So tomorrow, actually 4 hours from now, I'm going back to the US. I know, I haven't written about Madrid, don't worry, it is in the works. So I thought I'd make a list of all the things I loved/hated/remember about Europe, in no particular order.
1. The food (of course). I tried everything, I hated almost nothing and was inspired by it all.
2. Analise Spacucello and Holly Lynch. I don't even know where to begin. Our times together...amazing.
3. Living with Sylvia. I'm really glad there is someone around to back up my crazy stories. And she was a great room mate.
4. Sharing food with Craig. I got to try twice as much and he didn't even give me one disease!
5. Dancing with Jessica, Michelle, and Kate. Ya'll are a good time.
6. Staying with Isabelle. I haven't known anyone in my life longer and I love that we still act the same around each other even though we haven't been around each other in over a year. Please come to Houston to spoon with me. Oh, and her family is pretty amazing as well.
7. La Senora (in Barcelona). While she was a sweet lady, I have been inspired to clean everything with bleach and potty train my dogs to go outside.
8. John C. Wilcox, Jordi, Silvia, and Marianna. This trip would not have been the same without them. I saw the city in a way I never would have been able to, and they rock, duh.
9. The art. I feel so much more cultured. Isabelle and I were at the Prado and I recognized a Velásquez across the room. I was pretty proud. Now, ask me about stuff we saw at the MNAC and I can only think of the lady laying on the couch in the bright pink pants...
10. The beaches. Usually I get really antsy and hot, but the beaches here have been truly amazing, I could lay on them for hours. They have perhaps ruined Galveston for me. Okay, Galveston ruined itself.
11. Living without the luxuries I'm used to. While I missed certain things (AIR CONDITIONING, dryers, cake mix, and free water at restaurants), I'm in freaking Europe, who cares?
12. I have a new appreciation for traveling light.
13. Nothing fixes a sangria hangover like some Hot Doks.
14. Paying in Euros. While the money is prettier, the exchange rate is not.
15. My newly acquired Spanish language. Sometimes it helped me a lot (I have all sorts of new, wonderful ways to drop the f-bomb), and sometimes it was my arch-nemesis (I recall missing a train because I couldn't understand what was going on. Cool).
16. Scotch...and wine...and gin...and mojitos...and vodka gimlets...and beer...and sangria...and being of legal age and not having to sneak around.
17. Animal Balls and Boy Scouts.
18. Talking to strangers everywhere, especially the train. On the train, they are stuck with you for hours and are forced to be polite and listen. And look at your pictures.
19. Not getting anything stolen from me. Well, my sunglasses are no where to be found but that is the only casualty.
20. Hygiene. I have a completely different approach that the US might not be ready for.
21. 5A. When you are 7 hours away from home, after a few drinks, 5A is a wonderful time to call your parents. Ask them, they'll tell you how much they loved hearing from me then.
22. Yulie. Seriously? How does anyone put up with a dog whose restroom is behind the couch and begs for food by barking and jumping?
23. The Eiffel Tower. I really was blown away.
24. My new euro style. Which is the same as before: sweatpants and a t-shirt and flip flops. But this time with a scarf.
25. The smells. Barcelona smells like potty. Nice smells like ocean. Paris smells like love. And Madrid smells like something I can't quite put my finger on.
26. Creepy religious stuff. Seriously, it is everywhere and I love every bit of it.
27. Waking up with new bug bites. Mosquitoes? Bed bugs? Who knows?
28. Having more than 50 pictures that have to be filed in the inappropriate folder that will be kept under lock, key, and password.
29. Carbs. It is amazing to be in a place that embraces and eats carbs like it's their job.
30. Fending for myself. Sometimes, I've had to fend for myself. Which is good and bad, mostly good.
I don't know if I've ever laughed harder in a period of two months or been more awestruck in my life. The people I have met on this trip have changed my life. This has been an amazing experience.
On a sadder note, as I was packing, I found out that my friend Harmony passed away yesterday. She was an amazing girl and one of the sweetest people I know and forgetting her will be impossible but loving her was easy.
I will now try and sleep for like, an hour (literally) before I have to wake up at 4:15A to take 4 planes between now (2:19A Madrid time, 7:19P Central Time) and 2:50P central time on Friday. Hopefully I will not encounter the motion sickness I enjoyed on the way here.
Au revoir and Hasta Luego!
6.25.2008
6.12.2008
Nice Was Nice, But Paris is Better
So now I'm in Paris. The city of love. Which is true. I've seen more people makeout here than I would ever see in the US. But last time I left off I was still in Nice, so I'll start there.
Sunday night we did not go out. We crumbed up the bed with baguette, did not bathe, and talked to some people in the lobby. And drank a lot of free juice that they had in the lobby of the hotel. Since we were still recovering from Barcelona, we went to bed early, and slept a night terror free night.
We woke up in the morning we woke up late and headed straight for the beach. On our way down the stairs we met a group of guys from Houston (Rice Village area) which was cool. We never spoke to them again, though. Upon arrival, we noticed a homeless man on the beach who had the worst skid marks on his whitie tighties (which served as his swimming trunks because he was washing and drying the rest of his clothes in the shower heads provided. Naturally, I captured him on camera and he has been dubbed 'Streaks'. We saw him later when we were out, once again passed out.
We laid on the beach for about 6 hours, getting surprisingly not burnt; rather brown like a pack of Mexicans. We finally showered (we hadn't done so since crossing the border, and maybe a couple days before that) and decided to head to old Nice to find dinner and something to do. First of all, Nice is purely tourist. And by tourists I mean old, rich, gay men. Its nice for a couple relaxing days at the beach, and the views are stunning. However, it is not in fact known for its nightlife. As we discovered. We went to a bar that we had gotten a flier for (amazing how publicity works) that advertised happy hour. Happy hour doesn't really exist in Europe to our knowledge, so we ran to Ma Nolans as fast as we could. They had some sort of beer on special and cocktails. I had a gin and tonic and a cosmopolitan. But it was not the cosmo I'm used to. It was more like a fruity, delicious girl drink. I loved it. While we waited for a table outside, we got to watch the France-Romania game in a French bar. Pretty awesome. European soccer fans put American football fans to shame. Then we got a table and had good, old-fashioned (although somewhat flame kissed) burgers and fries. After eating bread and cheese for pretty much 2 days, they were delish.
Afterwards, we went in and watched the Netherlands crush Italy, which was funny since Italy won the World Cup 2 years ago. And Analise is Italian and probably the only supporter of Italy in that place. There were some awesome dutch fans, all decked out in orange with funny hats. We decided (and by we I mean Analise because she was embarrassed to be supporting Italy) to try and find a different bar. Nice did not produce. We only found more restaurants. When we finally found a bar, the game was in the last few minutes, drinks were expensive, and we were exhausted from spending so much time in the sun. So we went home and passed out since we were supposed to catch the 9:45 train to Paris.
We got up extra early, packed, and took a cab (for 15 euros...thieves) to the train station. We got in line for tickets and realized that there is currently a train strike going on in France. When we finally got to the ticket desk, the man said that we wouldn't be able to get out of Nice until 5:30 that evening. I mean, at least we could get out the same day, but still. And we had already checked out of our hotel and had all our luggage with us. Awesome. So we paid 8.50 euro (around $13 american) to store it in a locker until we were to get on the train. Only the big pieces fit though, so I was stuck with my backpack and for some reason wore a long sleeve shirt. I boiled all day long. We walked around, shopped some, at cheap pizza, nothing too exciting. While we were eating, however, we were approached by gypsies for the first time. There were beggars in Barcelona, but nothing like this. These parents wanted us to give our pizza to their son. We said no at first, because it was going to be our only meal of the day. We did have a lot so Holly and Analise gave what they had leftover to the child. I didn't have any leftovers so I did not (judge me all you want). Then, the mother and father got in a fight in Italian and he stormed off. And the mother ate our pizza. And then she asked us for something to drink for the boy. What? I think no. Then, the father came back with sacks filled with groceries, which the child ate. Feeling like we'd been tricked, we left to look around Nice some more.
After an epic walk around Nice (okay, Nice is not epic, not even a little bit), we went back to the train station because I was boiling and we were out of things to do. And we sat. In the train station. For 3 hours on the floor. At least the floor was cold, I would not, however, make the mistake of calling it clean. We finally got on our train at 5:30 and were scheduled to be in Paris at 11:15 which for some reason I thought was only 4 hours in transit until we were on the train for 4 hours and realized that math should not be my major. On the train, we sat next to some really cool Australian guys who were traveling for a month...or maybe 2 weeks. I think a month. We had a good time drinking wine that we brought and Zoco (licorice flavored liquor...not bad with apple juice and water) that they brought and sharing stories about traveling in unknown places.
We finally got to Paris and got a cab to our hotel. It is especially bad that we don't speak French because I think we might have jipped some man out of like 2 euros since his job is to call cabs or something. I'm not really sure what happened because he was yelling at us in French. I told him we don't speak French and he just threw up his hands and huffed off. The cab driver was somewhat of an asshole. When he dropped us off at our hotel he was like 'You are staying here??'. Yes, we are, so what. The place is 25 euros a night per person, we can't afford much more. Since it was almost midnight, it was pretty dark and quiet out, making our hotel look extra sketch. The guy at the front desk didn't help all that much either, since I'm pretty sure he was high as a kite. We were situated on the 5th floor, which is actually the 6th floor since the ground floor doesn't count. Fortunately (I think) we met some guy who has been traveling alone who arrogantly whipped out his map to show us everywhere to go. He also helped me get my stuff up the stairs. Which is the only reason I shamelessly flirted with him. After we thought we got rid of him, we checked out our room which looked like a mental hospital with a bathroom lock on the door. I did not care. I was so tired and boiling again from dragging my stuff up the 6 flights on stairs that I stripped of my clothes and got into bed. The place was clean and we had our own bathroom, but modernity clearly happened in the 18th century.
While Holly and Analise were getting ready for bed, we heard a knock on the door. When we asked who it was, a voice said 'Uhhh, the guy from the stairs'. Of course I was pretty much naked in bed and I informed Holly and Analise that I would not be putting clothes on so hopefully he wouldn't be coming in. He asked us if we had a shower because he was supposed to and after several awkward pauses, was on his way. We passed out and woke up early since we were going to try and see as much of Paris in a day.
We woke up early the next morning to get a head start on conquering Paris. After a breakfast of croissant, baguette, and cafe au lait (pretty much just straight carbs and dairy), we went to the train station to get our reservations for the next leg of our trip, having learned from trying to get out of Nice. Thankfully, we made reservations with much trouble and took the metro to the center of the city. Somehow, on the metro, we were like 20,000 leagues underground because we had to climb lots of stairs for fresh air.
Once we found our way outside, we pretty much just started walking, trying to find the Louvre. After turning around a few times, we found it and it was amazing. It covers like several city blocks and at one time was a palace, which is incredible considering how big it is. It looks so French, too, with all the stone architecture and ornate decor on the outside. Then we walked through the garden in the middle, with the giant glass triangles that serve as the entrance and the amazing fountains. Had the fountains been in Barcelona, there would be no water in them due to the drought that is still a problem there. However, in Paris, water is abundant and the fountains are full and gorgeous.
We just walked around, drinking the Louvre in for awhile, and walked on to the Arc de Triomphe which rounds it out. We kept on walking towards the second Arc de Triomphe, which is at the end of the Champs Elysees. Between the Arc and the second Arc, we ran into the giant phallic symbol that France stole from Egypt. That's how the guy from the stairs described it, and I really don't know the actual name, but it was cool to see. It was huge and covered in hieroglyphics. The Champs Elysees is a really famous street in Paris that has a lot of designer stores, restaurants, etc. It was nice to walk on and see but we didn't really go in anywhere except the Quick Hamburger for lunch. The Quick Hamburger is like a nicer French Burger King. We were trying to eat cheaply, so it worked for that. And the fries were really good. But not really noteworthy and definitely not distinctly French.
After eating, we kept walking around the Champs Elysees, stopping to look at the second Arc de Triomphe and making our way down the other side of the Champ Elysees. We decided to try and find Notre Dame, since you have to see that if you go to Paris. However, Holly (who has been to Paris) saw some spires and so we headed that way. We got to the origin of the spires and started wondering where the tourists were, thinking we were at Notre Dame. Guess what, it was not Notre Dame. Cool architecture, but still not Notre Dame. So we decided to just follow the river until we found it. We got to walk through some cool neighborhoods, look into shops, and passed a bar that advertised specials during the soccer game that was happening later.
It wasn't too much further to Notre Dame and we made it in time to watch part of mass. I'm not religious but how many people can say they've been to mass at Notre Dame Cathedral? I can! There was a huge number of tourists, gypsies, and a couple nuns; all of which I ignored. We didn't stay too long, mostly because it was in French and after walking all day we all needed a drink. So we walked back to the pub we had seen the specials for to watch the Eurocup game and have cheap drinks.
The pub was a small dive bar, but I have a cheap mojito and beer was on special so we sat there and watched the game. Its really awesome to be in Europe while the Eurocup is going on because people here are crazy about soccer. Like nuts. The game with Portugal against Czech Republic. Portugal pounded Czech Republic. After the game we decided to find some dinner. We had seen a bunch of Moroccan restaurants and Analise wanted to try it so we found one that was close by and had a pretty cheap menu du jour, which is the same as the menu of the day that I enjoyed in Barcelona.
Moroccan food was amazing. I had a salad with goat cheese on crostini and walnuts and lamb skewers served with vegetables. Holly and Analise had tagine which is like stew with chicken and potato and lemon, also delicious. For dessert I had creme brulee, which was homemade and wonderful. I guess that's the only French thing I ate while in France. After we stuffed ourselves silly, we headed to the metro stop and the Eiffel Tower. By now, the sun had gone down so it was dark outside.
We got to the Eiffel Tower and walked towards the glowing building, since it was all light up it was really easy to spot. I took about 2 million pictures, most of them look the same, and we sat down on a footpath and waited for it to light up. From far away, we could see the top when we were walking around earlier in the day and I wasn't that impressed. But close up, I was blown away. It is bigger than I imagined, and with the night lights and people milling around speaking French, it was such an experience. I could stare it at for hours. Okay, I don't really have that kind of attention span, but I did give it a solid 30 minutes which is pretty good for a stationary object.
Eventually, 10:50 rolled around and it light up all crazy. Unfortunately, while we were sitting there we kept getting approached by street vendors wanting us to buy wine or souvenirs. I informed them that they were ruining my Eiffel Tower experience and to go away. Who knows when the next time I'll be in Paris looking at the Eiffel Tower at night, so I decided being blunt would be more worthwhile. While we were sitting there, this rat came out of nowhere and ran between Holly and Analise, causing mild hysterics for a couple minutes. Everyone survived and I am pleased to report that no diseases were caused by the invasion. After the Eiffel Tower, we finally headed to our hotel and bed after a long day of trekking Paris.
In the morning, we were supposed to get up relatively early to trek some more, but we all over slept and didn't make it out until around 11. We also all needed to shower (second time since being in France) and managed to clog up the shower drain. Awesome. We decided to try a museum but missed breakfast so we got some crepes (with ham and cheese...amazing) from a street vendor and headed to the Pompidou which holds one of the largest modern art museums in the world (this could be completely false but the building is huge so it make sense). We got poured on and went the wrong direction so it took us awhile to get there, but we made it and it was amazing.
There are all kinds of famous, modern artists like Jackson Pollack (although the few pieces they have of him do not seem very Pollack-y), Picasso, Dali, and a whole bunch more that are super famous that I had never heard of. I feel more cultured for having seen so much art, though. Some of it was a little strange and included noises, but overall it was awesome. After the museum we did a little shopping. Analise finally bought some Euro pants from a store that burns incense (she drags us into these places all the time and almost never buys anything). We ate some cheap Lebanese street food (falafel) and walked some more then headed back to our hotel to collect our things and go our separate ways, me to Madrid to meet up with Isabelle and them on the rest of their Euro journey.
I liked Paris a lot, but my heart is still in Barcelona. It is a totally different experience when you know the language and feel comfortable. Granted, we were only in Paris for 2 days, and I fell absolutely in love with it, but I like not feeling like a tourist and knowing stuff about the city, like how to get around. And I don't speak French.
I took a cab across town (for almost 16 euros...grrr) and waited in the train station for an hour before boarding my sleeper car to Madrid. I figured I would probably only be willing to take an overnight train once in my life, right? It was pretty awesome. There are rules about men and women sleeping together, so all the men go in one cabin and all the women go in a different one. Not all together, like 4 per cabin. The grandma in my cabin was traveling with her (hot) grandson who I spoke to, in my broken Spanish, for awhile. He was nice and helped me with my luggage at the insistence of his abuela. Eventually, they came around and let the beds down and I knocked out. I slept, the train moved. By the time I woke up again, we were in Madrid. Awesome.
I found Isabelle and her abuela and her tio and we had some coffee in the station and then boarded several trains and one bus to get back to Las Rozas, where her aunt lives. It is actually a suburb of Madrid, but it really isn't that far. Well, we haven't ventured into Madrid yet so I could be totally wrong about that. I do know that the train station is on the opposite side of the city, so downtown is somewhere in the middle. After getting to her aunts house, we dragged my stuff up the stairs, hung out in our room and chatted, ate lunch, took a 3 hour nap (she's still super jet lagged and I am happy to nap anytime). After our nap we made some plans for tomorrow, which aren't really plans but more intentions, and now we're on our computers since it is afternoon in the States and we can reach our American friends. I'm about to try and call my momma, since I haven't talked to her in like 10 days, hopefully she answers! For the next 2 weeks I'll be here, and then back to the States! I haven't been home since March, so the anticipation is killing me, I miss my sweet sweet Bartimus. But I can't wait to see Madrid and improve my Spanish some more. Isabelle's grandma doesn't speak English, except for 'Oh My God' and a couple holiday greetings (none of which are useful right now) and her uncle understands English but doesn't speak fluently. And her aunt wants me to learn more Spanish. So I should be great by the time I leave in two weeks, hopefully. It is almost midnight here and I understand there will be some sort of breakfast around 9 (juevos con jamon?), so I should go to sleep and call my momma.
¡Felíz viernes trece!
Sunday night we did not go out. We crumbed up the bed with baguette, did not bathe, and talked to some people in the lobby. And drank a lot of free juice that they had in the lobby of the hotel. Since we were still recovering from Barcelona, we went to bed early, and slept a night terror free night.
We woke up in the morning we woke up late and headed straight for the beach. On our way down the stairs we met a group of guys from Houston (Rice Village area) which was cool. We never spoke to them again, though. Upon arrival, we noticed a homeless man on the beach who had the worst skid marks on his whitie tighties (which served as his swimming trunks because he was washing and drying the rest of his clothes in the shower heads provided. Naturally, I captured him on camera and he has been dubbed 'Streaks'. We saw him later when we were out, once again passed out.
We laid on the beach for about 6 hours, getting surprisingly not burnt; rather brown like a pack of Mexicans. We finally showered (we hadn't done so since crossing the border, and maybe a couple days before that) and decided to head to old Nice to find dinner and something to do. First of all, Nice is purely tourist. And by tourists I mean old, rich, gay men. Its nice for a couple relaxing days at the beach, and the views are stunning. However, it is not in fact known for its nightlife. As we discovered. We went to a bar that we had gotten a flier for (amazing how publicity works) that advertised happy hour. Happy hour doesn't really exist in Europe to our knowledge, so we ran to Ma Nolans as fast as we could. They had some sort of beer on special and cocktails. I had a gin and tonic and a cosmopolitan. But it was not the cosmo I'm used to. It was more like a fruity, delicious girl drink. I loved it. While we waited for a table outside, we got to watch the France-Romania game in a French bar. Pretty awesome. European soccer fans put American football fans to shame. Then we got a table and had good, old-fashioned (although somewhat flame kissed) burgers and fries. After eating bread and cheese for pretty much 2 days, they were delish.
Afterwards, we went in and watched the Netherlands crush Italy, which was funny since Italy won the World Cup 2 years ago. And Analise is Italian and probably the only supporter of Italy in that place. There were some awesome dutch fans, all decked out in orange with funny hats. We decided (and by we I mean Analise because she was embarrassed to be supporting Italy) to try and find a different bar. Nice did not produce. We only found more restaurants. When we finally found a bar, the game was in the last few minutes, drinks were expensive, and we were exhausted from spending so much time in the sun. So we went home and passed out since we were supposed to catch the 9:45 train to Paris.
We got up extra early, packed, and took a cab (for 15 euros...thieves) to the train station. We got in line for tickets and realized that there is currently a train strike going on in France. When we finally got to the ticket desk, the man said that we wouldn't be able to get out of Nice until 5:30 that evening. I mean, at least we could get out the same day, but still. And we had already checked out of our hotel and had all our luggage with us. Awesome. So we paid 8.50 euro (around $13 american) to store it in a locker until we were to get on the train. Only the big pieces fit though, so I was stuck with my backpack and for some reason wore a long sleeve shirt. I boiled all day long. We walked around, shopped some, at cheap pizza, nothing too exciting. While we were eating, however, we were approached by gypsies for the first time. There were beggars in Barcelona, but nothing like this. These parents wanted us to give our pizza to their son. We said no at first, because it was going to be our only meal of the day. We did have a lot so Holly and Analise gave what they had leftover to the child. I didn't have any leftovers so I did not (judge me all you want). Then, the mother and father got in a fight in Italian and he stormed off. And the mother ate our pizza. And then she asked us for something to drink for the boy. What? I think no. Then, the father came back with sacks filled with groceries, which the child ate. Feeling like we'd been tricked, we left to look around Nice some more.
After an epic walk around Nice (okay, Nice is not epic, not even a little bit), we went back to the train station because I was boiling and we were out of things to do. And we sat. In the train station. For 3 hours on the floor. At least the floor was cold, I would not, however, make the mistake of calling it clean. We finally got on our train at 5:30 and were scheduled to be in Paris at 11:15 which for some reason I thought was only 4 hours in transit until we were on the train for 4 hours and realized that math should not be my major. On the train, we sat next to some really cool Australian guys who were traveling for a month...or maybe 2 weeks. I think a month. We had a good time drinking wine that we brought and Zoco (licorice flavored liquor...not bad with apple juice and water) that they brought and sharing stories about traveling in unknown places.
We finally got to Paris and got a cab to our hotel. It is especially bad that we don't speak French because I think we might have jipped some man out of like 2 euros since his job is to call cabs or something. I'm not really sure what happened because he was yelling at us in French. I told him we don't speak French and he just threw up his hands and huffed off. The cab driver was somewhat of an asshole. When he dropped us off at our hotel he was like 'You are staying here??'. Yes, we are, so what. The place is 25 euros a night per person, we can't afford much more. Since it was almost midnight, it was pretty dark and quiet out, making our hotel look extra sketch. The guy at the front desk didn't help all that much either, since I'm pretty sure he was high as a kite. We were situated on the 5th floor, which is actually the 6th floor since the ground floor doesn't count. Fortunately (I think) we met some guy who has been traveling alone who arrogantly whipped out his map to show us everywhere to go. He also helped me get my stuff up the stairs. Which is the only reason I shamelessly flirted with him. After we thought we got rid of him, we checked out our room which looked like a mental hospital with a bathroom lock on the door. I did not care. I was so tired and boiling again from dragging my stuff up the 6 flights on stairs that I stripped of my clothes and got into bed. The place was clean and we had our own bathroom, but modernity clearly happened in the 18th century.
While Holly and Analise were getting ready for bed, we heard a knock on the door. When we asked who it was, a voice said 'Uhhh, the guy from the stairs'. Of course I was pretty much naked in bed and I informed Holly and Analise that I would not be putting clothes on so hopefully he wouldn't be coming in. He asked us if we had a shower because he was supposed to and after several awkward pauses, was on his way. We passed out and woke up early since we were going to try and see as much of Paris in a day.
We woke up early the next morning to get a head start on conquering Paris. After a breakfast of croissant, baguette, and cafe au lait (pretty much just straight carbs and dairy), we went to the train station to get our reservations for the next leg of our trip, having learned from trying to get out of Nice. Thankfully, we made reservations with much trouble and took the metro to the center of the city. Somehow, on the metro, we were like 20,000 leagues underground because we had to climb lots of stairs for fresh air.
Once we found our way outside, we pretty much just started walking, trying to find the Louvre. After turning around a few times, we found it and it was amazing. It covers like several city blocks and at one time was a palace, which is incredible considering how big it is. It looks so French, too, with all the stone architecture and ornate decor on the outside. Then we walked through the garden in the middle, with the giant glass triangles that serve as the entrance and the amazing fountains. Had the fountains been in Barcelona, there would be no water in them due to the drought that is still a problem there. However, in Paris, water is abundant and the fountains are full and gorgeous.
We just walked around, drinking the Louvre in for awhile, and walked on to the Arc de Triomphe which rounds it out. We kept on walking towards the second Arc de Triomphe, which is at the end of the Champs Elysees. Between the Arc and the second Arc, we ran into the giant phallic symbol that France stole from Egypt. That's how the guy from the stairs described it, and I really don't know the actual name, but it was cool to see. It was huge and covered in hieroglyphics. The Champs Elysees is a really famous street in Paris that has a lot of designer stores, restaurants, etc. It was nice to walk on and see but we didn't really go in anywhere except the Quick Hamburger for lunch. The Quick Hamburger is like a nicer French Burger King. We were trying to eat cheaply, so it worked for that. And the fries were really good. But not really noteworthy and definitely not distinctly French.
After eating, we kept walking around the Champs Elysees, stopping to look at the second Arc de Triomphe and making our way down the other side of the Champ Elysees. We decided to try and find Notre Dame, since you have to see that if you go to Paris. However, Holly (who has been to Paris) saw some spires and so we headed that way. We got to the origin of the spires and started wondering where the tourists were, thinking we were at Notre Dame. Guess what, it was not Notre Dame. Cool architecture, but still not Notre Dame. So we decided to just follow the river until we found it. We got to walk through some cool neighborhoods, look into shops, and passed a bar that advertised specials during the soccer game that was happening later.
It wasn't too much further to Notre Dame and we made it in time to watch part of mass. I'm not religious but how many people can say they've been to mass at Notre Dame Cathedral? I can! There was a huge number of tourists, gypsies, and a couple nuns; all of which I ignored. We didn't stay too long, mostly because it was in French and after walking all day we all needed a drink. So we walked back to the pub we had seen the specials for to watch the Eurocup game and have cheap drinks.
The pub was a small dive bar, but I have a cheap mojito and beer was on special so we sat there and watched the game. Its really awesome to be in Europe while the Eurocup is going on because people here are crazy about soccer. Like nuts. The game with Portugal against Czech Republic. Portugal pounded Czech Republic. After the game we decided to find some dinner. We had seen a bunch of Moroccan restaurants and Analise wanted to try it so we found one that was close by and had a pretty cheap menu du jour, which is the same as the menu of the day that I enjoyed in Barcelona.
Moroccan food was amazing. I had a salad with goat cheese on crostini and walnuts and lamb skewers served with vegetables. Holly and Analise had tagine which is like stew with chicken and potato and lemon, also delicious. For dessert I had creme brulee, which was homemade and wonderful. I guess that's the only French thing I ate while in France. After we stuffed ourselves silly, we headed to the metro stop and the Eiffel Tower. By now, the sun had gone down so it was dark outside.
We got to the Eiffel Tower and walked towards the glowing building, since it was all light up it was really easy to spot. I took about 2 million pictures, most of them look the same, and we sat down on a footpath and waited for it to light up. From far away, we could see the top when we were walking around earlier in the day and I wasn't that impressed. But close up, I was blown away. It is bigger than I imagined, and with the night lights and people milling around speaking French, it was such an experience. I could stare it at for hours. Okay, I don't really have that kind of attention span, but I did give it a solid 30 minutes which is pretty good for a stationary object.
Eventually, 10:50 rolled around and it light up all crazy. Unfortunately, while we were sitting there we kept getting approached by street vendors wanting us to buy wine or souvenirs. I informed them that they were ruining my Eiffel Tower experience and to go away. Who knows when the next time I'll be in Paris looking at the Eiffel Tower at night, so I decided being blunt would be more worthwhile. While we were sitting there, this rat came out of nowhere and ran between Holly and Analise, causing mild hysterics for a couple minutes. Everyone survived and I am pleased to report that no diseases were caused by the invasion. After the Eiffel Tower, we finally headed to our hotel and bed after a long day of trekking Paris.
In the morning, we were supposed to get up relatively early to trek some more, but we all over slept and didn't make it out until around 11. We also all needed to shower (second time since being in France) and managed to clog up the shower drain. Awesome. We decided to try a museum but missed breakfast so we got some crepes (with ham and cheese...amazing) from a street vendor and headed to the Pompidou which holds one of the largest modern art museums in the world (this could be completely false but the building is huge so it make sense). We got poured on and went the wrong direction so it took us awhile to get there, but we made it and it was amazing.
There are all kinds of famous, modern artists like Jackson Pollack (although the few pieces they have of him do not seem very Pollack-y), Picasso, Dali, and a whole bunch more that are super famous that I had never heard of. I feel more cultured for having seen so much art, though. Some of it was a little strange and included noises, but overall it was awesome. After the museum we did a little shopping. Analise finally bought some Euro pants from a store that burns incense (she drags us into these places all the time and almost never buys anything). We ate some cheap Lebanese street food (falafel) and walked some more then headed back to our hotel to collect our things and go our separate ways, me to Madrid to meet up with Isabelle and them on the rest of their Euro journey.
I liked Paris a lot, but my heart is still in Barcelona. It is a totally different experience when you know the language and feel comfortable. Granted, we were only in Paris for 2 days, and I fell absolutely in love with it, but I like not feeling like a tourist and knowing stuff about the city, like how to get around. And I don't speak French.
I took a cab across town (for almost 16 euros...grrr) and waited in the train station for an hour before boarding my sleeper car to Madrid. I figured I would probably only be willing to take an overnight train once in my life, right? It was pretty awesome. There are rules about men and women sleeping together, so all the men go in one cabin and all the women go in a different one. Not all together, like 4 per cabin. The grandma in my cabin was traveling with her (hot) grandson who I spoke to, in my broken Spanish, for awhile. He was nice and helped me with my luggage at the insistence of his abuela. Eventually, they came around and let the beds down and I knocked out. I slept, the train moved. By the time I woke up again, we were in Madrid. Awesome.
I found Isabelle and her abuela and her tio and we had some coffee in the station and then boarded several trains and one bus to get back to Las Rozas, where her aunt lives. It is actually a suburb of Madrid, but it really isn't that far. Well, we haven't ventured into Madrid yet so I could be totally wrong about that. I do know that the train station is on the opposite side of the city, so downtown is somewhere in the middle. After getting to her aunts house, we dragged my stuff up the stairs, hung out in our room and chatted, ate lunch, took a 3 hour nap (she's still super jet lagged and I am happy to nap anytime). After our nap we made some plans for tomorrow, which aren't really plans but more intentions, and now we're on our computers since it is afternoon in the States and we can reach our American friends. I'm about to try and call my momma, since I haven't talked to her in like 10 days, hopefully she answers! For the next 2 weeks I'll be here, and then back to the States! I haven't been home since March, so the anticipation is killing me, I miss my sweet sweet Bartimus. But I can't wait to see Madrid and improve my Spanish some more. Isabelle's grandma doesn't speak English, except for 'Oh My God' and a couple holiday greetings (none of which are useful right now) and her uncle understands English but doesn't speak fluently. And her aunt wants me to learn more Spanish. So I should be great by the time I leave in two weeks, hopefully. It is almost midnight here and I understand there will be some sort of breakfast around 9 (juevos con jamon?), so I should go to sleep and call my momma.
¡Felíz viernes trece!
6.08.2008
Bonjour!
So I'm in France now. Which is quite different from Spain, but amazing still. It has been a transition to go from a country where I speak and understand the language (for the most part) to a country where I do not speak the language. But I love Nice.
Last time I left off I was headed off to our farewell dinner, which was of course amazing. Its nice to go to a restaurant and not have to pay. While this limits our choices, not paying is wonderful. The first course was a collection of tapas: some sort of eggplant and roasted red pepper conglomeration, raw salmon with olive oil, cheese pizza (this was especially good after eating Spanish food for so long), pan con tomate, croquettes, and tortilla espanola. All of these were excellent and we got pretty full eating them, but we still had an entree and dessert. For our second course, they had said we would be getting filet mignon, which turned out to be pork tenderloin (I don't know what we were thinking, we were in Spain expecting beef...ridiculous) wrapped in bacon with a mustard sauce and white rice. Some people complained because they thought they were getting beef and didn't; but I have the eat everything they put in front of me policy and I found it delicious. Craig had fish and it was really good, but somewhat bony. For dessert we had a choice between crema catalunya (creme brulee) or tiramisu. I had tiramisu and it was the best I've ever had. Craig has crema catalunya and it was pretty amazing also.
After dinner and one billion pictures, a handful of us, including John C. Wilcox, Marianna, Jordi, and Silvia headed to a bar that Jordi and Silvia recommended, La Fira. It was early so it wasn't super busy when we first got there, but it was really awesome. The owner had bought all of the decor from a theme park at the top of the mountain when it closed and made a bar out of it. So there's all this circus, theme park stuff everywhere. Pretty sweet. And, I drank Johnnie Walker Red with John C. Wilcox. I wanted to pay for it for the sake of saying I bought JCW a scotch, but he wouldn't let me. Definitely highlight of the trip. It was mostly a hang out bar, and we stayed awhile but left relatively early to prepare for traveling the next day. Craig and Sylvia were going back to the states and had early flights out and Analise, Holly and I had train reservations at 8:45 in the morning. And I still hadn't packed.
Once I got home, I didn't want to pack even more, especially since I was sporting a minor scotch buzz. So I passed out instead, silly me. However, I managed to set my alarm for 6A and frantically pack to leave senora's apartment at the time I was supposed to. I took a taxi to the station, since I have infinity luggage, and thought I made it in time to take my train from Estacion de Sants to Estacion de Francia, on the other side of the city. I made it downstairs to the platform and there was a train sitting there that said aeropuerto (airport) and I was too busy not understanding Spanish to know that this was the train I was supposed to get on and it left without me. So I hauled my luggage back upstairs to find another taxi. This time, I went out the wrong door where taxis are not allowed to pick people up and had to go to the other side of the station. I had only slept like 3 hours and was not impressed with myself or the situation. I found a cab, and the driver was really nice, and I made it with time to spare before our train for France left. But it was a little stressful there for like an hour.
The train left and we were chatting and realized the 3 people next to us spoke English, which seemed rare so we started talking to them. Two were a lesbian couple from Florida who were backpacking through Europe and on their way to Nice as well. They are 25, recently graduated, and overall awesome girls. The other was a women with a 6 month old baby (precious) who has lived all over the world working for Unicef and the UN. Awesome. It was really cool to meet people on the train and have intelligent conversations, and tell them our hilarious stories. They especially liked the one about the time the dog rubbed her popa (poop) all over my bed. This made the first leg of our trip go by really quickly, even though we spent 4 hours on the train.
We had to get other reservations and change over in Montpelier but the train straight to Nice was full so we had to make an extra change in Marseilles. Whatever. We hung out at the train station with the cool lesbians. I had to pee so badly so I went down to the bathroom. I went to go in and the woman said something in French that I didn't understand except for the .50 euro part. So I paid to pee, for the first time since I've been in Europe. I flushed twice to get my money's worth. To the restroom's credit, it was super nice, but I'm not sure I enjoyed paying to relieve myself. After paying to pee, I went and hung out with the cool lesbians some more, they are fascinating. I inhaled a sandwich that I somehow procured through a French-English language barrier and a delicious brownie. However, I was exhausted and passed out on the cold, marble floor of the train station, apparently with my eyes open, they woke me up laughing about it. Eventually, they got on their train to Nice and we got on ours to Marseilles. The trains are nice. The seats recline and are spacious, nothing like an airplane. And nothing like the Amtrak. Much much nicer and frequented by much more normal people. No one asked me where the snack car is.
The view from the train, since it ran along the coast, was breathtaking. The French Riviera is absolutely incredible. Totally worth the time you spend to take the train instead of flying. We got to Marseilles after another 2 hours and transferred to our final train to Nice. We all passed out on the train, periodically waking up to check out the Riviera some more. Its seriously like straight out of a guide book. We finally got to Nice and were all tired, hungry, and ready to be done traveling with the luggage I had. Since I haven't been home yet, I had 2 heavy suitcases and a backpack. I was constantly needing help hauling it up and down the train stairs, into the luggage compartment. I'm surprise Analise and Holly didn't ditch me. I guess I'll keep them around.
Once we got to Nice we had no idea where to go to get to our Hostel. So we kind of started walking in the general direction of who knows where. As we were crossing the tram tracks where there were about 4,000 serious, French people waiting for the tram, I went to go drag my luggage up the surprisingly high curb and just completely ate it. Like face to the ground, driving my knee into the concrete, all the French people staring at me fall. And, on top of the fact that I screamed as I did it, I landed on the sidewalk but left my luggage in the pathway of the tram as it was coming, and I was still laying on the ground recovering. Luckily, Holly and Analise pulled my luggage out of the way of the tram and I lived. Barely.
We decided hailing a taxi would be a better decision, even though it cost money. We finally found a cab, which was a Mercedes, and got to our Hostel: Hotel Meyerbeer. Holly had read some sketch reviews but that was after it had been booked so we went anyways. It is so adorable! While there are 3 of us sharing one double bed and about 6 square feet of floor, its really nice and clean for the price. And we have our own bathroom. AND they come and clean and make the bed and change out the towels everyday. AND its only 146 euros for all 3 nights, for all 3 of us. AND BEST OF ALL we have the internet. No breakfast, but whatever.
After we arranged our stuff, we headed out to the kebab place that the desk worker recommended to us. It was a giant tortilla filled with a ton of chicken, lettuce, tomato, onions, and a yogurt sauce. It was perfect after a long day of traveling. We also got fries and a soda for 6.50 euros. Not bad. We took it to the beach and sat and ate. It was incredible, the Mediterranean Sea is so peaceful and amazing. We were sitting there, in Nice, eating amazing, cheap food, watching the jellyfish swim around the ocean. After eating and sitting there taking it in for about an hour and a half, we walked back to our room and passed out, with me sleeping on the floor and Analise and Holly in the bed.
At some point in the middle of the night, I had some sort of dream (some might call it a night terror), that there were people in robes like monks in our room going to kills us or take our stuff or something. So I started screaming in my sleep. I was saying things like "Guys there is someone in here" and, to the imaginary intruders, "Can I help you?" over and over, loudly. They turned on the lights and I realized there was no one in there and passed back out. They woke up when I was doing it, but didn't really say anything until we woke up this morning. As I write this, they are rolling around laughing about it. I forgot to warn them I have this problem. It might happen again, who knows.
After we woke up and got ready, we headed to the supermarket to get our provisions for our trip. We bought peaches, tomatoes, bananas (ick), lots of cheese, baguette, cookies, chocolate, chips, water, juice, croissants with chocolate in the middle, and ham for less than 40 euros. And, except for the fact that we've eaten 2 giant baguettes, it should last us while we're here in Nice and some left for the train. After we came back, the maids were in our room so we tried to plan some more of our trip, and put the groceries in our mini fridge. I made sandwiches and we headed out to the beach. We laid on the beach, alternating between being in the water and tanning. And, since we were in Nice, I may have spent a portion of my time there topless. When in Rome, right? We got super dark sitting out there for 5.5 hours. We came back and have just been munching on cheese and bread and drinking cava and watching French TV. Tonight we're planning on going out, but we haven't made any motion towards showering or anything. But I'm going to shower because I smell super Euro especially since I haven't bathed since crossing borders. Tuesday we're going to Paris, so I might not be able to write again until Thursday, but I'll have lots to write about when I do!
Last time I left off I was headed off to our farewell dinner, which was of course amazing. Its nice to go to a restaurant and not have to pay. While this limits our choices, not paying is wonderful. The first course was a collection of tapas: some sort of eggplant and roasted red pepper conglomeration, raw salmon with olive oil, cheese pizza (this was especially good after eating Spanish food for so long), pan con tomate, croquettes, and tortilla espanola. All of these were excellent and we got pretty full eating them, but we still had an entree and dessert. For our second course, they had said we would be getting filet mignon, which turned out to be pork tenderloin (I don't know what we were thinking, we were in Spain expecting beef...ridiculous) wrapped in bacon with a mustard sauce and white rice. Some people complained because they thought they were getting beef and didn't; but I have the eat everything they put in front of me policy and I found it delicious. Craig had fish and it was really good, but somewhat bony. For dessert we had a choice between crema catalunya (creme brulee) or tiramisu. I had tiramisu and it was the best I've ever had. Craig has crema catalunya and it was pretty amazing also.
After dinner and one billion pictures, a handful of us, including John C. Wilcox, Marianna, Jordi, and Silvia headed to a bar that Jordi and Silvia recommended, La Fira. It was early so it wasn't super busy when we first got there, but it was really awesome. The owner had bought all of the decor from a theme park at the top of the mountain when it closed and made a bar out of it. So there's all this circus, theme park stuff everywhere. Pretty sweet. And, I drank Johnnie Walker Red with John C. Wilcox. I wanted to pay for it for the sake of saying I bought JCW a scotch, but he wouldn't let me. Definitely highlight of the trip. It was mostly a hang out bar, and we stayed awhile but left relatively early to prepare for traveling the next day. Craig and Sylvia were going back to the states and had early flights out and Analise, Holly and I had train reservations at 8:45 in the morning. And I still hadn't packed.
Once I got home, I didn't want to pack even more, especially since I was sporting a minor scotch buzz. So I passed out instead, silly me. However, I managed to set my alarm for 6A and frantically pack to leave senora's apartment at the time I was supposed to. I took a taxi to the station, since I have infinity luggage, and thought I made it in time to take my train from Estacion de Sants to Estacion de Francia, on the other side of the city. I made it downstairs to the platform and there was a train sitting there that said aeropuerto (airport) and I was too busy not understanding Spanish to know that this was the train I was supposed to get on and it left without me. So I hauled my luggage back upstairs to find another taxi. This time, I went out the wrong door where taxis are not allowed to pick people up and had to go to the other side of the station. I had only slept like 3 hours and was not impressed with myself or the situation. I found a cab, and the driver was really nice, and I made it with time to spare before our train for France left. But it was a little stressful there for like an hour.
The train left and we were chatting and realized the 3 people next to us spoke English, which seemed rare so we started talking to them. Two were a lesbian couple from Florida who were backpacking through Europe and on their way to Nice as well. They are 25, recently graduated, and overall awesome girls. The other was a women with a 6 month old baby (precious) who has lived all over the world working for Unicef and the UN. Awesome. It was really cool to meet people on the train and have intelligent conversations, and tell them our hilarious stories. They especially liked the one about the time the dog rubbed her popa (poop) all over my bed. This made the first leg of our trip go by really quickly, even though we spent 4 hours on the train.
We had to get other reservations and change over in Montpelier but the train straight to Nice was full so we had to make an extra change in Marseilles. Whatever. We hung out at the train station with the cool lesbians. I had to pee so badly so I went down to the bathroom. I went to go in and the woman said something in French that I didn't understand except for the .50 euro part. So I paid to pee, for the first time since I've been in Europe. I flushed twice to get my money's worth. To the restroom's credit, it was super nice, but I'm not sure I enjoyed paying to relieve myself. After paying to pee, I went and hung out with the cool lesbians some more, they are fascinating. I inhaled a sandwich that I somehow procured through a French-English language barrier and a delicious brownie. However, I was exhausted and passed out on the cold, marble floor of the train station, apparently with my eyes open, they woke me up laughing about it. Eventually, they got on their train to Nice and we got on ours to Marseilles. The trains are nice. The seats recline and are spacious, nothing like an airplane. And nothing like the Amtrak. Much much nicer and frequented by much more normal people. No one asked me where the snack car is.
The view from the train, since it ran along the coast, was breathtaking. The French Riviera is absolutely incredible. Totally worth the time you spend to take the train instead of flying. We got to Marseilles after another 2 hours and transferred to our final train to Nice. We all passed out on the train, periodically waking up to check out the Riviera some more. Its seriously like straight out of a guide book. We finally got to Nice and were all tired, hungry, and ready to be done traveling with the luggage I had. Since I haven't been home yet, I had 2 heavy suitcases and a backpack. I was constantly needing help hauling it up and down the train stairs, into the luggage compartment. I'm surprise Analise and Holly didn't ditch me. I guess I'll keep them around.
Once we got to Nice we had no idea where to go to get to our Hostel. So we kind of started walking in the general direction of who knows where. As we were crossing the tram tracks where there were about 4,000 serious, French people waiting for the tram, I went to go drag my luggage up the surprisingly high curb and just completely ate it. Like face to the ground, driving my knee into the concrete, all the French people staring at me fall. And, on top of the fact that I screamed as I did it, I landed on the sidewalk but left my luggage in the pathway of the tram as it was coming, and I was still laying on the ground recovering. Luckily, Holly and Analise pulled my luggage out of the way of the tram and I lived. Barely.
We decided hailing a taxi would be a better decision, even though it cost money. We finally found a cab, which was a Mercedes, and got to our Hostel: Hotel Meyerbeer. Holly had read some sketch reviews but that was after it had been booked so we went anyways. It is so adorable! While there are 3 of us sharing one double bed and about 6 square feet of floor, its really nice and clean for the price. And we have our own bathroom. AND they come and clean and make the bed and change out the towels everyday. AND its only 146 euros for all 3 nights, for all 3 of us. AND BEST OF ALL we have the internet. No breakfast, but whatever.
After we arranged our stuff, we headed out to the kebab place that the desk worker recommended to us. It was a giant tortilla filled with a ton of chicken, lettuce, tomato, onions, and a yogurt sauce. It was perfect after a long day of traveling. We also got fries and a soda for 6.50 euros. Not bad. We took it to the beach and sat and ate. It was incredible, the Mediterranean Sea is so peaceful and amazing. We were sitting there, in Nice, eating amazing, cheap food, watching the jellyfish swim around the ocean. After eating and sitting there taking it in for about an hour and a half, we walked back to our room and passed out, with me sleeping on the floor and Analise and Holly in the bed.
At some point in the middle of the night, I had some sort of dream (some might call it a night terror), that there were people in robes like monks in our room going to kills us or take our stuff or something. So I started screaming in my sleep. I was saying things like "Guys there is someone in here" and, to the imaginary intruders, "Can I help you?" over and over, loudly. They turned on the lights and I realized there was no one in there and passed back out. They woke up when I was doing it, but didn't really say anything until we woke up this morning. As I write this, they are rolling around laughing about it. I forgot to warn them I have this problem. It might happen again, who knows.
After we woke up and got ready, we headed to the supermarket to get our provisions for our trip. We bought peaches, tomatoes, bananas (ick), lots of cheese, baguette, cookies, chocolate, chips, water, juice, croissants with chocolate in the middle, and ham for less than 40 euros. And, except for the fact that we've eaten 2 giant baguettes, it should last us while we're here in Nice and some left for the train. After we came back, the maids were in our room so we tried to plan some more of our trip, and put the groceries in our mini fridge. I made sandwiches and we headed out to the beach. We laid on the beach, alternating between being in the water and tanning. And, since we were in Nice, I may have spent a portion of my time there topless. When in Rome, right? We got super dark sitting out there for 5.5 hours. We came back and have just been munching on cheese and bread and drinking cava and watching French TV. Tonight we're planning on going out, but we haven't made any motion towards showering or anything. But I'm going to shower because I smell super Euro especially since I haven't bathed since crossing borders. Tuesday we're going to Paris, so I might not be able to write again until Thursday, but I'll have lots to write about when I do!
6.06.2008
All the Rage in Spain
This is the video I was talking about. It is everywhere here.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=74mBEXL9UgM
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=74mBEXL9UgM
6.04.2008
El Fin del Programa
Tonight is our farewell dinner. I can't believe its over, 28 days have gone by so fast! Then I'll be off to France (Nice and Paris) for a couple days then to Madrid until the 26th. I love Barcelona. I'm glad class is over but I'm not sure I'm ready to leave Barcelona, or the group. Okay that's somewhat of a lie. I can't stand some people in the group (who may or may not be reading this and wondering if I hate them) and can't wait to be done with them. But there are some people who I wish I could spend more time with. But I am so excited for France!
Last time I left off I was leaving to meet up with Holly and Analise for lunch and some shopping. The weather had been somewhat horrible before that and was not looking like it was going to shape up. We met up and headed to find somewhere to eat and ended up at El Roncó. When we walked in, it seemed like a cool place; the food however, left a lot to be desired. First we shared salad, which was actually delicious and perhaps the best part of the meal. It was relatively simple: cured ham, greens, croutons, mandarin oranges, goat cheese, and a simple dressing. Then we got our main courses. Holly had this pocket thing with ham, cheese and mushrooms that was generally bland. Analise had pasta with red caviar and salmon. It was fishy and over salted. Sylvia had spaghetti bolognese which was normal and boring. I had skewers of beef and chicken which were burnt and didn't have much flavor to begin with. The house rose wine was really good, but in general this place was a bust.
After a mostly crappy lunch on an already miserable day, we decided to walk around in the rain. This did not help the lingering grumpiness that was hovering on the surface of my mood. We walked for a bit and ran into a cool American chica who is traveling around Europe for the summer. She goes to Rice (smartie) but seemed really interesting. We got her number and promised to meet up with her later. We kept walking, even though I had crossed the border into grumpyville and tried (unsuccessfully) to find somewhere to get a cafe con leche. We perused a sex shop which specialized in anal plugs (freaky) and eventually got on the bus to go home. I wanted to nap and spend some time to myself, which I accomplished and came out in a much better mood.
Following dinner and a shower, Hollly and Analise came over to drink wine and prepare for going out. We then headed out to Chupitos to warm up some more with their specialty: shots. We sat down next to this group of crazy, loud, fun Mexicans and somehow ended up friends. They were so much fun. They were all studying at a culinary school here (jealous) and spoke English pretty well. They kept singing some song that would demand us to drink, and of course we acquiesced. After feeling a buzz coming on, we wanted to go to an authentic Barcelona discoteca, so we got on the train to RazzMaTazz, which is in an abandoned warehouse somewhere far away from where I live. A ton of people from our group said it was a great time and so we decided to try it.
The train ride from Chupitos to RazzMaTazz was so much fun. The Mexicans we met up with were dancing and singing and acting crazy. Good times.
Once we got there, the line was horrendous, like wrapped around the building. It wasn't open yet (it didn't open until 3A and we got there like 15 minutes before it opened) but it was still long and treacherous. But we did it anyway. We lost the Mexicans because they had to pee and didn't want to stand in line, which we were really sad about seeing as how our morale for the night just went down considerably. We were standing in line in front of these three Spanish guys (one of whom I suspected was a skinhead) who were smoking and drinking beer for awhile. And then, one of them reached into his pants, as in the band of his underwear, and pulled out a tiny blue pouch. He opened it up, and it was undoubtedly cocaine. They all licked their fingers, dipped them in the coke, and rubbed the coke on their gums. Holly, Analise and I were just staring agape. Seriously? Cocaine? And then another guy popped some ecstasy. Sufficiently freaked out (and the club had filled so they weren't letting people in for awhile), we went home.
I had decided long before we even left to go out that Sunday would be a do nothing at all day. And it was. I woke up late, stayed in my pajamas all day, played cards with Sylvia, napped for 3 hours, ate, studied, and went to bed early. While I missed out on a couple sightseeing opportunities, I needed a day of rest.
Monday morning we had class. Since we had no excursion afterwards, we decided that in order to become unrecognizably tan (our goal) we needed some beach time. The weather was perfect for the beach. Sunny, warm, perfect. We stayed for 4.5 hours and I got some serious tan, finally. We all went home to shower and get ready to go out that night. Since it was our last week in BCN, we wanted to finish in style. So we went to Oveja Negra, drank a pitcher of sangria, and went home.
Tuesday of this week is by far one of my favorite of the trip. It was also Zach's birthday (my little brother). I called him in the morning while I was brushing my teeth, but he didn't pick up because it was like 2A US time. After class, we had several hours before our excursion, so we decided to beach it up again. However, we got there, got all set up, ready to get super tan, and a storm started to roll through. So we left and went to eat Hot Doks, which was very satisfying, as usual. Last Wednesday, when we went to Sitges, Jordi and Silvia told us they decided they wanted to take the group of us (me, Sylvia, Analise, Holly, Kate, Michelle, Craig, and Austin) to this cool restaurant/fish market because they thought we would appreciate it the most. So Tuesday we went to the Picasso museum as our excursion. The museum was cool. I didn't know Picasso really started out as more of a classic artist, the crazy paintings that he is so well known for came later on in his life. The museum had a lot of famous stuff and was pretty enjoyable, although the whole time I was distracted by visions of the fish market that we were going to afterwards.
After the museum, we waited around for a bit because the place didn't open until 8P. The group ended up being a lot of fun people: me, Craig, Analise, Holly, Dan, Ryan, Brenden, Claire, Deanna, Joe, Christina, Jordi, Silvia, and (best of all) John C. Wilcox. The way it worked was they had this table filled with different kinds of seafood: fish, clams, oysters, mussels, lobster, etc. You chose what you wanted, how much, and how to cook it. Silvia and Jordi helped us order to ensure that we got a good mix and good stuff. We got a boatload of steamed clams, mussels in red sauce, cold boiled shrimp, shrimp grilled in butter sauce, grilled octopus, grilled epia (similar to calimari), and the tiny fried things with eyes that were phenomenal. All of it was the freshest seafood I have ever had (which says a lot) since most of it was still moving when we picked it out. Since the Mediterranean is so salty, most of it was saltier than I'm used to, but equally delicious. We also had bread and Blanc Pescador which is a bubbly white wine. Between Craig, myself, Analise, and Holly, we put away 3 bottles. Dinner was amazing. Then, Jordi and Silvia decided they liked us enough to take us to get mojitos. We walked (the entire group sporting a solid wine buzz) to the bar. It was a cool place, great atmosphere for sitting and having drinks and talking. Craig and I decided to order different things and share them. I got a cava cocktail and he got a mojito. The cava cocktail was a fruity, girly drink. His mojito was really good. I put away the cava cocktail and went to get something more my taste which is when I remember my love for the vodka gimlet. Which was delicious. We were all sitting in a circle and Craig and I spent most of the night talking politics with JCW. I love politics and I love JCW, so it was pretty ideal. I took a lot of cool pictures, although some people think they're creepy because I really don't like posed pictures. We stayed, talking and drinking, until like 1:30 in the morning when I headed home to pass out, slightly drunk.
The next morning we went to class again as usual. We had an excursion planned for 3:15 so I went home and changed and worked on my project some in between. At 3:15 we met up to head to a bomb shelter built during the Spanish civil war. Our tour wasn't until 5P so we went to the supermercat (supermarket in Catalan) to get snacks and ended up talking to Marianna for like an hour. Marianna is great (she reads this too). She's so much fun. I signed up to take basic Catalan this coming semester and hopefully she'll be my teacher.
The bomb shelter was awesome, but somewhat creepy. War things creep me out. It was pretty big for what it was, and we had to wear hard hats inside because although it is sturdy, it is also pretty old. There wasn't any crazy stuff inside, but it was interesting to see where people went and how they dealt with imminent bombing danger. After the bomb shelter, we headed to a cafe to put together our final project. We got to sit outside and I ordered sangria but didn't like it too much (it was oddly cloudy) but we got it done. I came home early to make our powerpoint and sleep.
Thursday was our last day of class, sadly. The two Spanish 208 classes got together to watch each other's presentations. Ours was on hairstyles, which are pretty different compared to the US. Throughout our class, there's been a joke going about a Spanish singer, Chikilicuatre, and his awful song that was part of the Eurovision competition this year. Jordi hates it. So I tried to put it at the end of my powerpoint as a joke for Jordi, but the internet wasn't working and ruined my surprise. If you want to see what I'm talking about, follow the link at the bottom.
Once our last class we finished, Craig, Sylvia and I met up and headed to Las Ramblas to try and do some shopping. We stopped for some churros con chocolate and accidentally got 3 orders of churros when we only meant to get one. We still inhaled it all. Craig took care of most of my chocolate because I didn't want dairy coma. Sylvia got tired so she went home and Craig and I walked around until it started pouring. Then we met up with Holly and Analise to try and find some paella (Craig hadn't had it yet, what a loss). We wanted to get out of the rain as quickly as possible, so we ducked into a tapas place that JCW had recommended. I ordered Johnnie Walker Black (which cured some home sickness I'd been harboring) and kicked back with my friend Johnnie and let Craig order for the two of us. We shared several delicious tapas: fried blood sausages, fried cuttlefish, meatballs cooked in squid, and bruscetta with melted cheese, onion, and more sausage. All of it was wonderful. And I got to legally drink Johnnie Walker at 3P. Analise and Holly ordered dessert which Craig and I liked better than they did; it was some sort of cake with liquer. Delicious. After sitting for 2 hours, we went to the train station to get our Eurorail tickets for Saturday and then went home for naps, showers, and dinner.
My last dinner from my senora was the potato-meatball-pea in yellow sauce dish that is really good, and tortilla espanola. Sylvia took one for the team and ate a lot because I was still full from comida and couldn't eat that much. After we were dressed and ready, we headed (for the last time) to Oveja Negra. Where I drank more scotch, talked to a couple foreigners, and got soaked in the rain. It was pouring when we were walking there, which was miserable. And we weren't having a great time there, which was worse. So Analise, Holly, and Sylvia dragged me to one more bar, which was so much fun. Jamboree was relatively close and was more club than bar. They played American music, some of it older, but it was fun to dance and drink (scotch and vodka gimlets) with some people from the group that we don't normally hang out with (excluding Craig. He stayed in because rain makes him melt apparently). After stumbling home (more drunk than I've ever been in BCN), I made it back and got a phone call from Holly.
Poor Holly. She had fallen asleep on the bus and missed her stop and somehow ended up in the mountains and couldn't figure out how to get back. She was so upset, I felt so bad for her. I googled where she was but didn't really knowhow to help her except to stay on the phone until she found a cab, which she eventually did and made it back around 5A. Ah, yes. 5 in the morning. I'm glad we met again. My second to last night out in Barcelona and I know I did it up right since I didn't go to sleep until 5.
No excursions today until later, so I woke up at noon (on my own which is weird. I thought I would sleep longer) and went to meet up with Craig. We walked around, shopping and talking, for awhile, stopping to eat patatas bravas and blood sausage on bread, got lost in the city, walked around the giant market again, and took pictures of the university. It was nice to be able to experience some leisure in Barcelona instead of constantly going. Now, I'm laying in my bed (which I will not miss when I leave this place), watching the flies buzz around my room. I must shower, though, and be off to our farewell dinner where I am guranteed filet mignon (we ordered yesterday) and other delicious Spanish cuisine. Afterwards, we're going out with Jordi, Silvia, Marianne, hopefully JCW for drinks and who knows. And at some point I must pack (which I hate) before tomorrow at 7:30A when I leave for the train to France. I'm mixed between sadness that the program is over and excitement for my next Euro adventures, but mostly excitement. Next time I write, I'll be in France!
Last time I left off I was leaving to meet up with Holly and Analise for lunch and some shopping. The weather had been somewhat horrible before that and was not looking like it was going to shape up. We met up and headed to find somewhere to eat and ended up at El Roncó. When we walked in, it seemed like a cool place; the food however, left a lot to be desired. First we shared salad, which was actually delicious and perhaps the best part of the meal. It was relatively simple: cured ham, greens, croutons, mandarin oranges, goat cheese, and a simple dressing. Then we got our main courses. Holly had this pocket thing with ham, cheese and mushrooms that was generally bland. Analise had pasta with red caviar and salmon. It was fishy and over salted. Sylvia had spaghetti bolognese which was normal and boring. I had skewers of beef and chicken which were burnt and didn't have much flavor to begin with. The house rose wine was really good, but in general this place was a bust.
After a mostly crappy lunch on an already miserable day, we decided to walk around in the rain. This did not help the lingering grumpiness that was hovering on the surface of my mood. We walked for a bit and ran into a cool American chica who is traveling around Europe for the summer. She goes to Rice (smartie) but seemed really interesting. We got her number and promised to meet up with her later. We kept walking, even though I had crossed the border into grumpyville and tried (unsuccessfully) to find somewhere to get a cafe con leche. We perused a sex shop which specialized in anal plugs (freaky) and eventually got on the bus to go home. I wanted to nap and spend some time to myself, which I accomplished and came out in a much better mood.
Following dinner and a shower, Hollly and Analise came over to drink wine and prepare for going out. We then headed out to Chupitos to warm up some more with their specialty: shots. We sat down next to this group of crazy, loud, fun Mexicans and somehow ended up friends. They were so much fun. They were all studying at a culinary school here (jealous) and spoke English pretty well. They kept singing some song that would demand us to drink, and of course we acquiesced. After feeling a buzz coming on, we wanted to go to an authentic Barcelona discoteca, so we got on the train to RazzMaTazz, which is in an abandoned warehouse somewhere far away from where I live. A ton of people from our group said it was a great time and so we decided to try it.
The train ride from Chupitos to RazzMaTazz was so much fun. The Mexicans we met up with were dancing and singing and acting crazy. Good times.
Once we got there, the line was horrendous, like wrapped around the building. It wasn't open yet (it didn't open until 3A and we got there like 15 minutes before it opened) but it was still long and treacherous. But we did it anyway. We lost the Mexicans because they had to pee and didn't want to stand in line, which we were really sad about seeing as how our morale for the night just went down considerably. We were standing in line in front of these three Spanish guys (one of whom I suspected was a skinhead) who were smoking and drinking beer for awhile. And then, one of them reached into his pants, as in the band of his underwear, and pulled out a tiny blue pouch. He opened it up, and it was undoubtedly cocaine. They all licked their fingers, dipped them in the coke, and rubbed the coke on their gums. Holly, Analise and I were just staring agape. Seriously? Cocaine? And then another guy popped some ecstasy. Sufficiently freaked out (and the club had filled so they weren't letting people in for awhile), we went home.
I had decided long before we even left to go out that Sunday would be a do nothing at all day. And it was. I woke up late, stayed in my pajamas all day, played cards with Sylvia, napped for 3 hours, ate, studied, and went to bed early. While I missed out on a couple sightseeing opportunities, I needed a day of rest.
Monday morning we had class. Since we had no excursion afterwards, we decided that in order to become unrecognizably tan (our goal) we needed some beach time. The weather was perfect for the beach. Sunny, warm, perfect. We stayed for 4.5 hours and I got some serious tan, finally. We all went home to shower and get ready to go out that night. Since it was our last week in BCN, we wanted to finish in style. So we went to Oveja Negra, drank a pitcher of sangria, and went home.
Tuesday of this week is by far one of my favorite of the trip. It was also Zach's birthday (my little brother). I called him in the morning while I was brushing my teeth, but he didn't pick up because it was like 2A US time. After class, we had several hours before our excursion, so we decided to beach it up again. However, we got there, got all set up, ready to get super tan, and a storm started to roll through. So we left and went to eat Hot Doks, which was very satisfying, as usual. Last Wednesday, when we went to Sitges, Jordi and Silvia told us they decided they wanted to take the group of us (me, Sylvia, Analise, Holly, Kate, Michelle, Craig, and Austin) to this cool restaurant/fish market because they thought we would appreciate it the most. So Tuesday we went to the Picasso museum as our excursion. The museum was cool. I didn't know Picasso really started out as more of a classic artist, the crazy paintings that he is so well known for came later on in his life. The museum had a lot of famous stuff and was pretty enjoyable, although the whole time I was distracted by visions of the fish market that we were going to afterwards.
After the museum, we waited around for a bit because the place didn't open until 8P. The group ended up being a lot of fun people: me, Craig, Analise, Holly, Dan, Ryan, Brenden, Claire, Deanna, Joe, Christina, Jordi, Silvia, and (best of all) John C. Wilcox. The way it worked was they had this table filled with different kinds of seafood: fish, clams, oysters, mussels, lobster, etc. You chose what you wanted, how much, and how to cook it. Silvia and Jordi helped us order to ensure that we got a good mix and good stuff. We got a boatload of steamed clams, mussels in red sauce, cold boiled shrimp, shrimp grilled in butter sauce, grilled octopus, grilled epia (similar to calimari), and the tiny fried things with eyes that were phenomenal. All of it was the freshest seafood I have ever had (which says a lot) since most of it was still moving when we picked it out. Since the Mediterranean is so salty, most of it was saltier than I'm used to, but equally delicious. We also had bread and Blanc Pescador which is a bubbly white wine. Between Craig, myself, Analise, and Holly, we put away 3 bottles. Dinner was amazing. Then, Jordi and Silvia decided they liked us enough to take us to get mojitos. We walked (the entire group sporting a solid wine buzz) to the bar. It was a cool place, great atmosphere for sitting and having drinks and talking. Craig and I decided to order different things and share them. I got a cava cocktail and he got a mojito. The cava cocktail was a fruity, girly drink. His mojito was really good. I put away the cava cocktail and went to get something more my taste which is when I remember my love for the vodka gimlet. Which was delicious. We were all sitting in a circle and Craig and I spent most of the night talking politics with JCW. I love politics and I love JCW, so it was pretty ideal. I took a lot of cool pictures, although some people think they're creepy because I really don't like posed pictures. We stayed, talking and drinking, until like 1:30 in the morning when I headed home to pass out, slightly drunk.
The next morning we went to class again as usual. We had an excursion planned for 3:15 so I went home and changed and worked on my project some in between. At 3:15 we met up to head to a bomb shelter built during the Spanish civil war. Our tour wasn't until 5P so we went to the supermercat (supermarket in Catalan) to get snacks and ended up talking to Marianna for like an hour. Marianna is great (she reads this too). She's so much fun. I signed up to take basic Catalan this coming semester and hopefully she'll be my teacher.
The bomb shelter was awesome, but somewhat creepy. War things creep me out. It was pretty big for what it was, and we had to wear hard hats inside because although it is sturdy, it is also pretty old. There wasn't any crazy stuff inside, but it was interesting to see where people went and how they dealt with imminent bombing danger. After the bomb shelter, we headed to a cafe to put together our final project. We got to sit outside and I ordered sangria but didn't like it too much (it was oddly cloudy) but we got it done. I came home early to make our powerpoint and sleep.
Thursday was our last day of class, sadly. The two Spanish 208 classes got together to watch each other's presentations. Ours was on hairstyles, which are pretty different compared to the US. Throughout our class, there's been a joke going about a Spanish singer, Chikilicuatre, and his awful song that was part of the Eurovision competition this year. Jordi hates it. So I tried to put it at the end of my powerpoint as a joke for Jordi, but the internet wasn't working and ruined my surprise. If you want to see what I'm talking about, follow the link at the bottom.
Once our last class we finished, Craig, Sylvia and I met up and headed to Las Ramblas to try and do some shopping. We stopped for some churros con chocolate and accidentally got 3 orders of churros when we only meant to get one. We still inhaled it all. Craig took care of most of my chocolate because I didn't want dairy coma. Sylvia got tired so she went home and Craig and I walked around until it started pouring. Then we met up with Holly and Analise to try and find some paella (Craig hadn't had it yet, what a loss). We wanted to get out of the rain as quickly as possible, so we ducked into a tapas place that JCW had recommended. I ordered Johnnie Walker Black (which cured some home sickness I'd been harboring) and kicked back with my friend Johnnie and let Craig order for the two of us. We shared several delicious tapas: fried blood sausages, fried cuttlefish, meatballs cooked in squid, and bruscetta with melted cheese, onion, and more sausage. All of it was wonderful. And I got to legally drink Johnnie Walker at 3P. Analise and Holly ordered dessert which Craig and I liked better than they did; it was some sort of cake with liquer. Delicious. After sitting for 2 hours, we went to the train station to get our Eurorail tickets for Saturday and then went home for naps, showers, and dinner.
My last dinner from my senora was the potato-meatball-pea in yellow sauce dish that is really good, and tortilla espanola. Sylvia took one for the team and ate a lot because I was still full from comida and couldn't eat that much. After we were dressed and ready, we headed (for the last time) to Oveja Negra. Where I drank more scotch, talked to a couple foreigners, and got soaked in the rain. It was pouring when we were walking there, which was miserable. And we weren't having a great time there, which was worse. So Analise, Holly, and Sylvia dragged me to one more bar, which was so much fun. Jamboree was relatively close and was more club than bar. They played American music, some of it older, but it was fun to dance and drink (scotch and vodka gimlets) with some people from the group that we don't normally hang out with (excluding Craig. He stayed in because rain makes him melt apparently). After stumbling home (more drunk than I've ever been in BCN), I made it back and got a phone call from Holly.
Poor Holly. She had fallen asleep on the bus and missed her stop and somehow ended up in the mountains and couldn't figure out how to get back. She was so upset, I felt so bad for her. I googled where she was but didn't really knowhow to help her except to stay on the phone until she found a cab, which she eventually did and made it back around 5A. Ah, yes. 5 in the morning. I'm glad we met again. My second to last night out in Barcelona and I know I did it up right since I didn't go to sleep until 5.
No excursions today until later, so I woke up at noon (on my own which is weird. I thought I would sleep longer) and went to meet up with Craig. We walked around, shopping and talking, for awhile, stopping to eat patatas bravas and blood sausage on bread, got lost in the city, walked around the giant market again, and took pictures of the university. It was nice to be able to experience some leisure in Barcelona instead of constantly going. Now, I'm laying in my bed (which I will not miss when I leave this place), watching the flies buzz around my room. I must shower, though, and be off to our farewell dinner where I am guranteed filet mignon (we ordered yesterday) and other delicious Spanish cuisine. Afterwards, we're going out with Jordi, Silvia, Marianne, hopefully JCW for drinks and who knows. And at some point I must pack (which I hate) before tomorrow at 7:30A when I leave for the train to France. I'm mixed between sadness that the program is over and excitement for my next Euro adventures, but mostly excitement. Next time I write, I'll be in France!
5.31.2008
La Vida Española
The Spanish life. I love it. Last night, I had cheese for dinner. Cheese! For dinner! Awesome.
Last time I posted was after Sitges. Sitges was beautiful, I'd love to go back there when the weather is nice and lay on the beach all afternoon. Thursday we had class in the morning and we didn't have anything else until 5P. Me, Holly, Analise, and Sylvia didn't think it would be a good day for the beach so we didn't bring our stuff. However, it was a beautiful afternoon. So we headed over to Las Ramblas to shop and found this really awesome store called Sky Republic. It was relatively inexpensive and had a lot of really cool, Spanish stuff. I bought some presents for myself and others. We walked around and tried to shop some more, but stores close from 2P-5P for comida (lunch, sort of) and siesta (nap...this is why I love Spain) so we headed to find some comida for ourselves.
Seeing as how it was paella day, we headed to a restaurant that Silvia and Jordi had recommended that was right down the street from the University. We sat outside in the sun and drank sangria (it was pretty weak, but still refreshing). For our first course, we all had paella. It was so much better than the paella of last week. This week's paella was not nearly as greasy and had pork ribs, calamari, and shrimp. It was Sylvia's first time and she's a true convert now. After that, we all ordered different second plates. I had bistec (steak), Holly had sausages, Sylvia had bacalau (cod), and Analise had tuna. Everything was served with french fries and a roasted pepper. I liked mine the best. Sylvia's cod was good, but it had bones in it. Holly's sausages were somewhat flavorless, and I didn't really like Analise's tuna at all. But none of it was terrible, I just liked mine the best. All of this and bread for 9 euros.
After sitting in the sun for 2hours, we needed something cold. So we found some gelato. I think Spain has ruined ice cream for me. It's so cold and creamy and delicious. I had hazelnut, which tasted like Nutella. Yummy. We went and sat around the jardín at the University and eventually met up with the group to head over to la Sagrada Familia which is a Gaudí work in the middle of the city. It is incredible.
La Sagrada Familia is a church that Gaudí designed (actually, he was the second architect to work on it, but the most famous and did the most work). It has been a work in progress since 1892 and won't be done for another 20 years. The details on the facade are amazing, so intricate and artistic. Just more proof that Gaudí is a genius. Eventually, it will be the tallest building in Barcelona, but right now it is still not finished. The inside is equally beautiful and demonstrates the different eras that have been spent working on it; for example, the material of the columns has changed over time because they have discovered that other things are stronger than granite. Gaudí designed this building the same way as he did the other: modeling the structure after nature. We saw some of his templates in the museum and then we finally got to go up into the towers.
It cost 2 euros to go up (last weekend I dropped 3.50 euros for a bottle of water so I figured I would be shameful not to spend 2 euros to go) in the elevator. It didn't go to the top, but it was certainly high and the view from the top was spectacular. You could see the entire city, the moutains, and the sea all at once. Absolutely breath taking. The passageways and bridges and stairs were tiny and crammed and the stairs were so narrow only one person (barely) could go pass at a time. I decided the narrow stairways were Gaudí (in his infinite wisdom) symbolizing the lack of personal space that the Spanish people tend to maintain. We made it down eventually, with breaks to check out the views of the city and listen to this crazy British kid. He told us he couldn't swear in church and was freaking out about the stairs and kept saying things like "Oh my bleep I'm going to bleeping die".
After surviving the stairs (they were really quite nerve wrecking), we headed home and managed to not nap and eat an early dinner so that we could go out. We had chicken (delicious), rice, salad and bread. Notice how there is not a laundry list of food, and finally not epic portions. It was really tasty. Around 11, Me, Holly, Analise, Michelle, Kate, and Sylvia headed to Oveja Negra to start out our night. We hadn't been out since Saturday, so we were ready to party.
Oveja negra was a bust. In Spain, they don't really start going out until most Americans are wrapping up their night, so getting to Oveja Negra at 11P was a tad early for Spaniards. We did sit next to some Spaniards who were trying to practice their English on us, even though we understand and speak Spanish. The guy I was talking to would take 2 minutes to respond to my questions that I asked in Spanish, and his responses were limited to less than 8 words. Luckily, I had a gin and tonic to get me through the experience. That got old very quickly, so we left and went to Chupitos, where we went last Thursday.
Let me preface Chupitos by mentioning my poor choice in footwear. Barcelona is a walking city, and wearing wedges was a bad idea. Anyways, at Chupitos we decided it was time for shots. At Chupitos they have flaming shots, which we had to do, naturally. We started with a boy scout. The bartender pours alcohol on the bar and lights it up and you take a skewered marshmallow and toast it over the flame. Then you put the toasted mallow in the shot to liquor it up, eat the mallow, and take the shot. I had 2 of these over the period of the night. They were tasty. After that we watched some people do something crazy, so we decided to try it. I think it might have been absinthe, but all I know is that it is blue. The bartender put the liquid and an empty shot glass in a bowl and lit the shot on fire. Then, she took a tall glass and put it over the shot glass which somehow (and I should probably know how, but I don't) the liquid went into the shot glass. After she pulled the glass off, she covered the tall glass with her hand while you drank the liquid with a straw. When you were done with the liquid, you drank the fumes left in the tall glass. Very strange, I must say. But interesting. We decided that was enough shots and moved on a liter of pure liquor, which tasted amazing and I have no clue what was in it.
We weren't really seeing any cute guys but we decided to sit down and see if some appeared. They did. Hot Spaniards. We started talking to them and they were fun (and incredibly hot) so we spent the rest of the night hanging out with them. That night, Analise had worn a skirt that was somewhat sheer, but only in really bright light. Well, at Chupito's, they have black lights and it's pretty dark. About halfway through the night, we discovered that you could see Analise's white panties through her skirt thanks to the black light. Her crotch was glowing, hilarious. We met some more people, including some Columbian girls who were really nice. We also did more shots (somewhere in there was another boy scout and some tequila). David took sweetly to Holly and the train conductor (he drives a train for the Metro) and I hit it off. I do not know his name/maybe cannot remember it. We left Chupitos as they were closing. I'm not going to lie, I was pretty drunk and really wanted to go to bed. They wanted to take us somewhere else, but we made the good decision to go home since we had to wake up so early in the morning for our excursion. We walked back to the University to catch the bus home and on the way, Analise had to pee, so she did so on an ATM. Sylvia and I headed home on the bus, where I was a bit of a drunk circus, but nothing too terrible; and the whole time I was barefoot. I got to my bed at 4A and passed out cold.
I woke up in the morning a little bit afraid to open my eyes, thinking a hangover was imminent. Luckily, my liver did me a favor and I was perfectly fine. I picked up some Hot Doks (this is always a good idea after drinking in Barcelona; the grease just works wonders) for me and Holly and got on the bus to Montserrat, a monastery about an hour outside of Barcelona in the mountains.
Montserrat was beautiful. We got there and on the way towards the monastery found some people selling local fares. I bought a couple surprises which will hopefully not get taken by customs (I'm totally prepared to lie in order to sneak them across the border) and Craig, Analise, and I decided to go down to Santa Cova, this place that has something to do with visions of the Virgin. This was quite a hike, but breathtaking views. We stopped several times to just sit and take it in. Santa Cova is (I would call) a shrine to the virgin. People also come here and bring tokens to offer up to God. Which is somewhat creepy. We went into the room where people left them and it was all at once sad, creepy, and somewhat happy. It was pretty cool to see, definitely something we do not have in the United States. We were supposed to be back by 1 to hear the choir boys sing, but we didn't make it due to some tram confusion. I have some trouble with my asthma here (Spaniards smoke a lot, and it makes my asthma worse) so we had to take the tram and didn't catch the one before 1P. We are pretty sure we heard them practicing as we climbed down the mountain, which was really peaceful and something I will never forget, sitting on the edge of a mountain listening to the boys choir and looking out over the mountains. Wow. Once we made it back to the montesary, we bought a cheesecake (not actually a cheesecake, more like cheesecake flavored flan) and inhaled it. We got back to Barcelona around 3 and headed home for a siesta and to prepare to see King Lear (or Rey Lear) that night.
(Warning: this might become somewhat explicit as I am still harboring rage towards the incident)
When I got home, I went to throw myself in my bed and noticed some brown streaks on my covers, which were definitely not there before I left. I knew I had been drunk the night before, but was 100% certain that I did not leave them there. I bent down to smell them. Unmistakably dog shit. The fucking dog had wiped her nasty ass all over my bed. I went and told my Senora, who was not nearly embarrassed enough in my opinion, who said she would wash my sheets. What the hell, dog? Why my bed? Ugh...I could kill that bitch.
After I peeled the sheets off my bed, I fumbled around on the internet for awhile and tried to sleep, but sleeping without sheets was difficult so I got up and cleaned my room. After a shower, I got dressed for the theater. I thought I should dress like I would in the states, dress, heels, etc. Heels were again a mistake. This time a much much more terrible mistake. Analise, Sylvia and I took the train to the theater. Craig had said it was right next to this building, so when we got there, we walked towards that building thinking we would find the theater. By the time we realized we were going the wrong way, it was like 13 minutes until the door closed. I took off my shoes and jogged and barely made it. I will not be wearing heels in Barcelona again, unless I plan to take a taxi. The play was well done, I think. For the most part, they spoke really fast and I didn't quite understand it. As it is, King Lear is hard to understand in English. But the adaptation was really interesting in terms of the set and the costumes and King Lear the actor was amazing. The rest were somewhat mediocre, over dramatic and such. Overall, it was really awesome and I feel really cultured now that I can say I've seen King Lear in Spanish.
After King Lear, I once again walked home barefoot, and we stopped into Hot Doks (it was the only thing open on our block) for a drink (Fanta Naranja is my favorite here) and snack. After our appetizer, we came back to our apartment and had cheese, grapes, and bread for dinner at like midnight. It was nice to do something relaxing, and I could eat cheese for every meal and not even want something else. I used the phone to talk to Daddy and Kaleb (phone cards here are thieves...I can usually only use them for like 30 minutes max) to say hi and that I'm alive. Later on, Mommy called me and we talked for awhile. It was good to talk to people at home. I haven't been home since March so I'm a little homesick, but Barcelona is incredible so I don't let it set me back. At 5A my time, Rachie called! I was sleeping, but I woke up and we got to talk, which was great. I slept until noon and have just been putzing around here, trying to decide something to do. The weather hasn't been good for the beach. They had a really dry winter and now the weather is making up for it by raining a lot. Which is good because they need the rain, but bad because I want a tan. I'm sure we'll find something good, if not just go eat somewhere new and different and maybe go to Park Guell. Sylvia has been there so she's not sure she wants to go, and I'm not sure the weather will hold out. I should go get dressed and ready.
¡Les quiero y hasta luego!
Last time I posted was after Sitges. Sitges was beautiful, I'd love to go back there when the weather is nice and lay on the beach all afternoon. Thursday we had class in the morning and we didn't have anything else until 5P. Me, Holly, Analise, and Sylvia didn't think it would be a good day for the beach so we didn't bring our stuff. However, it was a beautiful afternoon. So we headed over to Las Ramblas to shop and found this really awesome store called Sky Republic. It was relatively inexpensive and had a lot of really cool, Spanish stuff. I bought some presents for myself and others. We walked around and tried to shop some more, but stores close from 2P-5P for comida (lunch, sort of) and siesta (nap...this is why I love Spain) so we headed to find some comida for ourselves.
Seeing as how it was paella day, we headed to a restaurant that Silvia and Jordi had recommended that was right down the street from the University. We sat outside in the sun and drank sangria (it was pretty weak, but still refreshing). For our first course, we all had paella. It was so much better than the paella of last week. This week's paella was not nearly as greasy and had pork ribs, calamari, and shrimp. It was Sylvia's first time and she's a true convert now. After that, we all ordered different second plates. I had bistec (steak), Holly had sausages, Sylvia had bacalau (cod), and Analise had tuna. Everything was served with french fries and a roasted pepper. I liked mine the best. Sylvia's cod was good, but it had bones in it. Holly's sausages were somewhat flavorless, and I didn't really like Analise's tuna at all. But none of it was terrible, I just liked mine the best. All of this and bread for 9 euros.
After sitting in the sun for 2hours, we needed something cold. So we found some gelato. I think Spain has ruined ice cream for me. It's so cold and creamy and delicious. I had hazelnut, which tasted like Nutella. Yummy. We went and sat around the jardín at the University and eventually met up with the group to head over to la Sagrada Familia which is a Gaudí work in the middle of the city. It is incredible.
La Sagrada Familia is a church that Gaudí designed (actually, he was the second architect to work on it, but the most famous and did the most work). It has been a work in progress since 1892 and won't be done for another 20 years. The details on the facade are amazing, so intricate and artistic. Just more proof that Gaudí is a genius. Eventually, it will be the tallest building in Barcelona, but right now it is still not finished. The inside is equally beautiful and demonstrates the different eras that have been spent working on it; for example, the material of the columns has changed over time because they have discovered that other things are stronger than granite. Gaudí designed this building the same way as he did the other: modeling the structure after nature. We saw some of his templates in the museum and then we finally got to go up into the towers.
It cost 2 euros to go up (last weekend I dropped 3.50 euros for a bottle of water so I figured I would be shameful not to spend 2 euros to go) in the elevator. It didn't go to the top, but it was certainly high and the view from the top was spectacular. You could see the entire city, the moutains, and the sea all at once. Absolutely breath taking. The passageways and bridges and stairs were tiny and crammed and the stairs were so narrow only one person (barely) could go pass at a time. I decided the narrow stairways were Gaudí (in his infinite wisdom) symbolizing the lack of personal space that the Spanish people tend to maintain. We made it down eventually, with breaks to check out the views of the city and listen to this crazy British kid. He told us he couldn't swear in church and was freaking out about the stairs and kept saying things like "Oh my bleep I'm going to bleeping die".
After surviving the stairs (they were really quite nerve wrecking), we headed home and managed to not nap and eat an early dinner so that we could go out. We had chicken (delicious), rice, salad and bread. Notice how there is not a laundry list of food, and finally not epic portions. It was really tasty. Around 11, Me, Holly, Analise, Michelle, Kate, and Sylvia headed to Oveja Negra to start out our night. We hadn't been out since Saturday, so we were ready to party.
Oveja negra was a bust. In Spain, they don't really start going out until most Americans are wrapping up their night, so getting to Oveja Negra at 11P was a tad early for Spaniards. We did sit next to some Spaniards who were trying to practice their English on us, even though we understand and speak Spanish. The guy I was talking to would take 2 minutes to respond to my questions that I asked in Spanish, and his responses were limited to less than 8 words. Luckily, I had a gin and tonic to get me through the experience. That got old very quickly, so we left and went to Chupitos, where we went last Thursday.
Let me preface Chupitos by mentioning my poor choice in footwear. Barcelona is a walking city, and wearing wedges was a bad idea. Anyways, at Chupitos we decided it was time for shots. At Chupitos they have flaming shots, which we had to do, naturally. We started with a boy scout. The bartender pours alcohol on the bar and lights it up and you take a skewered marshmallow and toast it over the flame. Then you put the toasted mallow in the shot to liquor it up, eat the mallow, and take the shot. I had 2 of these over the period of the night. They were tasty. After that we watched some people do something crazy, so we decided to try it. I think it might have been absinthe, but all I know is that it is blue. The bartender put the liquid and an empty shot glass in a bowl and lit the shot on fire. Then, she took a tall glass and put it over the shot glass which somehow (and I should probably know how, but I don't) the liquid went into the shot glass. After she pulled the glass off, she covered the tall glass with her hand while you drank the liquid with a straw. When you were done with the liquid, you drank the fumes left in the tall glass. Very strange, I must say. But interesting. We decided that was enough shots and moved on a liter of pure liquor, which tasted amazing and I have no clue what was in it.
We weren't really seeing any cute guys but we decided to sit down and see if some appeared. They did. Hot Spaniards. We started talking to them and they were fun (and incredibly hot) so we spent the rest of the night hanging out with them. That night, Analise had worn a skirt that was somewhat sheer, but only in really bright light. Well, at Chupito's, they have black lights and it's pretty dark. About halfway through the night, we discovered that you could see Analise's white panties through her skirt thanks to the black light. Her crotch was glowing, hilarious. We met some more people, including some Columbian girls who were really nice. We also did more shots (somewhere in there was another boy scout and some tequila). David took sweetly to Holly and the train conductor (he drives a train for the Metro) and I hit it off. I do not know his name/maybe cannot remember it. We left Chupitos as they were closing. I'm not going to lie, I was pretty drunk and really wanted to go to bed. They wanted to take us somewhere else, but we made the good decision to go home since we had to wake up so early in the morning for our excursion. We walked back to the University to catch the bus home and on the way, Analise had to pee, so she did so on an ATM. Sylvia and I headed home on the bus, where I was a bit of a drunk circus, but nothing too terrible; and the whole time I was barefoot. I got to my bed at 4A and passed out cold.
I woke up in the morning a little bit afraid to open my eyes, thinking a hangover was imminent. Luckily, my liver did me a favor and I was perfectly fine. I picked up some Hot Doks (this is always a good idea after drinking in Barcelona; the grease just works wonders) for me and Holly and got on the bus to Montserrat, a monastery about an hour outside of Barcelona in the mountains.
Montserrat was beautiful. We got there and on the way towards the monastery found some people selling local fares. I bought a couple surprises which will hopefully not get taken by customs (I'm totally prepared to lie in order to sneak them across the border) and Craig, Analise, and I decided to go down to Santa Cova, this place that has something to do with visions of the Virgin. This was quite a hike, but breathtaking views. We stopped several times to just sit and take it in. Santa Cova is (I would call) a shrine to the virgin. People also come here and bring tokens to offer up to God. Which is somewhat creepy. We went into the room where people left them and it was all at once sad, creepy, and somewhat happy. It was pretty cool to see, definitely something we do not have in the United States. We were supposed to be back by 1 to hear the choir boys sing, but we didn't make it due to some tram confusion. I have some trouble with my asthma here (Spaniards smoke a lot, and it makes my asthma worse) so we had to take the tram and didn't catch the one before 1P. We are pretty sure we heard them practicing as we climbed down the mountain, which was really peaceful and something I will never forget, sitting on the edge of a mountain listening to the boys choir and looking out over the mountains. Wow. Once we made it back to the montesary, we bought a cheesecake (not actually a cheesecake, more like cheesecake flavored flan) and inhaled it. We got back to Barcelona around 3 and headed home for a siesta and to prepare to see King Lear (or Rey Lear) that night.
(Warning: this might become somewhat explicit as I am still harboring rage towards the incident)
When I got home, I went to throw myself in my bed and noticed some brown streaks on my covers, which were definitely not there before I left. I knew I had been drunk the night before, but was 100% certain that I did not leave them there. I bent down to smell them. Unmistakably dog shit. The fucking dog had wiped her nasty ass all over my bed. I went and told my Senora, who was not nearly embarrassed enough in my opinion, who said she would wash my sheets. What the hell, dog? Why my bed? Ugh...I could kill that bitch.
After I peeled the sheets off my bed, I fumbled around on the internet for awhile and tried to sleep, but sleeping without sheets was difficult so I got up and cleaned my room. After a shower, I got dressed for the theater. I thought I should dress like I would in the states, dress, heels, etc. Heels were again a mistake. This time a much much more terrible mistake. Analise, Sylvia and I took the train to the theater. Craig had said it was right next to this building, so when we got there, we walked towards that building thinking we would find the theater. By the time we realized we were going the wrong way, it was like 13 minutes until the door closed. I took off my shoes and jogged and barely made it. I will not be wearing heels in Barcelona again, unless I plan to take a taxi. The play was well done, I think. For the most part, they spoke really fast and I didn't quite understand it. As it is, King Lear is hard to understand in English. But the adaptation was really interesting in terms of the set and the costumes and King Lear the actor was amazing. The rest were somewhat mediocre, over dramatic and such. Overall, it was really awesome and I feel really cultured now that I can say I've seen King Lear in Spanish.
After King Lear, I once again walked home barefoot, and we stopped into Hot Doks (it was the only thing open on our block) for a drink (Fanta Naranja is my favorite here) and snack. After our appetizer, we came back to our apartment and had cheese, grapes, and bread for dinner at like midnight. It was nice to do something relaxing, and I could eat cheese for every meal and not even want something else. I used the phone to talk to Daddy and Kaleb (phone cards here are thieves...I can usually only use them for like 30 minutes max) to say hi and that I'm alive. Later on, Mommy called me and we talked for awhile. It was good to talk to people at home. I haven't been home since March so I'm a little homesick, but Barcelona is incredible so I don't let it set me back. At 5A my time, Rachie called! I was sleeping, but I woke up and we got to talk, which was great. I slept until noon and have just been putzing around here, trying to decide something to do. The weather hasn't been good for the beach. They had a really dry winter and now the weather is making up for it by raining a lot. Which is good because they need the rain, but bad because I want a tan. I'm sure we'll find something good, if not just go eat somewhere new and different and maybe go to Park Guell. Sylvia has been there so she's not sure she wants to go, and I'm not sure the weather will hold out. I should go get dressed and ready.
¡Les quiero y hasta luego!
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