Els classes de ILP

Forewarning: this is going to be a bit lengthy. That said, I am so happy to finally be here and be excited about it. I was the same way last year. Between the jet lag and culture shock, I was a little turned off to Barcelona the first 2 days. Not that I didn't want to be here, I was just a little closed off to so many new things coming at me at once. Not anymore! I'm almost over the jet lag (I could still sleep for days), and new things and this strange and exciting city are just exciting, and not scary. I hope this is making sense, I did just wake up from an accidental nap.

So the last time I wrote was before classes actually started. Well, they've started. And oh wow.

Monday morning they told us we needed to be at the Universitat de Barcelona (in the very center of the city) no later than 8:40A so we could find out where we placed before classes started. So I woke up at 7A, went to breakfast at 7:30A (more on food later), left for the bus stop at 8A, and made it to the university by 8:30A. They used letters to divide us up and no one really knows which group is the worst and which group is the best. Which is fine with me. I'm in group C, and there's another Illinois student in my group, Tom, and the rest are from California. At 9A, we walked into our first class.

Our first class is grammar with Monica. She talks kind of fast and makes the funniest noises when we say something wrong. Perhaps like a monkey? But I'm learning a lot about grammar. Things I should know but that are slowly coming back to me. Monday we dove right into it, with the usages and structures of ser and estar. Ser and estar are verbs you use to describe things, describe location, and they have all kinds of other uses. They mean 'to be' in English, but in Spanish there are two different types of 'to be' and it can be a little overwhelming trying to figure out which one to use, because there isn't a distinction in English. We've spent the last 3 days learning when and how to use both and being honked at when we're wrong.

After clase de gramática, we move to culture and literature class. We don't really have to read books or anything, this class is more about understanding the culture and history of Spain so we can understand things about the country we're living in for the next year. I'm not quite sure the name of the profesora, but she has a lovely voices that I have to fight against lulling me to sleep. So far the score is me: 2, sleep: 1. Monday we talked about languages of Spain, Tuesday was when sleep took over and I don't really remember, and today we got to ask her questions about Spain and why some things are the way they are. I learned that closing everything on Sunday is an old tradition to give people time to see their families and rest, since many stores are small and owned by one family. And also, a lot of things are closed right now because all of Europe is on vacation. Still deciding what I think about this.

Después de cultura y literatura, vamos a la clase de Catalá. Catalan is the easiest hour for me so far because I took an entire semester of it this past fall. Mireia (the teacher) chooses immersion as the best means for teaching us, so she speaks Catalan the entire time. I think Catalan is easier than Spanish personally, but I might be the only one that feels that way. We've learned how to say our names/who we are, where we're from, and our age. I haven't really learned anything new, it's mostly been a review.

After Catalan, we have composition with another Mireia. I adore her. First of all, everything she wears, including her hair, is bright colors, and the woman is 50+ and sweeter than chocolate creme pie. Also, she looks like she belongs in a Tim Burton movie, like The Night Before Christmas. She's tiny, stick thin and short, and she has giant eyes. I think it's her expressiveness that makes me think she and Tim Burton would be fast friends. And she is so kind and helpful. She'll answer any questions we have and is overjoyed to give us directions to places to try. Tomorrow she's giving me directions to her favorite paella restaurant. I think she and I will get along well. Composition is really helpful, since we're going to be in regular classes soon and will have to write. Everyone seems to hate composition, but I Mireia makes it bearable.

Finally, conversation class. Where we talk. And are constantly corrected. Because our Spanish is very elementary and we say things that don't make sense. I like our profesora for conversation, she has a lot of energy and is eager to help us understand. Conversation is a nice way to end the 5 hour repertoire of classes. It's not to heavy, but I still learn a lot.

So class runs for 5 hours straight, we get a couple short breaks, but it is really intense. I'm already thinking and translating in my head, which is a good sign that the language program is sticking. We usually have class 5 days a week, but this week we are going places on Friday so there's no class, which is nice. I'm really glad they do the language program because my Spanish was extra rusty and I would have sunk like the Titanic.

So, what else have I been doing besides class? Well, napping, quite a bit. Between waking up at 7:15 for class and jet lag, I'm a lot tired. And I foolishly stayed up late the other night (like 3A) to finish my book (The Help, which I HIGHLY recommend if you want something about race relations in the South around the time of the Civil Rights Act; it was excellent, I even cried).

Monday I walked around and went shopping for some things. I went to El Corté Inglés and bought a notebook and a planner. And then I went to the cell phone store to ask them some questions. Still no cell phone but I'm hoping tomorrow it will happen. I just need to stop napping and get my shit together. Tomorrow I will not nap, I promise.

So something else I've been getting a lot of questions about: the food. The dorm food is, well, between mediocre and terrible. Breakfast is probably the tastiest and usually consists of pastries like croissants or cheese danishes, donuts, fruit, yogurt, cheese, ham, cereal, and juice or milk or water. The dorm doesn't provide us lunch. But dinner is kind of touch and go. Last night's dinner was really good. We had chorizo baked into croissant dough, which is like the Spanish version of pigs in a blanket, a pork stew, fried zucchini, steamed carrots and peas, french baguette rolls, and this amazing melon that I get to the dining room early for. But tonight, not so good. There was a hot dog in mustard sauce, noodles with ham and a creamy sauce that after an uncivilized amount of salt and pepper tasted pretty good, watermelon, and bread. Another thing that has appeared is fried cauliflower, which is nasty as hell. We have french fries a lot, also. I'm just glad that lunch gives us the opportunity to try really delicious Spanish food.

I've only had lunch twice since my last post, yesterday I chose to sleep immediately after class. A lot of people in the program either don't eat lunch or just eat bread and an apple stolen from the dining room. This is not satisfying for me. I get cranky. So I've decided that it's totally worth it to eat lunch. Monday, we went to the cafe across the street from the University. I had a club sandwich and fries and Fanta Naranja. The sandwich was chicken breast, bacon, lettuce, tomato, and a fried egg. It was so good. Today, Eunice and I went to a cafe in L'illa which is a mall near the dorm. I had a guacamole sandwich and a salad. The sandwich was guacamole, thick fresh mozzarella slices, greens, tomato, sprinkled with herbs on a crisp multigrain bread with oats on top. Really tasty and refreshing. The salad was lettuce and chicken and croutons and parmesan with a creamy dressing, I think it was their version of caesar, and it was really good. Eunice and I also had dessert, for the first time since arriving in Spain. I had a tart with limoncello curd and raspberries, it was okay, pretty sweet and not as fresh tasting as I would have liked. Eunice had cheesecake which was phenomenal. It was rich but not too sweet, and I had been having a cheesecake craving so I definitely had a couple bites of that. So lunches have been good and tomorrow I'm going to try the paella place Mireia is going to give me directions to.

For now, I must go do my homework and get to bed at a decent hour so that I can wake up at 7:15A and get to class. I'll try and blog more often, do more, and nap less. Tomorrow is the last day of class for the week and I already have lots of plans for the weekend that I'm super excited about. But I'll make you wait until they actually happen. Also, I'm going to try and post pictures in my next post, but I really have to get homework done now, so you will have to tremble with anticipation until then. Fins aviat!

The Last 24 Hours

The last 24 hours have been interesting. After writing my last post, I headed down to the Menjador (dining room in Catalan) for dinner. I was almost dizzy with jet lag and starving so food was definitely welcome and I had some expectations but was curious to see what they were serving us. One of the graduate assistants that flew over with us said that we would get tired of the food, which I quickly understood why.

The dining room is large and luminous with brightly colored tables and chairs, a large, steaming buffet and a self-serve espresso machine at the end. You get a tray and a glass (I've been getting multiple glasses because I require lots of water) and the primer plat (first plate) is salad with lettuce, tomato, carrot, and corn from a can. A very Spanish salad that you put oil and vinegar on. I also had pasta with meat sauce, sausage, and french fries. Jet lag made dinner kind of patchy for me.

The plan was to go to the Festa Mayor de Gràcia which is this huge and amazing festival. So we walked to the metro stop, which was about 12 minutes away, and took it all around the city to the area that the festival was supposed to be in. As I had suspected from looking at the website, the festival had ended the day before, but there were still a ton of people walking in the streets so we just kind of wandered around looking for a place that would hold our group of 10. Spanish bars and restaurants are mostly small, you can have 4 people at a table, and you would never really take a big group without warning the place first. So it was kind of hard to find somewhere, and no one really wanted to make a decision. I was tired of walking around so I just walked in somewhere and everyone followed me.

The bar was tiny. With literally enough space for the bar stools and people to walk past them. Not really conducive to 12 people who want to sit and drink. But we made it work. The bartender was nice. First I had a beer, which was incredibly refreshing after walking around in the sticky heat for an hour. I wasn't planning on getting anywhere near drunk, because all I wanted was really good sleep, and that was never going to happen if I drank too much. But then the bartender pulled out some sort of mystery liquor for one of the waiters and I had to try it. It was called Licór de Hierbas (herb liquor) and smelled TERRIBLE. You're supposed to drink it after dinner for digestion, and it's like 60 proof. So I ordered a chupito (shot) and was of course egged on by the group I went out with.

Everyone smelled it and grimaced, as did I. But I took it. And it was surprisingly good. It had a sweet, earthy taste and it made my tongue numb and my insides warm. And I am positive it aided in my digestion. I stayed a little longer, but didn't drink more, then Adam and I headed back to the Collegio because I was practically falling asleep on the bar. We made it to almost 2A and when I got back I got on the computer and didn't fall asleep until 4A.

At 9A someone stopped by and knocked to see if we were going to breakfast. I woke up but was intent on going back to sleep but I just couldn't, so I trekked down to the menjador for a breakfast of pastries, fruit, juice and milk and coffee, and ham and cheese. It was satisfying but not particularly noteworthy.

After breakfast some people headed to the beach, but I was feeling so sleepy and didn't know how I would fare sitting out in the sun for a long time, so I decided to stay back and read/nap/watch TV. After a couple hours of lounging I decided that I was hungry and should see outside at least once today. I was thinking I would stroll around, check out some shopping, get to know the area a little. I forgot something important. Everything, and I repeat EVERYTHING is closed on Sunday (they call it Fiesta). Particularly in this neighborhood, where there are very few neighborhoods.

I managed to find a restaurant, Pans y Company, where I had a sandwich and fries and Fanta Naranja. The sandwich was definitely the best thing I've had here so far. It was fresh baguette with garlicky mayonnaise, grilled zucchini, caramelized onions, bacon, and sausage. SO TASTY. And I got to eat afuera (outside) on a beautiful day. It was a lovely lunch.

After lunch I hiked back to the collegio, since nothing was open and no one was out. That's another thing, there were hardly any people around. Which makes me wonder what Spanish people do on Sundays. Laundry? Nap? Eat? All of the above? I could speculate for days but I'll try and make some Spanish friends and figure it out instead.

After lunch I read, and then managed a really nice 2 hour nap. At 5P we had an orientation meeting and took a placement exam. I was still hazy from my nap and probably did not do very well. It's just a placement test. They explained some things to us, and gave us some stuff to help us get around the city and navigate the program, which was nice.

After that, I watched the Project Runway season premier, because I figured out how to watch American TV abroad. Now, before everyone gets all huffy about doing American things and such while I'm abroad, I should tell you how I feel about it. I'm American, that I cannot change. And there will be some things that I say and do and are interested in that I blame on my identity as an American. And oh boy, do I love television. However, I definitely think that I should try as much as I can as often as I can and if I have a choice between doing something American or hanging out with Americans versus doing something Spanish or hanging out with Spaniards, I choose the latter. So don't worry, I will gladly abandon American culture if it means learning and experiencing things about the country I'm in.

Back to Project Runway. I can't tell whose going to win, I wasn't particularly impressed with anyone, and I wish they kept that girl on for the drama. Because you know she was going to do crazy shit every single time. We'll see what unfolds.

Tomorrow is the first day of classes, which I will explain more about tomorrow, since this has gotten quite long even though my day was mostly uneventful. Classes are for 5 hours and then I'll probably go to the beach or to buy a few things I need. Not ready for a cell phone yet, need a resident card, but you can add me on Skype if you want to chat (username: scotti.wingfield). Until tomorrow!

Bienvenido a España

It is currently 6:27P and I am finally in Barcelona after a rather long journey. Yay! I am sitting in the dorm, Collegi Major Sant Jordi, eating campesina chips and considering going to sleep for the next two days. But, I will not. Because then I will never get over the jet lag. And I just want to feel normal eventually.

So I left yesterday morning from Houston, with approximately 113 tons of stuff in 2 suitcases which I checked, one carry on which I lugged around the airport with me, and one very full purse. Shout out to my mom for fitting it all in my luggage. The flight from Houston to Chicago was uneventful. Once in Chicago, I had the opportunity to see the entire airport since I had to trek from one side to another to connect with my other flight. I stopped and had my last American meal, a cheeseburger and onion rings (so tasty), and arrived at my gate. I was a little panicked because I hadn't checked in to my flight from Chicago to Barcelona but it wasn't really a problem and I didn't have any trouble getting a seat that was not in the middle, which last overseas flight caused some motion sickness.

I sat around the airport for awhile, chatting with the people from my group, comparing what and how much we brought with us, and we finally boarded the place. Goodbye America, hello Europe. Only after 8 hours on one airplane.

The flight left Chicago at 4:40P and was set to arrive in Madrid at 7:40A (8 hours later). I think we left a little late, but my concept of time is completely disabled so who even knows. The inflight movies were crap, I didn't watch anything they offered, and read a book instead. I sat next to a lovely French couple. The man cradled his wife while she slept (which was so sweet), offered me everything he wasn't going to eat, and spoke to me in French like I'm fluent (even though most of his talking at me resulted in my nodding and laughing nervously). I know two words in French: merci and merde. Fortunately I was able to use both of them. The food was pretty close to terrible. Dinner was beef with some sauce, rice, snap peas, the hardest roll I have ever put in my mouth, a cold shrimp salad with a mayonnaise sauce served with a tomato wedge, 1 olive, and a decorative piece of lettuce. There was also processed gruyere product, a mini Twix, and some sort of desserty cake thing that I couldn't finish because it was that bad. I washed it down with red wine, which was luckily abundant, although since I'm older and wiser I managed to keep myself under control and not drink too much. The actual flying part was wonderful; very little turbulence, went by faster than I expected, and I even napped a little. I did pop a dramamine, mostly because I was bored, and I was really disappointed that I didn't slip into a drug induced coma like I did last time I took it. I'll just have to take more next time. Breakfast was a croissant with ham and cheese (I took the ham and cheese off because it was definitely Spam ham), a blueberry muffin, 2 grapes mixed with some melon, and a KitKat. Shortly after breakfast we landed and it was so nice to not be sharing the same airspace with 60 strangers anymore.

When we got to Madrid, it took us a solid 45 minutes to go from one gate to the connection because the airport in Madrid is surprisingly massive. We cleared passport control, and another round of security checks. At the security check, the guy was being mean and made only the Americans take off their shoes, even though I was wearing flip-flops as were a few other people. But I lived through it and my feet didn't fall off. We got to the gate and pretty much boarded right away. I proceeded to involuntarily pass out on the airplane (my body thought it was 2A) and wake up as we were landing.

Finally in Barcelona! I collected my luggage, which arrived in near perfect condition with everything that I put in there, met up with JOHN C. WILCOX (who giggled and waved at me and helped me with my luggage...hehehe) and took a bus to the Collegio. I am rooming with Amanda for the next 3 weeks. The dorms are really nice, more like a hotel than anything else. They are spacious, and have lots of drawers and shelves to put stuff on and AIR CONDITIONING. They're also clean and modern with easily accessible internet and will provide us with breakfast and dinner AND AIR CONDITIONING. I unpacked some of my stuff, but the AC hadn't quite cooled down the room and I was very tired, so I decided to strip down and pass out. Amanda and I managed solid 2 hour naps. After napping, Amanda and I went to the supermarket because I wanted something to snack on and we both wanted bottled water. Now we're just waiting for dinner, which is at 8:30, and then as a group we're going to a festival that's like a half hour walk from here.

Now I'm going to take a shower and start looking at apartments. Also, I PROMISE my entries will get more interesting.

Getting Ready

As many of you already know, I'm going to Barcelona again. This time, for the entire school year. I'll leave August 21st and return sometime after the beginning of June and before August 21st, 2010. I'll stay in Europe the entire time, hopefully traveling some, learning to speak Spanish fluently, meeting interesting people, gaining culture, and eating all things strange and interesting. Don't get me a wrong, I'm super excited, but it's becoming real now. I'm packing my things, sorting out what I want to take, and worst of all, saying goodbye to people. I hate goodbyes, even if it means I'm moving on to a new and exciting part of my life, I'll miss the people that have been a major part of my world for the last three years. But everyone is really supportive of my decision to do this, and if you're not, we're not friends anymore. Even though I'll be abroad for my senior year of college and I won't get to walk at graduation, the decision to go was pretty simple. I mean, spend a year in Champaign or spend a year in Barcelona? And when in my life will I get to live in a foreign city as a student again? Probably never. But the preparation is killing me. I just want to skip the goodbyes and be there already!

Also, I loathe packing. I don't really know anyone who hates it as much as I do. Usually, I just get really drunk and throw what I think I'll need in a suitcase. I'm sure when TSA looks through my stuff they think all kinds of things. One time, I went home for three weeks and only brought three socks with me, not three pairs, three individual socks after a night of drunken packing. But this time, I'm going to pack with forethought and purpose, so I don't forget anything major and end up with the things I need. We'll see how this works out.

And I think Bart knows something is weird. He's extra snuggly and well-bahaved. I don't know if he knows we're going somewhere different or if he can just tell that saying goodbyes make me sad. Either way, I'm going to miss him a lot so I don't mind the extra cuddles and belly scratches when I can get them.

So the plan. My esteemed father will arrive Friday evening and we will spend Saturday cramming all my stuff into a trailer and then romp around Champaign. We will leave at what I can only guess is the crack of dawn on Sunday, drive to somewhere and spend the night, wake up and drive all day Monday and arrive in Houston that evening. I will then spend approximately 1.8 weeks in Houston, visiting with family and friends before I depart for Chicago at 10:25AM on Friday the 21st. Once in Chicago I will make my way over to the international terminal for the group flight where I will depart for Barcelona at 4:40PM with a stopover in Madrid for fun. Now, I'm off to pack and get ready and make lists of things I shouldn't forget to procrastinate getting my stuff packed and ready to go.

Top 10...plus a few.

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!

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!