight as well as a giant Hindi themed sculpture he had made-completely flourescent, quite out there. The best part was the guy himself, a complete hippy, but very genuine about it. You could tell he had found his life's calling: flourescent rocks, Hinduism, and psychadelics.
After that, we headed off to Vondelpark. We lucked out, catching the end of a jazz set as we ate our picnic lunch. After biking around the park we found a nice grassy spot by a pond and watched some ducks for a while. We then headed back to the the hostel and changed and went out for a few drinks. Pretty much an uneventful night but a nice, easy one.
Next day I left for Brussels and my sister for Paris.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Interlaken
Raining just a bit, so will take the time to write a bit more...
After the night train and a connection from Bern, Emily and I arrived in Interlaken around noon. Checked our bags and had a change of clothes then I went off for a hike up Harder Kulm. Not a hard hike, but a very enjoyable and rewarding one with a fantastic view of the valley that Interlaken and its lakes sit in. Only an hour and a half up and about an hour down. At the top treated myself to an apple tart with a bit of ice cream. Solid snack.
Got to the hostel again and took a much needed shower. Went with Em and some Canadian girls and a Scotsman and hit up the hostel's happy hour, two for one. Turned into quite the night, drinking games all around.
Next morning struggled to get up but then rented a bike. Tried to recreate the bike ride I had done from four years ago and did quite well on it. Absolutely beautiful ride although quite an elevation change. Made the mistake of taking a gondola to Gimmelwald as oppose to Murren, which is about a 400m difference in elevation, over a short distance. I had to walk my bike up most of it and the thin air didn't help. On the trail down, managed to get lost and found myself on a hiking trail rather than a biking trail. Really steep with giant ledges off to the sides and roots and rocks all over the trail. Nearly died a few times and had to walk my bike over long stretches as it was just too steep to ride. Definitely fun though. Got back to the hostel and started up happy hour all over again although considerably a lesser night. Quite the commotion at the hostel though as a few guests managed to get quite drunk. Hostel culture has it's ups and downs.
On Wednesday, Emily and I woke up and chilled around for a bit until a bus came around 12 to take us skydiving. Yes, skydiving. We got there and suited up immediately and within 10 minutes were in the plane. The ride up was fantastic with beautiful views of Interlaken. When the time came, I was right by the door. The guy I was diving with told me to stick my legs over the side. 3, 2, 1. Out the door. Didn't even have time to think about it. What a rush. It doesn't really hit you a first that you just jumped out of a plane, then about 10 seconds in you realize you're freefalling. So good. Wish I could upload the video but I left it in Interlaken so will have that mailed home. Emily had a blast as well. Celebrated with a few beers that night as well.
Yesterday spent most of the day in transit from Interlaken to Amsterdam. Arrived around 8pm and then made our way on a walkabout throughout the city. Visited a coffeeshop and well that was that.
Went to the Rijksmuseum today which houses some fantastic art of particular Dutch historical relevance. Spent the rest of the day walking around and planning on meeting up tonight with some Canadian friends from Barcelona and perhaps the cute Aussie chic I had met in Dublin.
Having a great time, needless to say.
After the night train and a connection from Bern, Emily and I arrived in Interlaken around noon. Checked our bags and had a change of clothes then I went off for a hike up Harder Kulm. Not a hard hike, but a very enjoyable and rewarding one with a fantastic view of the valley that Interlaken and its lakes sit in. Only an hour and a half up and about an hour down. At the top treated myself to an apple tart with a bit of ice cream. Solid snack.
Got to the hostel again and took a much needed shower. Went with Em and some Canadian girls and a Scotsman and hit up the hostel's happy hour, two for one. Turned into quite the night, drinking games all around.
Next morning struggled to get up but then rented a bike. Tried to recreate the bike ride I had done from four years ago and did quite well on it. Absolutely beautiful ride although quite an elevation change. Made the mistake of taking a gondola to Gimmelwald as oppose to Murren, which is about a 400m difference in elevation, over a short distance. I had to walk my bike up most of it and the thin air didn't help. On the trail down, managed to get lost and found myself on a hiking trail rather than a biking trail. Really steep with giant ledges off to the sides and roots and rocks all over the trail. Nearly died a few times and had to walk my bike over long stretches as it was just too steep to ride. Definitely fun though. Got back to the hostel and started up happy hour all over again although considerably a lesser night. Quite the commotion at the hostel though as a few guests managed to get quite drunk. Hostel culture has it's ups and downs.
On Wednesday, Emily and I woke up and chilled around for a bit until a bus came around 12 to take us skydiving. Yes, skydiving. We got there and suited up immediately and within 10 minutes were in the plane. The ride up was fantastic with beautiful views of Interlaken. When the time came, I was right by the door. The guy I was diving with told me to stick my legs over the side. 3, 2, 1. Out the door. Didn't even have time to think about it. What a rush. It doesn't really hit you a first that you just jumped out of a plane, then about 10 seconds in you realize you're freefalling. So good. Wish I could upload the video but I left it in Interlaken so will have that mailed home. Emily had a blast as well. Celebrated with a few beers that night as well.
Yesterday spent most of the day in transit from Interlaken to Amsterdam. Arrived around 8pm and then made our way on a walkabout throughout the city. Visited a coffeeshop and well that was that.
Went to the Rijksmuseum today which houses some fantastic art of particular Dutch historical relevance. Spent the rest of the day walking around and planning on meeting up tonight with some Canadian friends from Barcelona and perhaps the cute Aussie chic I had met in Dublin.
Having a great time, needless to say.
Barca
It's been quite a while since the last update so a few cities to go through here. Our night train to Barcelona was a bit rough. No AC, bad seats, smelly Europeans. But we made it through. Upon getting into Barcelona went to the hostel to check all that out and drop our bags. Couldn't check in until 2 so met some people in the lobby/cafeteria downstairs and went on a Gaudi walking tour. Met another Cal kid from a few years back which was interesting as well as a girl from NYU but originally from Los Angeles and had a few mutual friends there which was neat. The Gaudi walking tour itself wasn't much but it was a good way to see the city. The Sagrada Familia, his Cathedral, was spectacular but still another 25 years or so in the making. Definitely unlike any other church I've ever seen. His Parc Guell was quite something as well, his style works very well with Barcelona's vibrant personality.
After the tour we headed back to the hostel where we changed, got some beers and sandwiches and headed to the beach with a few friends from the hostel. Quite a good time chilling there, although quite disturbing as some fellows from Taiwan had a bag of theirs stolen right from under their (and our) noses. We didn't even see the thiefs take it, they were quick and good. Needless to say, we were especially careful for the rest of the trip.
That night, went out and tried to meet up with a friend from Cal but it wasn't to be. Instead bar hopped with some kids from the hostel and had quite a good time doing that.
Next morning woke up and headed out for Cadaques/Port Lligat where Dali made his home for a good deal of his life. Took a long time to get there and Emily was a bit frustrated. In the end though it all worked out and was well worth it. Upon getting into Cadaques we walked over to Port Lligat and walked around the area for a bit before entering Dali's home. Absolutely beautiful there. And they have scuba diving.... hmm.... got me to thinking, maybe I'll go back and work there? At any rate, the Casa Museu de Dali was spectacular. He had a stuffed polar bear, maniquins, and all sorts of weird stuff in there. But a very charming Mediterrannean style home. After the tour, we walked back to Cadaques where we sat in a beachside cafe and had a small snack. Upon getting back into Barcelona that night decided we were a bit tired so just called it there. Could have stayed up to watch the Stanley Cup finals game at 3 in the morning, but guess it's better I didn't. Still a bit bitter that Detroit lost.
Next morning woke up feeling refreshed from a long night's sleep. Went off with Sophia, the NYU/Los Angeles kid, and hit up La Boqueria, Barcelona's market. How fantastic that was! Everywhere you went were clashes of colors of fruits and veggies, the smells of seafood, pork heads on display in butcher stalls. We settled on a ciabatta baguette and got some spanish ham, cheese, cilantro, and tomatoes and went back to the hostel to make open sandwiches with. One of the better meals I've had in Spain. Met up with Emily later and with a few other friends again headed down to the beach.
While down at the beach, looked over a few spots and thought I saw what looked to be some friends of mine from Cal. Now when traveling I find there to be odd connections all the time, this was a bit of a surprise to me. After looking over a good 50 times or so, eventually decided it was Natalia and Bryan and said hi. They were as shocked as I was. Made plans to meet up that night.
Around 6 or so, we all met up and headed to this place called La Champagneria. All my friends who had studied abroad in Barcelona had said this was the place to go, and it most definitely was. They sell cheap champagne there with tapas and that's a combination that's hard to beat. For the 7 of us there, three glasses of champagne and many dishes of jamon, chorizo, cheese, etc. came out to only 35€. Amazing deal. Ran into my friend Benji, who I had met and traveled with in Hong Kong there and we headed out with his friend Alfredo to another couple bars.
Kept the revelry going until near midnight when we left the hostel with Benji and Alfredo to go to Razzmatazz, a club in Barca that is the favorite of many of my friends. We were all quite drunk which was a good thing going in as drinks were 7€ a piece. Had a great time though, but some memories from that night a bit fuzzy.
Next day was an easy one for myself, taking the opportunity to get some laundry done. Met up with Natalia and Bryan for lunch and a bit of a goodbye then gathered up Emily and made our way for the train station. Had a much better train this time, although for 48€ it better have been. Ended up seated next to Jeanine and Kyle, friends of ours from the Barca hostel. We'll be meeting up with them tonight in Amsterdam.
I'll write about Interlaken on the next sitting, not sure when it'll be. Had a great time there though, and Amsterdam is shaping up to be pretty good too.
After the tour we headed back to the hostel where we changed, got some beers and sandwiches and headed to the beach with a few friends from the hostel. Quite a good time chilling there, although quite disturbing as some fellows from Taiwan had a bag of theirs stolen right from under their (and our) noses. We didn't even see the thiefs take it, they were quick and good. Needless to say, we were especially careful for the rest of the trip.
That night, went out and tried to meet up with a friend from Cal but it wasn't to be. Instead bar hopped with some kids from the hostel and had quite a good time doing that.
Next morning woke up and headed out for Cadaques/Port Lligat where Dali made his home for a good deal of his life. Took a long time to get there and Emily was a bit frustrated. In the end though it all worked out and was well worth it. Upon getting into Cadaques we walked over to Port Lligat and walked around the area for a bit before entering Dali's home. Absolutely beautiful there. And they have scuba diving.... hmm.... got me to thinking, maybe I'll go back and work there? At any rate, the Casa Museu de Dali was spectacular. He had a stuffed polar bear, maniquins, and all sorts of weird stuff in there. But a very charming Mediterrannean style home. After the tour, we walked back to Cadaques where we sat in a beachside cafe and had a small snack. Upon getting back into Barcelona that night decided we were a bit tired so just called it there. Could have stayed up to watch the Stanley Cup finals game at 3 in the morning, but guess it's better I didn't. Still a bit bitter that Detroit lost.
Next morning woke up feeling refreshed from a long night's sleep. Went off with Sophia, the NYU/Los Angeles kid, and hit up La Boqueria, Barcelona's market. How fantastic that was! Everywhere you went were clashes of colors of fruits and veggies, the smells of seafood, pork heads on display in butcher stalls. We settled on a ciabatta baguette and got some spanish ham, cheese, cilantro, and tomatoes and went back to the hostel to make open sandwiches with. One of the better meals I've had in Spain. Met up with Emily later and with a few other friends again headed down to the beach.
While down at the beach, looked over a few spots and thought I saw what looked to be some friends of mine from Cal. Now when traveling I find there to be odd connections all the time, this was a bit of a surprise to me. After looking over a good 50 times or so, eventually decided it was Natalia and Bryan and said hi. They were as shocked as I was. Made plans to meet up that night.
Around 6 or so, we all met up and headed to this place called La Champagneria. All my friends who had studied abroad in Barcelona had said this was the place to go, and it most definitely was. They sell cheap champagne there with tapas and that's a combination that's hard to beat. For the 7 of us there, three glasses of champagne and many dishes of jamon, chorizo, cheese, etc. came out to only 35€. Amazing deal. Ran into my friend Benji, who I had met and traveled with in Hong Kong there and we headed out with his friend Alfredo to another couple bars.
Kept the revelry going until near midnight when we left the hostel with Benji and Alfredo to go to Razzmatazz, a club in Barca that is the favorite of many of my friends. We were all quite drunk which was a good thing going in as drinks were 7€ a piece. Had a great time though, but some memories from that night a bit fuzzy.
Next day was an easy one for myself, taking the opportunity to get some laundry done. Met up with Natalia and Bryan for lunch and a bit of a goodbye then gathered up Emily and made our way for the train station. Had a much better train this time, although for 48€ it better have been. Ended up seated next to Jeanine and Kyle, friends of ours from the Barca hostel. We'll be meeting up with them tonight in Amsterdam.
I'll write about Interlaken on the next sitting, not sure when it'll be. Had a great time there though, and Amsterdam is shaping up to be pretty good too.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Hope my parachute opens up!
Haven't posted in a while I know, but was having too much fun in Barcelona and here in Interlaken the internet is super expensive.
Will write more from Amsterdam. Off to go skydiving now!
Will write more from Amsterdam. Off to go skydiving now!
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Yeah, guess I could live in Grenada
Grenada turned out to be a great town and incredibly livable. I´d love to spend some more time there. After parking the car, we made our way to our hostel which very well could have been placed in Paris and nothign would have seemd out of place. The owners/managers were french and there was what was most likely a high school field trip there from somewhere in France. Couple other guests in the hostel were french as well. This was probably much to the delight of my father, who will speak french at any chance he can get.
The first afternoon in Grenada was spent taking care of various errands like train tickets and fixing watches and whatnot. Had a pretty good dinner that night along the pedestrian Calle Navas and always nice to people watch from the outdoor tables.
Speaking of people watching, I´ve always felt that Europe has amazingly beautiful women. Grenada was a whole new level. Pretty much every other block or so was a head-turner, I´m surprised I didn´t run into a pole or trashcan or anything. So, maybe I´ll take some time in Grenada in the future in order to woo some beautiful Spanish lady?
Anyways, the city itself it should be noted is small and very European. Small little alleys everywhere and everybody walking around all the time. Tons of bars and restaurants. Some places looked a little bit like more Europeanized versions of Reston in VA or Bay Street in Emeryville, CA. Fountains every other block. Great little plazas. All just so visually pleasing. We had great weather as well. While it´s been hot today (over 100 degrees in Sevilla) our time in Grenada was low 80´s at the highest.
Yesterday we went to see the Alhambra, a Spanish royal palace compete with gardens. A mixture of classic and Moorish architecture, the place was stunning. Immaculately tended gardens, calming walks, all sorts of good ol´European royalty dwelling whatnot. When I get pictures up I´ll let them do the talking.
Nightlife in Grenada was a bit mixed, although Emily and I only went out on Monday and Tuesday, supposedly slow nights. On Monday stopped in at an Irish pub to start (something we very well may make tradition) and then over to a club which left a little something to be desired. Budweiser on tap? Meh. Was great to people watch there though and we talked with a Spanish guy for a good 15 minutes, trying to figure out what American rock bands he was saying he liked - quite a thick accent, and my spanish not quite there. The next night started with a Irish pub again and managed to be there during open mic time. After that headed out across the street to what seemed to be a bar with clientele of most American study abroads and other english speakers. Emily turned in a bit early but after walking her home I headed back out and talked with a big Norweigan dude who had some of the funniest sayings. We agreed that no matter where you are though, beer is beer, and hence the new name of this blog.
Off to the train station now for our night ride to Barcelona. Regular seats. Should be interesting. Have quite a few friends in Barcelona though so looking forward to that.
The first afternoon in Grenada was spent taking care of various errands like train tickets and fixing watches and whatnot. Had a pretty good dinner that night along the pedestrian Calle Navas and always nice to people watch from the outdoor tables.
Speaking of people watching, I´ve always felt that Europe has amazingly beautiful women. Grenada was a whole new level. Pretty much every other block or so was a head-turner, I´m surprised I didn´t run into a pole or trashcan or anything. So, maybe I´ll take some time in Grenada in the future in order to woo some beautiful Spanish lady?
Anyways, the city itself it should be noted is small and very European. Small little alleys everywhere and everybody walking around all the time. Tons of bars and restaurants. Some places looked a little bit like more Europeanized versions of Reston in VA or Bay Street in Emeryville, CA. Fountains every other block. Great little plazas. All just so visually pleasing. We had great weather as well. While it´s been hot today (over 100 degrees in Sevilla) our time in Grenada was low 80´s at the highest.
Yesterday we went to see the Alhambra, a Spanish royal palace compete with gardens. A mixture of classic and Moorish architecture, the place was stunning. Immaculately tended gardens, calming walks, all sorts of good ol´European royalty dwelling whatnot. When I get pictures up I´ll let them do the talking.
Nightlife in Grenada was a bit mixed, although Emily and I only went out on Monday and Tuesday, supposedly slow nights. On Monday stopped in at an Irish pub to start (something we very well may make tradition) and then over to a club which left a little something to be desired. Budweiser on tap? Meh. Was great to people watch there though and we talked with a Spanish guy for a good 15 minutes, trying to figure out what American rock bands he was saying he liked - quite a thick accent, and my spanish not quite there. The next night started with a Irish pub again and managed to be there during open mic time. After that headed out across the street to what seemed to be a bar with clientele of most American study abroads and other english speakers. Emily turned in a bit early but after walking her home I headed back out and talked with a big Norweigan dude who had some of the funniest sayings. We agreed that no matter where you are though, beer is beer, and hence the new name of this blog.
Off to the train station now for our night ride to Barcelona. Regular seats. Should be interesting. Have quite a few friends in Barcelona though so looking forward to that.
The good thing about traveling with parents...
Following Sevilla, the ´rents rented a car (Audi A4) and we headed out of town towards Cordoba. Took a quick tour of the town for a bit, seeing La Mezquita/the Catedral which was quite impressive. Seeing as how Corboda has changed hands many times over its history, there is a real mix of architecture in the city. That being said though, kinda churched out that this point. While they are all certainly impressive, it begins to all melt together once you see too many of them.
After Cordoba, we finished our drive to a town called Jaen. On top of one of the hills there is a giant castle started in the 10th century. Turns out to be a hotel too and is where we stayed. Now this is where it´s great traveling with parents, you get a fair share of really nice accomodations. Large beds, balcony that looked out onto a beautiful mountain range, nice bathroom, and one of those french post-toilet things that I still don´t know how to use, but nice to have? Was certainly a nice change of pace to stay in a place like that and rest up a bit. And the breakfast buffet the next morning? Killer.
The morning after (Monday?) we had a slow morning and drove into Grenada. Parents seemed to be quite lost getting in, and even though the Audi is such a nice car, neither could really seem to figure out how to work the clutch. Em and I just sat in the backseat trying not to get involved, would have been much crazier then... I´ll keep my posts short, Grenada on the next one...
After Cordoba, we finished our drive to a town called Jaen. On top of one of the hills there is a giant castle started in the 10th century. Turns out to be a hotel too and is where we stayed. Now this is where it´s great traveling with parents, you get a fair share of really nice accomodations. Large beds, balcony that looked out onto a beautiful mountain range, nice bathroom, and one of those french post-toilet things that I still don´t know how to use, but nice to have? Was certainly a nice change of pace to stay in a place like that and rest up a bit. And the breakfast buffet the next morning? Killer.
The morning after (Monday?) we had a slow morning and drove into Grenada. Parents seemed to be quite lost getting in, and even though the Audi is such a nice car, neither could really seem to figure out how to work the clutch. Em and I just sat in the backseat trying not to get involved, would have been much crazier then... I´ll keep my posts short, Grenada on the next one...
Monday, June 8, 2009
Sevilla, Te Amo
When I had traveled Europe 4 years ago, I had absolutely fallen in love with Sevilla and it didn´t take long for it to happen again. So much charm to it. Just feels right. After checking into our hotel, we went out in search of some great paella that Alfonso had recommended to us. We split the last of the two servings they had and it was quite good. The rest of the day was spent walking around Sevilla and getting caught in a bit of rain but just passed it by from a cafe.
Dinner that night was at a local seafood place. We did quite well in the shrimp department and put down a plate of smaller ones and medium sized ones and then two plates of these massive grilled shrimp about 6 inches long. Absolutely delicious. Upon getting home that night, decided I needed a break from family so went out around midnight to find some trouble. Walked along the river where a bunch of bars are and was a bit discouraged at first. While my spanish is alright, it´s not good enough to hold down a conversation, so the lack of english speakers was a bit of a problem. Decided to check one more bar and ran into a bunch of American college students on a summer program. It turned into one of those kind of nights, with bar hopping, discoteca-ing, and generally too much alcohol. And apparently my spanish is good enough as I met a spanish chica at the last bar we were at. Ended up calling it a night at 6 in the morning and walked home halfway across the city. Good times.
The next day woke up quite hungover but determined to make a day out of it. After scarfing down a jamon y queso bocadillo (sandwich) went and saw the Catedral which is always amazing, and thankfully the tower was open this time so went up for an amazing view of the city. After that wandered around for a bit and then went into Alcazar, the palace there for a while. Closed off the day with a bit of a rest and a dinner that was one of the worst I´ve ever had, but they happen. Overall have been eating so well over here. Ah, Europe.
I´m a few days behind but mom is breathing down my neck to get on the computer now. So, I´ll write more later.
Much love to all.
Dinner that night was at a local seafood place. We did quite well in the shrimp department and put down a plate of smaller ones and medium sized ones and then two plates of these massive grilled shrimp about 6 inches long. Absolutely delicious. Upon getting home that night, decided I needed a break from family so went out around midnight to find some trouble. Walked along the river where a bunch of bars are and was a bit discouraged at first. While my spanish is alright, it´s not good enough to hold down a conversation, so the lack of english speakers was a bit of a problem. Decided to check one more bar and ran into a bunch of American college students on a summer program. It turned into one of those kind of nights, with bar hopping, discoteca-ing, and generally too much alcohol. And apparently my spanish is good enough as I met a spanish chica at the last bar we were at. Ended up calling it a night at 6 in the morning and walked home halfway across the city. Good times.
The next day woke up quite hungover but determined to make a day out of it. After scarfing down a jamon y queso bocadillo (sandwich) went and saw the Catedral which is always amazing, and thankfully the tower was open this time so went up for an amazing view of the city. After that wandered around for a bit and then went into Alcazar, the palace there for a while. Closed off the day with a bit of a rest and a dinner that was one of the worst I´ve ever had, but they happen. Overall have been eating so well over here. Ah, Europe.
I´m a few days behind but mom is breathing down my neck to get on the computer now. So, I´ll write more later.
Much love to all.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
the "Most Interesting Man in the World" does not drink Dos Equis...
Many of you I am sure are familiar with the Dos Equis commercials revolving around the "Most Interesting Man..." deal. Well, spend a night with our family friend Alfonso and I´m sure you´d find that he puts the Dos Equis hombre to shame.
We met Alphonso at Tapas Patas, the same place I had met him four years ago. After some excellent jamon, croquetas, and something else (?) we headed over to a flamenco show where we had dinner. I was fortunate to share a cab with Alphonso on the way over. While Dos Equis Hombre may have once taught a German Shepherd to bark in Spanish, Alphonso once threw a private spur of the moment flamenco party for Paul McCartney in Cannes, just because he could. Add that to all sorts of stories regarding movie premiers (a Neil Diamond movie in Seattle?) etc etc... this guy is so very interesting. And not only interesting, but so very kind and welcoming. Certainly one of the better people out there.
After dinner and flamenco we headed back to the hotel. I figured to stay out for a bit and try and catch the Redwings game. Just saw the first period before the bar closed down at 3 but met a pair of girls on foreign exchange in Spain and went out to a club with them till late.
We woke up early the next day to go to Toledo but the train was booked so ended up going to the Reina Sofia instead. Not quite as impressive as when I saw it first, but always good to see the works of Dali, Miro, and Picasso. Guernica is still an awe-inspiring piece. Went back to the hotel after that for a long siesta.
Reluctantly woke from the siesta to go out for some tapas but I was pretty tired. I haven´t been sleeping well at all but such is traveling. Many of you will probably say I´m not sleeping well because I´ve been partying, but such is not really the case, compared to my last few weeks in Berkeley I´ve been quite tame this trip.
Today we made it Toledo and it´s a very charming old medieval city but not for an entire day. Still got a few hours till our train back to Madrid and seen just about all there is to see. But that being said, it has a very large Catedral and just being able to walk through the streets has been great. Small and very European feeling.
Hopefully will go out tonight. Have been listening to Pandora (Crookers channel, duh) and ready for a little dancing a la discoteca... vamos a ver.
We met Alphonso at Tapas Patas, the same place I had met him four years ago. After some excellent jamon, croquetas, and something else (?) we headed over to a flamenco show where we had dinner. I was fortunate to share a cab with Alphonso on the way over. While Dos Equis Hombre may have once taught a German Shepherd to bark in Spanish, Alphonso once threw a private spur of the moment flamenco party for Paul McCartney in Cannes, just because he could. Add that to all sorts of stories regarding movie premiers (a Neil Diamond movie in Seattle?) etc etc... this guy is so very interesting. And not only interesting, but so very kind and welcoming. Certainly one of the better people out there.
After dinner and flamenco we headed back to the hotel. I figured to stay out for a bit and try and catch the Redwings game. Just saw the first period before the bar closed down at 3 but met a pair of girls on foreign exchange in Spain and went out to a club with them till late.
We woke up early the next day to go to Toledo but the train was booked so ended up going to the Reina Sofia instead. Not quite as impressive as when I saw it first, but always good to see the works of Dali, Miro, and Picasso. Guernica is still an awe-inspiring piece. Went back to the hotel after that for a long siesta.
Reluctantly woke from the siesta to go out for some tapas but I was pretty tired. I haven´t been sleeping well at all but such is traveling. Many of you will probably say I´m not sleeping well because I´ve been partying, but such is not really the case, compared to my last few weeks in Berkeley I´ve been quite tame this trip.
Today we made it Toledo and it´s a very charming old medieval city but not for an entire day. Still got a few hours till our train back to Madrid and seen just about all there is to see. But that being said, it has a very large Catedral and just being able to walk through the streets has been great. Small and very European feeling.
Hopefully will go out tonight. Have been listening to Pandora (Crookers channel, duh) and ready for a little dancing a la discoteca... vamos a ver.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
en España...
Arrived in Madrid yesterday and immediately remembered why I love Spain so much: charming architecture, great food, a vibrant city buzz and the most beautiful women on the planet. After getting into our hotel last night we headed out for tapas. Bocarones (anchovies), jamon (ham), a Spanish tortilla, calamari, and mushrooms with garlic were a lovely start to the culinary joy that is sure to be Spain. Emily and I left the parents after dinner and grabbed a few beers at a bar.
Today the family went to go see mom´s old apartment went she used to live in Madrid 40 years ago. It was quite interesting to see and was great to see Mom in her nostalgic element. Went to a local market as well and it absolutely blows away all markets in the US. Wish I lived here just for the food alone. After all that, I separated out for a bit and too the metro around the city to various stops. Currently enjoying a bit of a siesta and may go for a run although the heat isn´t too appealing.
Tonight we´ll be meeting up with Alphonso, an old friend of the family. Last time I was in Madrid Alphonso showed me a night that places easily within the top 5 of all time party nights. Started with tapas and flamenco and took off once the 60 year old plus said "Tonight I feel good, we go to discoteca!" Eventually he passed me off to some absolutely gorgeous young amigas of his and I was endoctrinated into the Madird nightlife by some absolutely beautiful ladies. Perhaps tonight I can hope for more of the same? I can only hope. If not I found a bar that will be showing game 3 of the Stanley Cup finals so maybe I´ll get a chance to see my Redwings play. Either way, should be a great night.
Overall, everything is fantastic. Can be a bit agrivating traveling with family at times as we all have very different travel styles. But it´s great to be with them, and the parents are largely picking up the tab, so I can´t really complain.
Off for a siesta or run. Viva la vida.
Today the family went to go see mom´s old apartment went she used to live in Madrid 40 years ago. It was quite interesting to see and was great to see Mom in her nostalgic element. Went to a local market as well and it absolutely blows away all markets in the US. Wish I lived here just for the food alone. After all that, I separated out for a bit and too the metro around the city to various stops. Currently enjoying a bit of a siesta and may go for a run although the heat isn´t too appealing.
Tonight we´ll be meeting up with Alphonso, an old friend of the family. Last time I was in Madrid Alphonso showed me a night that places easily within the top 5 of all time party nights. Started with tapas and flamenco and took off once the 60 year old plus said "Tonight I feel good, we go to discoteca!" Eventually he passed me off to some absolutely gorgeous young amigas of his and I was endoctrinated into the Madird nightlife by some absolutely beautiful ladies. Perhaps tonight I can hope for more of the same? I can only hope. If not I found a bar that will be showing game 3 of the Stanley Cup finals so maybe I´ll get a chance to see my Redwings play. Either way, should be a great night.
Overall, everything is fantastic. Can be a bit agrivating traveling with family at times as we all have very different travel styles. But it´s great to be with them, and the parents are largely picking up the tab, so I can´t really complain.
Off for a siesta or run. Viva la vida.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Dublin
Alright, here we go again...
After having graduated nearly two weeks ago (seems like so much longer, been a busy two weeks) I've made my way back on the travel circuit. This time, a family vacation, probably one of the last we'll be able to have in a while although I'm sure they'll be plenty more down the road.
At any rate, we've started off our travels in Dublin, Ireland. After a red-eye flight with little sleep we arrived early on a Saturday morning. Unable to check into our hostel, the family rested while I took a long walk around the city. It's not very big at all and covered a good half of the tourist map in a matter of 45 minutes or so. That being said, it's incredibly beautiful here and quite clean. Reminds me a bit of places in Sydney.
Saturday afternoon I took a nap instead of heading to the pub to watch the FA cup final between Everton and Chelsea. While a nap was much needed, I do regret not having seen the game here. I saw the UEFA final in New York city and it's amazing how much better watching soccer is when you have a pint and a bunch of rowdy soccer fans to go with.
That night we had dinner as a family and then headed out to an Irish pub to take in the environment. It's true, Guinness does taste better over here, and it was great having the chance to drink a fair bit while Dad bought. An Irish band played in the pub and was good. Dad sang along naturally, and was off tone, naturally as well. Went out a bit later on that night with Emily and had a good time of it. Stayed out with some hostel friends for a bit later.
Woke up Sunday feeling fine but then the hungover snuck up on me later. Not fun at all. Ended up touring the Guinness factory that afternoon with the family and after went with my mom to check out some of old sailing tall ships that had come into Dublin for some sort of festival. Was feeling really tired as the night wore on but after dinner rebounded with a shower and a few beers and went out by myself later. Fortunately for me ran into a cute Aussie girl so enjoyed conversation with her for a bit and called it an early night.
Off to Spain this afternoon. Can't wait, land of tapas, sangria, and the most beautiful women on the planet. Life, as always, is pretty good.
After having graduated nearly two weeks ago (seems like so much longer, been a busy two weeks) I've made my way back on the travel circuit. This time, a family vacation, probably one of the last we'll be able to have in a while although I'm sure they'll be plenty more down the road.
At any rate, we've started off our travels in Dublin, Ireland. After a red-eye flight with little sleep we arrived early on a Saturday morning. Unable to check into our hostel, the family rested while I took a long walk around the city. It's not very big at all and covered a good half of the tourist map in a matter of 45 minutes or so. That being said, it's incredibly beautiful here and quite clean. Reminds me a bit of places in Sydney.
Saturday afternoon I took a nap instead of heading to the pub to watch the FA cup final between Everton and Chelsea. While a nap was much needed, I do regret not having seen the game here. I saw the UEFA final in New York city and it's amazing how much better watching soccer is when you have a pint and a bunch of rowdy soccer fans to go with.
That night we had dinner as a family and then headed out to an Irish pub to take in the environment. It's true, Guinness does taste better over here, and it was great having the chance to drink a fair bit while Dad bought. An Irish band played in the pub and was good. Dad sang along naturally, and was off tone, naturally as well. Went out a bit later on that night with Emily and had a good time of it. Stayed out with some hostel friends for a bit later.
Woke up Sunday feeling fine but then the hungover snuck up on me later. Not fun at all. Ended up touring the Guinness factory that afternoon with the family and after went with my mom to check out some of old sailing tall ships that had come into Dublin for some sort of festival. Was feeling really tired as the night wore on but after dinner rebounded with a shower and a few beers and went out by myself later. Fortunately for me ran into a cute Aussie girl so enjoyed conversation with her for a bit and called it an early night.
Off to Spain this afternoon. Can't wait, land of tapas, sangria, and the most beautiful women on the planet. Life, as always, is pretty good.
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