I think its best to play!
While uploading photos tonight, I decided to check in on what the stars have in store for my life. Unfortunately, while I may have been gone for four weeks -- or is it only 3? -- the month has not changed, so I was left reading March's forecast AGAIN.
For those of you who do not check in with the 'other Miller' regularly, you should:
http://astrologyzone.com/forecasts/
But regardless, it seems like for now I am doing the best thing I could be doing, at least according to the Leo life...
Work -- unrewarding, keep trying... maybe June?
Love -- Venus is retrograde, resume talks after April 25...good to know.
Friendships -- wearing you thin, try again in May.
Travel -- not so good, especially International travel.
It seems its not my time to be anywhere. So I will be here. And if the stars need to recognize that "here" is international -- at least for me -- maybe they will take pity on this nomad and realize I mean no harm. I am simply trying to see a little more of the world so I can possibly learn more about the people in it and possibly more about myself, so that I can offer the people in my life a little more... of me, and the world, and the dreams that traveling abroad brings. Is that really so bad?
Monday, March 30, 2009
Beach-Bummin' It & Life Searchin' It
This morning as I awoke to Miguel and Eline's doberman slamming his body into my door, I knew there was no point in going back to sleep. This has been my morning wake up call since I arrived in Rota. And while annoying, we all laugh that the "men of the house" (albeit both canines) are fighting over me.
I dressed for a run on the beach, and as I was walking out ran into Miguel. I asked if Eline was up yet, and he laughed saying "she has too much fun at the party." What party? Was I there? Seeing my confused expression, he explained what he meant -- the mojito party that the two of us had that lasted until 3:30AM while we watched silly movies and past episodes of Gossip Girl. Such a fun time.
Out on the beach the sun is blinding, the wind a bit blustery, and I got the sense that today was going to be an almost perfect beach day. Maybe a bit windy, but hiding amongst the dunes would allow the perfect sun spot to get lost in thought, books or conversation.
The three of us had already decided to allow our schedule for the day be determined by Fed Ex and a delivery I was expecting, so we may or may not be going to Seville. With the weather being what it was, I kind of hoped Fed Ex would lose it forever and fortunately they did! (at least for another day)
After running, and having coffee, I grabbed my ipod, book and journal -- all important elements for a day at the beach -- plus towel and sunscreen. I found a place in the dunes to keep out the unwanted sand storms and got settled, while I waited on Eline to finish a call with her family in Holland.
As I waited, I listened to tunes and finished my book and wrote a bit. My thoughts were so fluid without the hassles and interruptions of work life -- and always feeling there was something else I should be doing. I had nothing to do, but lay on this bit of sand and soak up as much sun as possible. For now, this truly is the life. And I am loving it.
While I let my mind wander, I had to ask myself why I didn't pursue a life like this. Both Eline and Miguel work from home. Their mortage is minimal. They work 10-15 hours a week and the rest of the time they play, they do what they love, they simply live. They cook. They clean. They watch movies, and read. They enjoy their dogs -- Fairn and Gaucho. They travel to Seville or Japan or Argentina when time and money permit. They visit family. And they live. Simply. Their life is not complicated. There isn't a ton of scheduling and jostling of calendars to make anything fit. The Fed Ex package was delayed, and so was our trip to Seville. No worries. We will go tomorrow. Everything is calm, without a sense of being frazzled.
Life for me has rarely been like that, and I have to wonder is it me not allowing my life to be calm, or is it the place I choose to have my life that allows calmness to elude me. The jury is still out on that one.
But I do know I like this more simple approach to life, without schedules and traffic jams and blackberries and all the things that come to wear you down after awhile, and ultimately the feeling that there is always something else one could or should be doing. Because there are always a zillion other things I could be doing. If I wasn't sitting in this chair blogging, I could be figuring out my plan when I get to Italy, I could be reading, I could be writing postcards from the past 3 cities I have visited, I could be packing, or figuring out how to un-die my once-white pants from their current rosy existence... There will always be something. For saying yes to one thing is saying no to a ton of other things.
And maybe that's the trick to life. Learning what you want to say yes to, what you want to commit to, and then letting the rest just be "filler" that doesn't have to matter. For there will always be a ton of things to "do", but how many really bring a sense of happiness? How many choices do we make only add clutter to our lives and cause us to spin our wheels until we can't see straight?
As the sun is starting to set on this lovely and wonder-filled today, I think I have ultimately found my goal of my nomadic existence. For when its time to emerge from my 'life out of a suitcase' and I have a more established home and no more PO boxes, my goal is to know what I want to say yes to, and commit myself to that purpose -- whether it be a career in New Business, or my PhD or a new path all together. I want to know what that 'thing' is that is going to allow me to be calm and focused, and more aware of the world and the people in it, and more selective about how my time is spent. The thing I care about enough, that incapsulates my interest and I feel I am adding to it.
All my life I have felt I could do anything. My career path shows that -- new business, pr, corporate comm., acct management, human resourses, etc. And in many ways those are just jobs. Things I do to pay the rent and afford my life. But what is the one thing I am so passionate about, the one thing I love doing, the one thing I want to make time for and contribute to... the one thing I want to do, because I add to it just like it adds to me.
A wise woman once told me to only commit to those things that support you. And I truly feel that for a while I have been supporting alot, but not getting a ton back in return... I think I need to give that some additional thought and see where those thoughts lead. Something tells me I am on the brink of discovery... and who knows where I will emerge.
I dressed for a run on the beach, and as I was walking out ran into Miguel. I asked if Eline was up yet, and he laughed saying "she has too much fun at the party." What party? Was I there? Seeing my confused expression, he explained what he meant -- the mojito party that the two of us had that lasted until 3:30AM while we watched silly movies and past episodes of Gossip Girl. Such a fun time.
Out on the beach the sun is blinding, the wind a bit blustery, and I got the sense that today was going to be an almost perfect beach day. Maybe a bit windy, but hiding amongst the dunes would allow the perfect sun spot to get lost in thought, books or conversation.
The three of us had already decided to allow our schedule for the day be determined by Fed Ex and a delivery I was expecting, so we may or may not be going to Seville. With the weather being what it was, I kind of hoped Fed Ex would lose it forever and fortunately they did! (at least for another day)
After running, and having coffee, I grabbed my ipod, book and journal -- all important elements for a day at the beach -- plus towel and sunscreen. I found a place in the dunes to keep out the unwanted sand storms and got settled, while I waited on Eline to finish a call with her family in Holland.
As I waited, I listened to tunes and finished my book and wrote a bit. My thoughts were so fluid without the hassles and interruptions of work life -- and always feeling there was something else I should be doing. I had nothing to do, but lay on this bit of sand and soak up as much sun as possible. For now, this truly is the life. And I am loving it.
While I let my mind wander, I had to ask myself why I didn't pursue a life like this. Both Eline and Miguel work from home. Their mortage is minimal. They work 10-15 hours a week and the rest of the time they play, they do what they love, they simply live. They cook. They clean. They watch movies, and read. They enjoy their dogs -- Fairn and Gaucho. They travel to Seville or Japan or Argentina when time and money permit. They visit family. And they live. Simply. Their life is not complicated. There isn't a ton of scheduling and jostling of calendars to make anything fit. The Fed Ex package was delayed, and so was our trip to Seville. No worries. We will go tomorrow. Everything is calm, without a sense of being frazzled.
Life for me has rarely been like that, and I have to wonder is it me not allowing my life to be calm, or is it the place I choose to have my life that allows calmness to elude me. The jury is still out on that one.
But I do know I like this more simple approach to life, without schedules and traffic jams and blackberries and all the things that come to wear you down after awhile, and ultimately the feeling that there is always something else one could or should be doing. Because there are always a zillion other things I could be doing. If I wasn't sitting in this chair blogging, I could be figuring out my plan when I get to Italy, I could be reading, I could be writing postcards from the past 3 cities I have visited, I could be packing, or figuring out how to un-die my once-white pants from their current rosy existence... There will always be something. For saying yes to one thing is saying no to a ton of other things.
And maybe that's the trick to life. Learning what you want to say yes to, what you want to commit to, and then letting the rest just be "filler" that doesn't have to matter. For there will always be a ton of things to "do", but how many really bring a sense of happiness? How many choices do we make only add clutter to our lives and cause us to spin our wheels until we can't see straight?
As the sun is starting to set on this lovely and wonder-filled today, I think I have ultimately found my goal of my nomadic existence. For when its time to emerge from my 'life out of a suitcase' and I have a more established home and no more PO boxes, my goal is to know what I want to say yes to, and commit myself to that purpose -- whether it be a career in New Business, or my PhD or a new path all together. I want to know what that 'thing' is that is going to allow me to be calm and focused, and more aware of the world and the people in it, and more selective about how my time is spent. The thing I care about enough, that incapsulates my interest and I feel I am adding to it.
All my life I have felt I could do anything. My career path shows that -- new business, pr, corporate comm., acct management, human resourses, etc. And in many ways those are just jobs. Things I do to pay the rent and afford my life. But what is the one thing I am so passionate about, the one thing I love doing, the one thing I want to make time for and contribute to... the one thing I want to do, because I add to it just like it adds to me.
A wise woman once told me to only commit to those things that support you. And I truly feel that for a while I have been supporting alot, but not getting a ton back in return... I think I need to give that some additional thought and see where those thoughts lead. Something tells me I am on the brink of discovery... and who knows where I will emerge.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Two Tales from the Kitchen
Being in a home-setting has allowed me to be around one of my favorite 'home' areas -- the kitchen. Since the year began, I have not gotten to enjoy much kitchen time due to the fact that my kitchen on W4th always seemed to involve smoke when the stove was lit. So this weekend has been a real treat.
Today, as Eline and I made "nachos" for movie time, we laughed as we realized that this was truly an International experience. There was a Dutch girl and an American girl in a Spanish kitchen making Mexican food and bopping to Arabian music.
Tonight, after Miguel went to sleep, Eline asked me if I wanted a mojito. Sure, why not? It was 12:30AM in Spain and we had nothing early to do tomorrow. So I asked if she needed help. She looked at me and said, "well, I was hoping you knew how to make them". Well, not really, but being the daughter of a home economics teacher and being a connosieur of mojitos, I thought I could come up with something. I mean we had a lemon tree and a mint plant in the back yard all we had to do was muddle. And we did... and it was FABULOUS. Miguel doesn't know what he is missing!
Today, as Eline and I made "nachos" for movie time, we laughed as we realized that this was truly an International experience. There was a Dutch girl and an American girl in a Spanish kitchen making Mexican food and bopping to Arabian music.
Tonight, after Miguel went to sleep, Eline asked me if I wanted a mojito. Sure, why not? It was 12:30AM in Spain and we had nothing early to do tomorrow. So I asked if she needed help. She looked at me and said, "well, I was hoping you knew how to make them". Well, not really, but being the daughter of a home economics teacher and being a connosieur of mojitos, I thought I could come up with something. I mean we had a lemon tree and a mint plant in the back yard all we had to do was muddle. And we did... and it was FABULOUS. Miguel doesn't know what he is missing!
Girl Time!
Since arriving in Seville, and later Rota, to spend time with a friend through a friend in Holland, a missing component of my trip has been found. GIRL TIME! I miss my girlfriends in NYC tremendously. I miss the day to day chatter and silly emails and random texts and getting drinks and sharing life. I keep in touch, but its "in touch" and not "here", but spending time with Eline I felt I get a piece of that.
Since arriving here, we have embarked on a few of my favorite things...
1) Grocery shopping
2) Rioja -- seriously, with her boyfriend we have put down 6 bottles.
3) Cheese and apples -- yummy!
4) Sun bathing (even though a sand storm sent us running for shade)
5) Wine at sunset
6) Cooking
7) Creating a new recipe
8) Movies
9) Gossip Girl!
Since arriving here, we have embarked on a few of my favorite things...
1) Grocery shopping
2) Rioja -- seriously, with her boyfriend we have put down 6 bottles.
3) Cheese and apples -- yummy!
4) Sun bathing (even though a sand storm sent us running for shade)
5) Wine at sunset
6) Cooking
7) Creating a new recipe
8) Movies
9) Gossip Girl!
Always on the Move.
I have been told by many – not just in my travels, but all my life – that I have an eternally restless spirit. I don’t think I truly understood what they meant until this moment, on this train, bound for Seville.
Watching the serene landscape passby, I feel so at peace with myself and my life. There may be answers I don’t know, and I am okay with that. I don’t have a new “5-year plan” yet, and I am okay with that too. I know where I will be for the next 10 days and that is enough for now. Situations I left in New York, will sort themselves out in time. And I will sort myself out in the next seven weeks and the weeks that follow.
Moving, going places, being in transit, these are all phases of life I am 159% comfortable with. I feel “at home” in temporary situations. I like knowing that a situation has an expiration date. I like not knowing the final outcome. I like figuring things out as I move about, creating mini-plans for a 2 or 3 day stop. I like living life in chapters vs. the never-ending story. I like nomadding my way through life. I am not good at being settled.
But in allowing myself this time to truly let my restless side “go out to play”, the one thing I told her was “you better be settled by the end of the year.” And for someone like me that is like saying “I am going to super-glue your feet to the ground”. Who signs up for that?
As a result, I find myself wanting to bend my own rules. I said “settled” but I didn’t say for how long… If I know where I want to go, and I am not exactly there by the end of the year, does that count? The list of mental games I play with myself can be so daunting.
I do feel that these feelings of needing to keep searching are truly a result of not having found my latitude in life yet. I love being from Georgia, but I don’t want to live there. I love New York, but it too leaves a lot to be desired .I love Paris but the French make it mostly unbearable. I have thought countlessly of moving to the beach in Jacksonville, but I am not ready to buy that ticket just yet either.
Maybe all of these places are very similar to all the men who have wondered into my life. There have been some close calls – some a little too close if you ask me – but ultimately not one of them did I want to write more than a chapter with. The never-ending story just wasn’t going to happen with them, and not in any place I found them either. I always need more.
As long as I need more I have to keep moving. From station to station, port to port, heart to heart, until I find what I am looking for… Life is too magnificent to settle for half-way, or almost.
I may always be moving. I may always have a PO box instead of a mailbox. I may always have a storage unit instead of a proper home. I may always have a right-hand diamond instead of a wedding band. But “settling” is not an option. Never was, and truly, never will be.
Watching the serene landscape passby, I feel so at peace with myself and my life. There may be answers I don’t know, and I am okay with that. I don’t have a new “5-year plan” yet, and I am okay with that too. I know where I will be for the next 10 days and that is enough for now. Situations I left in New York, will sort themselves out in time. And I will sort myself out in the next seven weeks and the weeks that follow.
Moving, going places, being in transit, these are all phases of life I am 159% comfortable with. I feel “at home” in temporary situations. I like knowing that a situation has an expiration date. I like not knowing the final outcome. I like figuring things out as I move about, creating mini-plans for a 2 or 3 day stop. I like living life in chapters vs. the never-ending story. I like nomadding my way through life. I am not good at being settled.
But in allowing myself this time to truly let my restless side “go out to play”, the one thing I told her was “you better be settled by the end of the year.” And for someone like me that is like saying “I am going to super-glue your feet to the ground”. Who signs up for that?
As a result, I find myself wanting to bend my own rules. I said “settled” but I didn’t say for how long… If I know where I want to go, and I am not exactly there by the end of the year, does that count? The list of mental games I play with myself can be so daunting.
I do feel that these feelings of needing to keep searching are truly a result of not having found my latitude in life yet. I love being from Georgia, but I don’t want to live there. I love New York, but it too leaves a lot to be desired .I love Paris but the French make it mostly unbearable. I have thought countlessly of moving to the beach in Jacksonville, but I am not ready to buy that ticket just yet either.
Maybe all of these places are very similar to all the men who have wondered into my life. There have been some close calls – some a little too close if you ask me – but ultimately not one of them did I want to write more than a chapter with. The never-ending story just wasn’t going to happen with them, and not in any place I found them either. I always need more.
As long as I need more I have to keep moving. From station to station, port to port, heart to heart, until I find what I am looking for… Life is too magnificent to settle for half-way, or almost.
I may always be moving. I may always have a PO box instead of a mailbox. I may always have a storage unit instead of a proper home. I may always have a right-hand diamond instead of a wedding band. But “settling” is not an option. Never was, and truly, never will be.
A Two-Night Stand
Granada is one of those cities with the capacity to break one’s heart. I know because as I left this morning – in quite a frantic state – I felt a part of me being torn away as the train left the station.
Its steadfast in its ways, welcoming in its demeanor, demanding you get to know “it” because it is not changing for you. Its views are awe inspiring, its afternoons and “tea time” the most relaxing of your life, its vibrant spirit sweeps you away and takes a piece of your heart. At least that has been my experience.
When I first embarked on its cobbled streets (often with no name, or at least not one that corresponds with the map), I had no clue what I was doing there other than to see the Alhambre, and that my step-brother, Andrew, had said it was amazing – a “must do”.
The first afternoon was full of getting lost and finding my way, realizing it didn’t matter the street name, if it was headed up the mountain it would take me to where I wanted to go--the same with going down. All streets and roads all lead to the same place, and in a city like this, you can never be truly lost for long.
Sitting in the Abyzine yesterday, watching the sunset while locals played drums and chanted, drinking tinto de verrano (red wine of summer) with new friends and watching the most amazing sunset. It was truly one of the best moments of my trip, and something I will remember for quite some time. It wasn’t about the people, or the place, but the way I felt that made that moment and that evening so spectacular.
There is something about small towns that evoke a stronger spirit than these big metropolis areas. Madrid and Barcelona with both wonderful, and while they have a character of their own, it was difficult to separate out the various experiences in each place. For example, did I see that on the Gran Via or Las Ramblas? Did I have the Serrano and fig dish in Chueca or Barcenoleta? The experiences there run together, into a mishmash that is basically “big city Spain”. But the moments spent wandering the seaside of San Sebastian, gorging on a meal for a king in Donibane, becoming irked at the ways of Bilbao, and going back in time in Toledo were all true experiences that are held by that city, and that city alone.
Visiting the Alhambre with its amazing architecture, seeing the city from far away and meeting locals who had never left Granada and never would, helped define this place for me, and I realize there are few places like this. It is like a river, bending in time, going nowhere quickly, and has the capacity to soothe one’s soul, even if one had no clue they were in need of soothing.
Granada, for me, is one of those places that you would learn Spanish for, just to come back and converse solidly with its people. Their eyes are intoxicating, and I am sure their stories are equally so.
Fourty-eight hours was all I gave this little place, but I know I will be back, and with a much better vocabulary. Sometimes a single breath is all you need to fall in love, and this tiny place truly took my breath away.
Moving in Time to the Stars
As the sun has now moved into Aries, and a new astrological year has begun, I am feeling the need to restart a few things in my own life. And I am truly ready to do so.
While I am on the road, and living out of a suitcase, my life often feels very much in transit. And it is. But I think thats what I bargained for when I asked those I love most to allow me to be a nomad in 2009. (truly, be careful what you wish for...)
Each day that passes, I think of those I care about in both the North and South. I miss them all dearly. I believe my family understands, minus the youngest member, Mr. Ramsey. And that I hate most, as there are so many things of his life right now that I am missing, and I do hope he doesn't forget who is Aunt Paige is.
My friends in NYC, both new and old, there have been days I wish I could "pop over" for an afternoon of good conversation and laughter before resuming my journey on this side of the pond. Europe is a very different place, and every weekend morning I wish I was reading the paper or enjoying "storytime" at Vbar...with some REAL coffee, and not the double espresso I have adopted since being here. Its tough, as I am doing exactly what I want to be doing. And in doing so, I know I am missing out on being a part of lives that I so want to share in. I guess you really can't have it both ways.
I don't want to lose touch as I take this time for myself. But in taking time for myself, I need to make sure that "myself" gets what she needs out of this time. And so I must do what I need to do...to ensure that when I get back to the good ole USofA, I am ready to be apart of things again and not always have one foot out the door --that's what got me here in the first place, and I have never believed in repeats.
So as I delve into new beginnings with Aries, and the "bullish" days of Taurus that are sure to come my way, a part of me is looking forward to the day when the sun moves into Gemini, the sign of friendship and conversation, and I can't wait to relish in both... on that side of the pond. Until then, I best be packing, I have an early train to catch manana.
While I am on the road, and living out of a suitcase, my life often feels very much in transit. And it is. But I think thats what I bargained for when I asked those I love most to allow me to be a nomad in 2009. (truly, be careful what you wish for...)
Each day that passes, I think of those I care about in both the North and South. I miss them all dearly. I believe my family understands, minus the youngest member, Mr. Ramsey. And that I hate most, as there are so many things of his life right now that I am missing, and I do hope he doesn't forget who is Aunt Paige is.
My friends in NYC, both new and old, there have been days I wish I could "pop over" for an afternoon of good conversation and laughter before resuming my journey on this side of the pond. Europe is a very different place, and every weekend morning I wish I was reading the paper or enjoying "storytime" at Vbar...with some REAL coffee, and not the double espresso I have adopted since being here. Its tough, as I am doing exactly what I want to be doing. And in doing so, I know I am missing out on being a part of lives that I so want to share in. I guess you really can't have it both ways.
I don't want to lose touch as I take this time for myself. But in taking time for myself, I need to make sure that "myself" gets what she needs out of this time. And so I must do what I need to do...to ensure that when I get back to the good ole USofA, I am ready to be apart of things again and not always have one foot out the door --that's what got me here in the first place, and I have never believed in repeats.
So as I delve into new beginnings with Aries, and the "bullish" days of Taurus that are sure to come my way, a part of me is looking forward to the day when the sun moves into Gemini, the sign of friendship and conversation, and I can't wait to relish in both... on that side of the pond. Until then, I best be packing, I have an early train to catch manana.
Synchronicity
As I travel about, it seems more and more all I have to do is think of something and I suddenly have answer. And if I don't have an answer, someone in a soon-to-be conversation is wanting to discuss whatever it is I am thinking about. I have always believed this is the way the world worked, and out here on my own I am feeling much more in sync with the universe. Here are a few easy examples...
1) When I arrived in Granada, I was really wanting to see a Flamenco show. When I checked into my tiny little room (the cutest thing ever!) they tell me about a Flamenco show that night, and a bus will pick me up and drop me off. Sounded a bit of a tourist trap but hey, if I could see Flamenco and meet new people, why not?
2) When I joined said Flamenco group, we took a bus to a restaurant "in a cave" in the far reaches of Granada. I sat a table with a German couple, and really wanted Paella -- but as you know, paella is usually prepared for 2 and when traveling alone you often don't have that "plus one". BUT Peter of the German couple leans over and says "We are having Paella, and would love to order for 3". Why not?
3) Then as the show begins, and my thoughts turn inward, I started thinking about a concert a friend and I always go to on in Cape Cod and tickets had just gone on sale. Peter (again) leans over (as it has already been established that I am from NYC and he spent time in Cuba, NY) and asks if I had ever been to Cape Cod. (seriously?... I was just thinking of Cape Cod myself!) He asks because he said they had "the best mini-lobsters"... (I think he meant crawfish).
4) Today as I wandered through the Alhambre, I found myself wishing I were meeting more girlfriends on my trip. Everyone I meet is a guy... every contact point is a guy... dadadaaad... Don't get me wrong, I like guys, but I am not one and I would like to hang out with my own sex from time to time... I even put off calling a contact in Granada as I wanted girltime. What happened today? Low and behold, when seeking a spot to watch the sunset on the Alhambre (as recommended by Bill Clinton) I meet two girls who work in advertising, and ONE IS FROM NYC! (Girls just wanna have fun... that's all they really want...) YEAH! So thrilled to make a new girl friend... and tomorrow I meet up with Eline in Cadiz. Can't wait!
1) When I arrived in Granada, I was really wanting to see a Flamenco show. When I checked into my tiny little room (the cutest thing ever!) they tell me about a Flamenco show that night, and a bus will pick me up and drop me off. Sounded a bit of a tourist trap but hey, if I could see Flamenco and meet new people, why not?
2) When I joined said Flamenco group, we took a bus to a restaurant "in a cave" in the far reaches of Granada. I sat a table with a German couple, and really wanted Paella -- but as you know, paella is usually prepared for 2 and when traveling alone you often don't have that "plus one". BUT Peter of the German couple leans over and says "We are having Paella, and would love to order for 3". Why not?
3) Then as the show begins, and my thoughts turn inward, I started thinking about a concert a friend and I always go to on in Cape Cod and tickets had just gone on sale. Peter (again) leans over (as it has already been established that I am from NYC and he spent time in Cuba, NY) and asks if I had ever been to Cape Cod. (seriously?... I was just thinking of Cape Cod myself!) He asks because he said they had "the best mini-lobsters"... (I think he meant crawfish).
4) Today as I wandered through the Alhambre, I found myself wishing I were meeting more girlfriends on my trip. Everyone I meet is a guy... every contact point is a guy... dadadaaad... Don't get me wrong, I like guys, but I am not one and I would like to hang out with my own sex from time to time... I even put off calling a contact in Granada as I wanted girltime. What happened today? Low and behold, when seeking a spot to watch the sunset on the Alhambre (as recommended by Bill Clinton) I meet two girls who work in advertising, and ONE IS FROM NYC! (Girls just wanna have fun... that's all they really want...) YEAH! So thrilled to make a new girl friend... and tomorrow I meet up with Eline in Cadiz. Can't wait!
Murphy's Law
I knew there would be a day when Murphy's Law entered into my travels, and today she found me! BAM!
From the mornings start of deleting all the photos I had taken thus far, to getting lost on the way to the Alhambre, and then getting further lost as I got closer, and then getting sunburned while waiting for my timed entry, then my camera battery going caput, and then my blackberry dying just as I was getting the number for my new friend... Argh.
Today was KILLING me. But I seem to have survived, and as I prepare for sleep in a rioja haze, I am thankful for this day and all the things that seemingly went wrong. For they truly are just things. And there have been a TON more of wonderfully terrific things that have gone right.
(and I don't have photos as they have all been deleted -- sadly.)
From the mornings start of deleting all the photos I had taken thus far, to getting lost on the way to the Alhambre, and then getting further lost as I got closer, and then getting sunburned while waiting for my timed entry, then my camera battery going caput, and then my blackberry dying just as I was getting the number for my new friend... Argh.
Today was KILLING me. But I seem to have survived, and as I prepare for sleep in a rioja haze, I am thankful for this day and all the things that seemingly went wrong. For they truly are just things. And there have been a TON more of wonderfully terrific things that have gone right.
(and I don't have photos as they have all been deleted -- sadly.)
Mapmaker, mapmaker, make me a map...
The maps being handed out in these small Spanish towns leave alot to be desired. Yesterday, I had 10 sites I wanted to see around central Granada and marked them all on a map from the inn.
As I made my way around, nothing seemed to come readily or easily. Calle Cadil was never found. So therefore neither was cathedral Sant Nicolas. And the stairs I was supposed to be going down, I was going up. And the guidebook said to beware of gypsies in certain areas but I had no clue if I was in said area. And the terrific views I was supposed to see of the Alhambre were really not that terrific. I could go on and on, but needless to say my little self-guided tour of Granada was NOT going as planned as nothing I hoped to see was actually being seen.
So, to aid my mental struggle for not being the next Amerigo Vespucci I decided to attend a Flamenco show where in the end of the trip you end up in the Abyzine with stunning views of the 15th century building.
The show was entertaining, even if I was the youngest member of the group(by about 15 years) and I met the most adorable German couple with whom I shared a Paella.
Low and behold, at the end of the show I quickly got the self-guided tour I was looking for in the afternoon. Who cares if I only understood 50% of what was being said, I knew what was supposed to happen/have happened at such places.... I just couldn't find them! Sometimes a night with the "oldies but goldies" is worth it, if it means getting your bearings and learning to laugh at yourself.
As I made my way around, nothing seemed to come readily or easily. Calle Cadil was never found. So therefore neither was cathedral Sant Nicolas. And the stairs I was supposed to be going down, I was going up. And the guidebook said to beware of gypsies in certain areas but I had no clue if I was in said area. And the terrific views I was supposed to see of the Alhambre were really not that terrific. I could go on and on, but needless to say my little self-guided tour of Granada was NOT going as planned as nothing I hoped to see was actually being seen.
So, to aid my mental struggle for not being the next Amerigo Vespucci I decided to attend a Flamenco show where in the end of the trip you end up in the Abyzine with stunning views of the 15th century building.
The show was entertaining, even if I was the youngest member of the group(by about 15 years) and I met the most adorable German couple with whom I shared a Paella.
Low and behold, at the end of the show I quickly got the self-guided tour I was looking for in the afternoon. Who cares if I only understood 50% of what was being said, I knew what was supposed to happen/have happened at such places.... I just couldn't find them! Sometimes a night with the "oldies but goldies" is worth it, if it means getting your bearings and learning to laugh at yourself.
Touring Toledo -- to the tune of "Man of La Mancha" NOT "Born in the USA"
Since arriving in Madrid, Javier has been asking me to stay until Tuesday, so that we could drive to one of the small outlying, historical cities around Madrid. I was game, and even let him choose our destination… afterall, he was driving.
(Javi being Javi)So on Tuesday afternoon, he picks me up in Plaza Sant Ana with his two friends – Assuncion (Assun)and Eduardo (Ed). We pile into Javi’s Ford and in an hour we can see the old walled-city of Toledo. We make a stop at Ana Carolina’s house for tapas and beers before touring. Talk about a view! Ana’s porch overlooks Toledo, offering this amazing picturesque window to what was old-town Spain.
(Views of Toledo from Ana's place)
(Views of our lunch table at Ana's place)With a bit of an afternoon buzz, we head for the old city stopping in every church we see, including the giant cathedral in the center of the city. It truly is a work of art, taking 230 years to build, encompassing both Gothic, Baroque and Renaissance style architecture, and three different religions – Christian, Catholic and Jews. It was truly something to see.
Ed acted as my guide, as none of the literature for the cathedral was in English, and while my comprehension of Spanish has improved, deciphering this bit took some extra work.
(Ed giving me an English guided tour)After the church – which took 2 hours – we stopped for sangria and tapas. It cracks me up what is given out for free at these Spanish "happy hours". Its usually what I consider a meal!
(Ed and Ana)After our "snack" we got a moonlight tour of this amazing walled city before getting in the car and driving back to Madrid.
(the Happy American who LOVED Toledo)Simply. Wonderful.
Ode to My Mother
From my mother, I have learned many things. Having high-expectations of myself is one, having high-expectations of others is another, having high-expectations of men is something in a whole other ballpark.
I do think she taught me well, as when I am operating by her/my standards there is very little bullshit involved. It either is or it isn't and we go from there.
My mom is one tough-cookie, and through her own situations in her life she has made herself what she is... super-strong, passionate, and multi-talented, not to mention an excellent mother and awesome grandmother. I love hearing stories about her growing up. How she broke in her own pony (Apache), how she would make money from the neighborhood kids by charging two coke bottles to ride Apache. How she caught a field on fire and then tried to put it tried to put out with a mason-jar of water. How she was a tomboy turned Homecoming Queen, who made all of her own clothes including her wedding dress... and many years later earned a black-belt in karate.
My mom is amazing. I don't think there is anything that if she wanted to learn how to do, she couldn't. I can only hope that I can leave the impression she has on me, on my own sons/daughters... God knows if I don't, Nama Deb will! =o)
But getting back to the point of this...In my time as her daughter, there have been many things that she has taught me that most men -- and people in general-- don't know how to do. As she would say "that's just unacceptable"... and I tend to agree. So, since I am in a list making mode, here are the things my mother has taught me that everyone should know how to do:
1) Drive a stick-shift ( ie 5 or 6 speed).
2) Ask for directions.
3) Iron.
4) Be willing to take the time to teach someone how to do something new.
5) Make a 3 or 4 course meal with fresh ingredients -- preferably from the back yard.
6) Bait a fishing hook.
7) Know which plants are poison ivy and stay away.
8) Build a fire -- both in and out of doors.
9) Manage a budget.
10) Arrive on time, and call if you are running late.
11) Give thoughtful and meaningful gifts.
12) Be creative.
13) Dare to wander out on a limb... that is where the fruit is.
14) Plan a party for 30 and have it go off without a hitch.
15) Know the value of your own time, and be selective when spending it.
16) Take care of someone else.
17) Be considerate/chivalrous.
18) Wash a car... and wax it.
19) Plant a plant and have it last longer than a year.
20) Sand and refinish furniture.
21) Don't be afraid to tell someone your expectations of them, but in doing so, don't lower your expectations of yourself and your own life.
22) Live life outside of the box. Or in it... but own your decisions and be happy.
23) Never be too old to climb a tree, swing or jump on a trampoline.
24) Believe that you can have any and everything you want... thinking/believing truly does make it so.
25) Don't forget to say thank you, especially when you are thankful for having someone in your life.
Mom, I am so thankful I am your daughter. And since its Mother's Day weekend in Spain, I figure why not celebrate in America too? Here's to you!
I do think she taught me well, as when I am operating by her/my standards there is very little bullshit involved. It either is or it isn't and we go from there.
My mom is one tough-cookie, and through her own situations in her life she has made herself what she is... super-strong, passionate, and multi-talented, not to mention an excellent mother and awesome grandmother. I love hearing stories about her growing up. How she broke in her own pony (Apache), how she would make money from the neighborhood kids by charging two coke bottles to ride Apache. How she caught a field on fire and then tried to put it tried to put out with a mason-jar of water. How she was a tomboy turned Homecoming Queen, who made all of her own clothes including her wedding dress... and many years later earned a black-belt in karate.
My mom is amazing. I don't think there is anything that if she wanted to learn how to do, she couldn't. I can only hope that I can leave the impression she has on me, on my own sons/daughters... God knows if I don't, Nama Deb will! =o)
But getting back to the point of this...In my time as her daughter, there have been many things that she has taught me that most men -- and people in general-- don't know how to do. As she would say "that's just unacceptable"... and I tend to agree. So, since I am in a list making mode, here are the things my mother has taught me that everyone should know how to do:
1) Drive a stick-shift ( ie 5 or 6 speed).
2) Ask for directions.
3) Iron.
4) Be willing to take the time to teach someone how to do something new.
5) Make a 3 or 4 course meal with fresh ingredients -- preferably from the back yard.
6) Bait a fishing hook.
7) Know which plants are poison ivy and stay away.
8) Build a fire -- both in and out of doors.
9) Manage a budget.
10) Arrive on time, and call if you are running late.
11) Give thoughtful and meaningful gifts.
12) Be creative.
13) Dare to wander out on a limb... that is where the fruit is.
14) Plan a party for 30 and have it go off without a hitch.
15) Know the value of your own time, and be selective when spending it.
16) Take care of someone else.
17) Be considerate/chivalrous.
18) Wash a car... and wax it.
19) Plant a plant and have it last longer than a year.
20) Sand and refinish furniture.
21) Don't be afraid to tell someone your expectations of them, but in doing so, don't lower your expectations of yourself and your own life.
22) Live life outside of the box. Or in it... but own your decisions and be happy.
23) Never be too old to climb a tree, swing or jump on a trampoline.
24) Believe that you can have any and everything you want... thinking/believing truly does make it so.
25) Don't forget to say thank you, especially when you are thankful for having someone in your life.
Mom, I am so thankful I am your daughter. And since its Mother's Day weekend in Spain, I figure why not celebrate in America too? Here's to you!
Absolute Bullshit.
After Sunday's bullfight, I was ready to do one thing. Pack my bags and leave this country that supports such incredible acts fo animal cruelty. I was a bit traumatized to say the least. Spain’s national past-time of bullfighting is the most barbaric and cruel “sport” I have EVER witnessed.Granted I did not do my research when I bought my ticket, but everyone who offered advice on what to see and do in Spain said seeing a bullfight was a must, so I was thrilled when I purchased my ticket on Friday afternoon. The way I was feeling when I walked into Plaza de Toros, you would have thought it was the GA vs. FL game... set in ATHENS! (if only that were possible... GO DAWGS!) But this is only to give you an idea of what I thought I was here to see.
I guess in my mind, I thought it was a fair “fight” of man vs. beast, and the one who out-smarted the other won. Kind of like boxing. Both “fighters” train, they go in the ring with their skills, and one comes out the winner. No one bothered to tell me that in a bull-fight there is NOTHING FAIR about it, AND the bull DIES. And if you stay for the full enjoyment of the afternoon, you can watch SIX BULLS be put to death...for no apparent good purpose.
When I found my seat in Plaza de Toros, it took me a while to figure out how this game was played.
There were the torreros, dressed in funny costumes with pink tights and pink and yellow capes. There was a bull, usually black. There was a man on a horse with a long spear, and the horse was blindfolded and had its ears covered. (this should have been a sign that nothing good was happening in this arena). Then there is the lead torero that has a sword and red cape and an even more colorful costume.
Basically it goes like this: A bull is released into the arena. The “jesters” all run at him with pink capes to excite him, and when he charges they run behind a wooden gate. The bull keeps running and bashes his head, or attempts to stop and just bashes his horns, either way wood chips go flying.
This game of hide-and-seek lasts about 10 minutes. Then the drums start, and the man on the horse comes out. When the bull sees the horse he immediately attempts to make friends, at which point the man with the spear pierces the bulls head, and blood begins to ooze down the bulls back. The bull gets pissed, and usually charges the blindfolded horse, often taking him down along with the man with the spear.
If this happens, the jesters begin running around with their pink capes again to get the bull away. Once the horse is up, the jesters come out with feathered darts that they throw onto the bulls back where the piercing had happened. These darts dig into the bulls skin, so the more he tries to get rid of them, the deeper they penetrate. At this point, there is blood gushing all over the animal and then the torrero comes out to finish him off. He spins the bull in circles with the cape dance – ie., makes him dizzy and ultimately falling on his knees – and then he takes the spear and sticks it ALL THE WAY into its head. The bull then kneels all the way, falls on its side and dies. 
(This is the most well-known Torrero in Madrid. He is on all the posters. One word: MURDERER!)
(those are not feathers... but feather tipped DAGGERS)
THEN if that were not enough, the lead ‘jester’ comes running out with a dagger, and sticks it between the bulls horns and wiggles it back in forth until all movement from the bull ceases. Then the trumpets start, and a chariot of horses enters the arena and then they drag the dead bull out.
I could not believe I had been roped into seeing such non-sense. It was the most brutal treatment of animals I have ever personally witnessed, and I am truly ashamed that I spent 13Euros to see such barbarickness. NEVER AGAIN.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
10 Funny Things
Being in the world for 10 days, stopping in four different cities, and getting used to life out of a suitcase, I have been able to observe myself in a different way than I have at any other point in my life. Most of my days are spent with me, as are most of my nights. In ten days, here are ten quirky things that I have observed about myself:
1) I will talk to myself if I think no one is around.
2) I am kind of afraid of the dark, and will leave the curtain open so the moon can be a "night light".
3) Castles and fortresses appeal to my dreamy side and immediately make the day's agenda. (What do I think I am going to find, a prince?)
4) I can be a bit of an asshole and assume that guidebooks are wrong and are leading me no where... and then ta-da, I end up being right where they say I should.
5) When it comes to lodging I am a bit high maintenance. I need a room on the highest floor possible, facing the street, and far from elevators/staircases.
6) I always think I am "Merlin the Magician" when it comes to packing, and of course everything is going to fit inside my suitcase. I just wave my wand and "abbracadabra!"...Unfortunately at that point, my clothes have not shrunk and my bag has not gotten any bigger.
7) If I don't get enough sleep (ie., more than 4 hours) I turn into a very sensitive and emotional soul and I am bound to find something -- either beautiful or sad -- to get weepy about especially if there is music or a train involved.
8) I dislike routines. There has not been two days that I have gotten up at the same time, gone to bed at the same time, had a meal at the same time or done remotely close to the same thing.
9) I don't have a need for TV. Two of the four places I have stayed have had them and I have not even bothered to turn them on to see if they work.
10) "Life is (always) too short" for money to be an option when its something I really want.
So that's me in 10 days. By the time I make it back to the States, I am going to be such a dork... but a well traveled dork, for sure!
1) I will talk to myself if I think no one is around.
2) I am kind of afraid of the dark, and will leave the curtain open so the moon can be a "night light".
3) Castles and fortresses appeal to my dreamy side and immediately make the day's agenda. (What do I think I am going to find, a prince?)
4) I can be a bit of an asshole and assume that guidebooks are wrong and are leading me no where... and then ta-da, I end up being right where they say I should.
5) When it comes to lodging I am a bit high maintenance. I need a room on the highest floor possible, facing the street, and far from elevators/staircases.
6) I always think I am "Merlin the Magician" when it comes to packing, and of course everything is going to fit inside my suitcase. I just wave my wand and "abbracadabra!"...Unfortunately at that point, my clothes have not shrunk and my bag has not gotten any bigger.
7) If I don't get enough sleep (ie., more than 4 hours) I turn into a very sensitive and emotional soul and I am bound to find something -- either beautiful or sad -- to get weepy about especially if there is music or a train involved.
8) I dislike routines. There has not been two days that I have gotten up at the same time, gone to bed at the same time, had a meal at the same time or done remotely close to the same thing.
9) I don't have a need for TV. Two of the four places I have stayed have had them and I have not even bothered to turn them on to see if they work.
10) "Life is (always) too short" for money to be an option when its something I really want.
So that's me in 10 days. By the time I make it back to the States, I am going to be such a dork... but a well traveled dork, for sure!
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
A tale of Sex, Cigarettes and Champagne.
As I got ready to meet up with Jose on Saturday, I kept asking myself "why are you doing this?" I was exhausted, and the last time I hung out with his guy he practically ate my arm. BUT, he had also cured my asthma, and he is alot of fun when he is not trying to have my body parts for dinner.
So, I put on the one "date dress" I brought from the States and head to the lobby.
This was one of those encounters where I should have just waited in my room, for two reasons:
1) He was late. WHICH I CANNOT STAND, but seems to be in accordance with other Spanish timetables.
2) Jose has no filter. Which for the statement above, resulted in this....
I am awaiting patiently, wondering if I should grab an espresso to get me out of my Saturday funk, and suddenly a piercing whistle splits the air, followed by “My dear, you are totally smashing! Stand up, let me have a look at you. Turn... keep turning...” Oh. My. God. I wanted to die. Given that a reception was going on in the adjacent room, and many of the guests were in the lobby, I was beyond embarrassed. I had yet to sping for an espresso so my mental speed is still lost somewhere under the trees in Retiro. Dear lord. The things I sign myself up for.
Out on the streets, Jose is all over the place. Acting like a torrero when I mention Sunday's bullfight, being a flamenco dancer when I mention seeing a show... This guy is no joke. He was born Spanish, and he knows all the steps to any role I could ask him to play. At this point, the only thing is dinner and him deciding where to go.
Low and behold we end up at a place FOUNDED in 1642. The restaurant has literally been open for over 350 years. That's older than Pete's Tavern... or the United States!
The location was on Cava Braja, the oldest street in Spain. I let Jose do the ordering, as I was in experiential mode and would try anything once. There had yet to be anything I was not loving in Spain, so I am sure this would be more of the same.
As I mentioned in earlier postings, Jose is a Reiki Master. He has mastered all four types – Traditional, Japanese, Tibetan, and Karuna. For those of you, unfamiliar with Reiki (I happen to be quite familiar as my mother used to do reiki treatments), its basically a form of therapy that deals with moving energy around – removing ‘bad energy’ to unblock chakras, channeling good, and overall making ensuring that an individual “flows”. Reiki practitioners “feel” these energy sources and get things going in the right direction.
As I said my mother is a practitioner, and has given me treatments before. She has never tried to do so over dinner. This was not the case with Jose. Throughout our meal of traditional Spanish dishes and Rioja, he kept saying “let me see something…” It was very annoying – although somewhat informative in an odd way. Lots of wine later, and we made our way out onto the crowded street, I couldn’t quite figure out if I had had dinner, or been to the doctor’s office.
When we left Cava Braja in search of a fun after dinner bar, everyone had something on their mind. And when we set down it became clear. I ordered a bottle of champagne (its Spain, so we had Cava) and Jose went looking for "ciggies". When he came back with a box, I could clearly see how this night is going to go. I will drink almost the entire of bottle of Cava (its my fave), and he will have almost the entire box of smokes. With me drinking the bottle, it was going to be a long night.
The conversation that pursued was a bit whacky, as Spanish men seem to want to tell you EVERYTHING about their lives. I learn that not only is Jose a Reiki master, but a sex therapist -- and what a tough job that is. Why men think they need to share the intimate details of EVERYTHING is way beyond me. But it was entertaining... in a strange way. Fortunately he kept it PG-13, or better. I prefer to not make scenes -- or over the top conversations -- in public places -- regardless of the hour, or common language shared.
As he walked me back to my hotel, Jose reminded me of the offer to visit the Canary's. I wasn't too keen and going and staying with him for a week, although he is a fun guy. When he told me I would have my own apt on the coast and he was traveling after his bday for work... well, why not? You only live once and I can always use a vacay... even if in the middle of a vacay!
So, I put on the one "date dress" I brought from the States and head to the lobby.
This was one of those encounters where I should have just waited in my room, for two reasons:
1) He was late. WHICH I CANNOT STAND, but seems to be in accordance with other Spanish timetables.
2) Jose has no filter. Which for the statement above, resulted in this....
I am awaiting patiently, wondering if I should grab an espresso to get me out of my Saturday funk, and suddenly a piercing whistle splits the air, followed by “My dear, you are totally smashing! Stand up, let me have a look at you. Turn... keep turning...” Oh. My. God. I wanted to die. Given that a reception was going on in the adjacent room, and many of the guests were in the lobby, I was beyond embarrassed. I had yet to sping for an espresso so my mental speed is still lost somewhere under the trees in Retiro. Dear lord. The things I sign myself up for.
Out on the streets, Jose is all over the place. Acting like a torrero when I mention Sunday's bullfight, being a flamenco dancer when I mention seeing a show... This guy is no joke. He was born Spanish, and he knows all the steps to any role I could ask him to play. At this point, the only thing is dinner and him deciding where to go.
Low and behold we end up at a place FOUNDED in 1642. The restaurant has literally been open for over 350 years. That's older than Pete's Tavern... or the United States!
The location was on Cava Braja, the oldest street in Spain. I let Jose do the ordering, as I was in experiential mode and would try anything once. There had yet to be anything I was not loving in Spain, so I am sure this would be more of the same.
As I mentioned in earlier postings, Jose is a Reiki Master. He has mastered all four types – Traditional, Japanese, Tibetan, and Karuna. For those of you, unfamiliar with Reiki (I happen to be quite familiar as my mother used to do reiki treatments), its basically a form of therapy that deals with moving energy around – removing ‘bad energy’ to unblock chakras, channeling good, and overall making ensuring that an individual “flows”. Reiki practitioners “feel” these energy sources and get things going in the right direction.
As I said my mother is a practitioner, and has given me treatments before. She has never tried to do so over dinner. This was not the case with Jose. Throughout our meal of traditional Spanish dishes and Rioja, he kept saying “let me see something…” It was very annoying – although somewhat informative in an odd way. Lots of wine later, and we made our way out onto the crowded street, I couldn’t quite figure out if I had had dinner, or been to the doctor’s office.
When we left Cava Braja in search of a fun after dinner bar, everyone had something on their mind. And when we set down it became clear. I ordered a bottle of champagne (its Spain, so we had Cava) and Jose went looking for "ciggies". When he came back with a box, I could clearly see how this night is going to go. I will drink almost the entire of bottle of Cava (its my fave), and he will have almost the entire box of smokes. With me drinking the bottle, it was going to be a long night.
The conversation that pursued was a bit whacky, as Spanish men seem to want to tell you EVERYTHING about their lives. I learn that not only is Jose a Reiki master, but a sex therapist -- and what a tough job that is. Why men think they need to share the intimate details of EVERYTHING is way beyond me. But it was entertaining... in a strange way. Fortunately he kept it PG-13, or better. I prefer to not make scenes -- or over the top conversations -- in public places -- regardless of the hour, or common language shared.
As he walked me back to my hotel, Jose reminded me of the offer to visit the Canary's. I wasn't too keen and going and staying with him for a week, although he is a fun guy. When he told me I would have my own apt on the coast and he was traveling after his bday for work... well, why not? You only live once and I can always use a vacay... even if in the middle of a vacay!
Saturday Slowdown
When I got up on Saturday, I was feeling a little run down. Maybe it was from being out late the night before. Maybe it was just being tired. But whatever it was, I woke up feeling like I needed a siesta and the feeling never quite left as the day progressed. I felt weary and a little somber, and the reason for my feelings I could not begin to tell you.
I went to the Prado, which is huge and quite an undertaking. It truly was torture being inside knowing it was 24 degrees Celcius outside. I got my map, and planned to be very efficient with my time, seeing mainly the masterpieces (there were at least a 100 on the guide), and a few others I had my eye on. Even with trying to be speedy, my visit lasted 3 hours, and then I was really exhausted and in need of a coffee, which I found.
My morning runs had told me the park was nearby, and I went to the pond by the statue of lions and found a place in the sun to spend my afternoon. I had my book, I had my journal, I had a few people to catch up with from home, I had an afternoon plan.
I dozed off for about an hour, read some, talked some, and got a few thoughts down in my journal until Jose called to make plans for that evening. He was in desperate need of some “summerly clothes” he said and wanted to know if I would come with.
At this point the sun was setting – it was nearly 6 –so I agreed to meet him. Also, at this point my phone dies, sending the next 2 hours into a bubble of chaos. Needless to say, I did not make it to said shopping area as I was a bit lost. But I did get to see sunset on the Real Palace and the Theater, plus about 6 brides in the park (seriously, I had flash backs to being in Copenhagen on 7/07/07 and the line of couples waiting to get married in every church I passed during the day). I guess the first Saturday of Spring was primetime in Madrid.
Anyway, I get back to my hotel and get in touch with Jose, who has new clothes and will be at my place in an hour. Tonight was going to be interesting… no doubt about that.
I went to the Prado, which is huge and quite an undertaking. It truly was torture being inside knowing it was 24 degrees Celcius outside. I got my map, and planned to be very efficient with my time, seeing mainly the masterpieces (there were at least a 100 on the guide), and a few others I had my eye on. Even with trying to be speedy, my visit lasted 3 hours, and then I was really exhausted and in need of a coffee, which I found.
My morning runs had told me the park was nearby, and I went to the pond by the statue of lions and found a place in the sun to spend my afternoon. I had my book, I had my journal, I had a few people to catch up with from home, I had an afternoon plan.
I dozed off for about an hour, read some, talked some, and got a few thoughts down in my journal until Jose called to make plans for that evening. He was in desperate need of some “summerly clothes” he said and wanted to know if I would come with.
At this point the sun was setting – it was nearly 6 –so I agreed to meet him. Also, at this point my phone dies, sending the next 2 hours into a bubble of chaos. Needless to say, I did not make it to said shopping area as I was a bit lost. But I did get to see sunset on the Real Palace and the Theater, plus about 6 brides in the park (seriously, I had flash backs to being in Copenhagen on 7/07/07 and the line of couples waiting to get married in every church I passed during the day). I guess the first Saturday of Spring was primetime in Madrid.
Anyway, I get back to my hotel and get in touch with Jose, who has new clothes and will be at my place in an hour. Tonight was going to be interesting… no doubt about that.
Meet Jose
Jose is my friend from Barcelona. Mr. Reiki I have called him. He spotted me on Las Ramblas my second day in the city, and was convinced that we would play a role in each others lives for days and years to come. I think he may be right, although that was not how I initially saw this going. He gave up his corporate job to become a Reiki therapist, and moved to the Canary Islands to be close to volcanoes and paradise. I have always admired people who step out on their own to do what they love. And from conversations with Jose, I am rediscovering what I can offer the world that doesn't hang out under a corporate umbrella.
This guy is OVER THE TOP in his mannerism, but also very serious about his work... a nice junxtaposition that I can be friends with.
He was born on the 2nd (of April) as well, and I tend to be friends with many people who have "2" as a starting date.
After an evening out in Madrid -- how we ended up in the same city again is BEYOND me, we are both nomadding our way around Spain -- I left the night with an invitation to visit the Canary's (islands) anytime I liked and with the promise that I would always have a friend in the world. I promised to help him bring his business to NYC through my contacts in Human Resources. Sounds like a trade-off to me!
Meet Sam
Sam is the second guy I met in Madrid, after Javi. Sam is an MBAer who drives a taxi at night, and my driver from 'Fantasy' to my hotel. He is Parisian, turn Canaria Islander, turned Madrileno while he gets his degree.
He is all about himself, which I don't mind as long as I don't have to spend too much time with him. But, he is also very hospitable in ensuring I knew my may around the cool parts of town.
He is one of those people that I would describe as "gorgeous" but I really don't mean "gorgeous". That is simply my word for someone who spends way too much time trying to look "fabulous". Look at him... its clear he spends way too much time putting that look together.
Meet Javier
As I go places and meet new faces, their names become apart of my every day vocabulary. And I use them that way in my blog, which I am guessing for those who read frequently, may like to know more about these names/faces with whom I am spending time.
So, as we enter Madrid, meet Javier...
Javier, is a friend of my dear friend Sarah. The two met working on Mastercard at McCann-Erickson, she from NYC, he from Madrid. When she was traveling in Spain two years ago, he was her guide. And now he is mine.
Javi uses the word "fuckin" like most people use "like"... ALL THE TIME. Everything is "fuckin' this', "fuckin' that", "fuckin' unbelieveable"...I think you can get the picture. I was raised in the south, and I still get a bit on edge when someone says the "f-word". (I rarely use it, unless I have had WAY too much to drink or am REALLY scared, or TOTALLY pissed off).
When I met Javi he did not have a job, when I last saw him before I left Madrid he had received a job that morning. We laugh that I am his good luck charm... I think I am.=o)
Javi is the one who took me to "Fantasy".
So, as we enter Madrid, meet Javier...
Javier, is a friend of my dear friend Sarah. The two met working on Mastercard at McCann-Erickson, she from NYC, he from Madrid. When she was traveling in Spain two years ago, he was her guide. And now he is mine.
Javi uses the word "fuckin" like most people use "like"... ALL THE TIME. Everything is "fuckin' this', "fuckin' that", "fuckin' unbelieveable"...I think you can get the picture. I was raised in the south, and I still get a bit on edge when someone says the "f-word". (I rarely use it, unless I have had WAY too much to drink or am REALLY scared, or TOTALLY pissed off).
When I met Javi he did not have a job, when I last saw him before I left Madrid he had received a job that morning. We laugh that I am his good luck charm... I think I am.=o)
Javi is the one who took me to "Fantasy".
Marvelous Madrid
I really enjoyed my days in Madrid. In the end, I spent almost an entire week in this terrific city. There was so much to do, to see, and the weather was incredible. Many afternoons I would find myself half-asleep in the giant park – Retiro—trying to read while the sun warmed my face. Absolutely divine. It was this sunny weather that often made being indoors at the Prado, or Reine Sofia seem like a chore…but I would get through it, get my culture-fix for the day, and then go find my place in the sun to daydream or read. My days here were quite lovely.
Knowing people here helped– Javier was my official guide, but reconnecting with Jose, meeting Sam and Matheus, plus several of Javi’s friends really added a dimension to the city and made me feel at ease. I loved spending my mornings and afternoons as I wished, and then meeting up with one of my new friends in the evening for drinks, dinner or both. All good times, and all good stories to share which I will detail shortly.
Cultural highlights of Madrid include the Palace, Thyssen museum, the Prado, and the many cathedrals throughout the city. Retiro Park was my favorite place to get lost in. Plaza Major was perfect for drinks at dusk, and Plaza Sant Ana was my favorite spot for night-time fun. I loved El Rastro Mercado on Sunday morning. I could have done without seeing a bullfight (I am still kind of pissed off I wasn’t clued into what I was going to witness). Dinners on Cava Braja were amazing, as was shoe shopping on Calle Auguste Figeroa.
Madrilenos are a quirky bunch, but I have always been drawn to quirkiness. I loved being a part of their city for almost a week, and I look forward to the day I return.
Knowing people here helped– Javier was my official guide, but reconnecting with Jose, meeting Sam and Matheus, plus several of Javi’s friends really added a dimension to the city and made me feel at ease. I loved spending my mornings and afternoons as I wished, and then meeting up with one of my new friends in the evening for drinks, dinner or both. All good times, and all good stories to share which I will detail shortly.
Cultural highlights of Madrid include the Palace, Thyssen museum, the Prado, and the many cathedrals throughout the city. Retiro Park was my favorite place to get lost in. Plaza Major was perfect for drinks at dusk, and Plaza Sant Ana was my favorite spot for night-time fun. I loved El Rastro Mercado on Sunday morning. I could have done without seeing a bullfight (I am still kind of pissed off I wasn’t clued into what I was going to witness). Dinners on Cava Braja were amazing, as was shoe shopping on Calle Auguste Figeroa.
Madrilenos are a quirky bunch, but I have always been drawn to quirkiness. I loved being a part of their city for almost a week, and I look forward to the day I return.
Monday, March 23, 2009
These Mad Madrilenos!
The more time I spend in a city, the more I get to soak up their culture, nuiances and the parts of the city's daily life that is different from where I have been, and where I will be going.
Once I started exploring Madrid, I began to realize that these people are quirky...more so than anywhere else I have been. I think part of their tendencies can be attributed to the fact that they are Spanish, but the rest is simply Madrileno.
Two days into my Madrid meanderings I thought I would make a "top 10" list of the things I observed as odd, well after 5 full days here the list has expanded to God knows how many. Lets see how many we can count...
#1) "The Birds" at crosswalks. Instead of simply having a flashing green man to tell pedestrians its okay to cross the street, Madrilenos have added sound effects. Its a noise that sounds like a flock (giant flock) of birds in Central Park on Sunday mornings. It took me a bit to get this, and for a while I was the American idiot wondering where the birds were. (Thank God, I was wearing sunglasses so my confusion was a bit contained.)
#2) Museo de Jamon. (Ham Museum) This seems to be the Madrileno name for a large deli. It sound horrid to me, like I want to go in and see ham from 100 years ago... gross!
#3) They are the SLOWEST walkers in the world. No joke. I asked a man at my hotel how long it would take to get to the Prado, which looked VERY close on the map. He told me 20 minutes. 10 minutes later I am standing at the entrance.
#4) Pant suits. I think Hilary Clinton has spent some time in Madrid, and either she picked up her vibrant colored pant suits here or all women in Madrid are mimicking her. Needless to say its not a "souvenir" I spent a second looking for.
#5) Everyone I meet, says they don't speak English. Five seconds later we are having a vivid conversation about NYC and life in general. I wish I could say "I don't speak Spanish" (or French, Italian, etc) and speak as well as they do.
#6) The huge park - Parc de Madrid or Retiro - has hours, and a gate surrounding it to ensure that the hours are met. Don't think you can get up and be in the park prior to 9AM. You will be locked out.
#7) They have assigned seats in movie theaters. So, if you plan to go with your sweetie or someone in general, you have to purchase tickets together. And they give them to you in chronological order. SO, if you buy the first ticket for a showing you are sitting in the far right corner of the theater, and if a show has a decent audience, the first 6-7 rows of the theater are SOLID, and the remaining are empty. So silly. But these guys follow the rules and there is no 'cheating' the system.
#8) Adidas track suits. Didn't these go out of style in the 90s? Not here.
#9) Siestas. Siestas. Siestas. I would love to see our office shut down for a siesta... or even for everyone to go out for a 2 hour lunch...NOT HAPPENIN'.
#10) Women over the age of 45 have SUPER short hair. And its all the same cut. Variety, people! Come on.
#11) Sex Shops. Every city has 'sex shops'. That is what we refer to them as, but RARELY is that what the name of the store. In NYC we have Babes in Toyland, the Birthday Suit, and FantasyLand to name a few. (I used to live on W4th so I was familiar with the location and names). Here they have one name "Sex Shop". Hmmm...wonder what goes on in there?
#12) Assigned seats on trains. I think this is a TERRIFIC idea. I can't tell you how many times I have had to stand on trains to LI, CT or the Hamptons because there were no seats...or at least that I could see.
#13) Simultaneous Subways. This may just be coincidence, but the three times I used the metro yesterday, both trains (one going one way, one the other) entered the station at the EXACT same time. Wow. NYC will never be that organized.
#14) They suppport Bull-fighting. Enough said.
#15) Their Post Office is insane. Its larger then the Thyssen Museum, and much more ornate. It has 10 doors to enter, but only two that actually work. It can be totally empty, and you still have to take a number... and then you have to wait!
#16) Bread with tomatoes. This has been served in EVERY restaurant I have visited. In America we call this "bruschetta" here they call it "free".
#17) Mixed drinks. Ordering a mixed drink (captain and coke or vodka tonic) is like digging yourself out of a ditch. They give you a glass FULL of vodka -- assuming you ordered Vodka -- and then a bottle of whatever you are mixing it with, ie., tonic. You have to drink the vodka down to make room for the tonic. And these glasses are not small. In Spain, if I am drinking mixed drinks, I am the cheapest date EVER.
#18) Ordering drinks in restaurants. I feel sorry for wait staff in Spain. Here, it seems there is a lot of mistrust in ordering drinks in Spain, and a customer needs to see you POUR FROM THE BOTTLE -- whether that be a specific bottle of wine, specific liquor, or whatever. The way it works is like this... Lets say my book club goes out to dinner. Kenzie orders wine. Kelly orders a captain and diet. Julia orders a vodka tonic. Shawna orders white wine. I order champagne. The pour server must bring to the table 5 appropriate glasses. A bottle of red wine, as well as white. A bottle of champagne. A bottle of tonic. A bottle of Captain Morgan. AND THEN a coke and a bottle of tonic. SERIOUS LIFTING goes on here.
#19) 15 minutes is never 15 minutes. I think this is simply a world thing. But when any Madrileno has told me I would see him/her in 15 minutes... I wait, and I wait...
#20) "Clouds" do not exist. Not that I am complaining. But since I have been here I have not seen ONE.
#21) No hour is too early to have a drink or smoke a cigarette. (this probably applies to most cities)
#22) To-go cups. Many breakfast places have signs that say "cafe take-away", however I would not recommend this option. What they mean by this is they will give you a 4 oz. plastic cup, and pour a cafe or espresso into it and you can "take it away". Now, if the cup is plastic and the coffee is hot, does anyone else see the problem with this?
#23) Jelly beans on trains. What? The Spanish train system "Renfe", is quite nice.... once you learn there are assigned seats. During the trip someone will pass through and offer a basket of treats, which I thought were mints. I soon realized that I had three INDIVIDUALLY wrapped orange jelly beans! Variety, people!
#24) "You have beautiful eyes". I swear they teach this in school here. Its on an exam to graduate high school or something as it seems that if someone truly doesn't speak English, they know this one sentence.
#25) "After 8". This is the name for "Mint Chocolate Chip".
Once I started exploring Madrid, I began to realize that these people are quirky...more so than anywhere else I have been. I think part of their tendencies can be attributed to the fact that they are Spanish, but the rest is simply Madrileno.
Two days into my Madrid meanderings I thought I would make a "top 10" list of the things I observed as odd, well after 5 full days here the list has expanded to God knows how many. Lets see how many we can count...
#1) "The Birds" at crosswalks. Instead of simply having a flashing green man to tell pedestrians its okay to cross the street, Madrilenos have added sound effects. Its a noise that sounds like a flock (giant flock) of birds in Central Park on Sunday mornings. It took me a bit to get this, and for a while I was the American idiot wondering where the birds were. (Thank God, I was wearing sunglasses so my confusion was a bit contained.)
#2) Museo de Jamon. (Ham Museum) This seems to be the Madrileno name for a large deli. It sound horrid to me, like I want to go in and see ham from 100 years ago... gross!
#3) They are the SLOWEST walkers in the world. No joke. I asked a man at my hotel how long it would take to get to the Prado, which looked VERY close on the map. He told me 20 minutes. 10 minutes later I am standing at the entrance.
#4) Pant suits. I think Hilary Clinton has spent some time in Madrid, and either she picked up her vibrant colored pant suits here or all women in Madrid are mimicking her. Needless to say its not a "souvenir" I spent a second looking for.
#5) Everyone I meet, says they don't speak English. Five seconds later we are having a vivid conversation about NYC and life in general. I wish I could say "I don't speak Spanish" (or French, Italian, etc) and speak as well as they do.
#6) The huge park - Parc de Madrid or Retiro - has hours, and a gate surrounding it to ensure that the hours are met. Don't think you can get up and be in the park prior to 9AM. You will be locked out.
#7) They have assigned seats in movie theaters. So, if you plan to go with your sweetie or someone in general, you have to purchase tickets together. And they give them to you in chronological order. SO, if you buy the first ticket for a showing you are sitting in the far right corner of the theater, and if a show has a decent audience, the first 6-7 rows of the theater are SOLID, and the remaining are empty. So silly. But these guys follow the rules and there is no 'cheating' the system.
#8) Adidas track suits. Didn't these go out of style in the 90s? Not here.
#9) Siestas. Siestas. Siestas. I would love to see our office shut down for a siesta... or even for everyone to go out for a 2 hour lunch...NOT HAPPENIN'.
#10) Women over the age of 45 have SUPER short hair. And its all the same cut. Variety, people! Come on.
#11) Sex Shops. Every city has 'sex shops'. That is what we refer to them as, but RARELY is that what the name of the store. In NYC we have Babes in Toyland, the Birthday Suit, and FantasyLand to name a few. (I used to live on W4th so I was familiar with the location and names). Here they have one name "Sex Shop". Hmmm...wonder what goes on in there?
#12) Assigned seats on trains. I think this is a TERRIFIC idea. I can't tell you how many times I have had to stand on trains to LI, CT or the Hamptons because there were no seats...or at least that I could see.
#13) Simultaneous Subways. This may just be coincidence, but the three times I used the metro yesterday, both trains (one going one way, one the other) entered the station at the EXACT same time. Wow. NYC will never be that organized.
#14) They suppport Bull-fighting. Enough said.
#15) Their Post Office is insane. Its larger then the Thyssen Museum, and much more ornate. It has 10 doors to enter, but only two that actually work. It can be totally empty, and you still have to take a number... and then you have to wait!
#16) Bread with tomatoes. This has been served in EVERY restaurant I have visited. In America we call this "bruschetta" here they call it "free".
#17) Mixed drinks. Ordering a mixed drink (captain and coke or vodka tonic) is like digging yourself out of a ditch. They give you a glass FULL of vodka -- assuming you ordered Vodka -- and then a bottle of whatever you are mixing it with, ie., tonic. You have to drink the vodka down to make room for the tonic. And these glasses are not small. In Spain, if I am drinking mixed drinks, I am the cheapest date EVER.
#18) Ordering drinks in restaurants. I feel sorry for wait staff in Spain. Here, it seems there is a lot of mistrust in ordering drinks in Spain, and a customer needs to see you POUR FROM THE BOTTLE -- whether that be a specific bottle of wine, specific liquor, or whatever. The way it works is like this... Lets say my book club goes out to dinner. Kenzie orders wine. Kelly orders a captain and diet. Julia orders a vodka tonic. Shawna orders white wine. I order champagne. The pour server must bring to the table 5 appropriate glasses. A bottle of red wine, as well as white. A bottle of champagne. A bottle of tonic. A bottle of Captain Morgan. AND THEN a coke and a bottle of tonic. SERIOUS LIFTING goes on here.
#19) 15 minutes is never 15 minutes. I think this is simply a world thing. But when any Madrileno has told me I would see him/her in 15 minutes... I wait, and I wait...
#20) "Clouds" do not exist. Not that I am complaining. But since I have been here I have not seen ONE.
#21) No hour is too early to have a drink or smoke a cigarette. (this probably applies to most cities)
#22) To-go cups. Many breakfast places have signs that say "cafe take-away", however I would not recommend this option. What they mean by this is they will give you a 4 oz. plastic cup, and pour a cafe or espresso into it and you can "take it away". Now, if the cup is plastic and the coffee is hot, does anyone else see the problem with this?
#23) Jelly beans on trains. What? The Spanish train system "Renfe", is quite nice.... once you learn there are assigned seats. During the trip someone will pass through and offer a basket of treats, which I thought were mints. I soon realized that I had three INDIVIDUALLY wrapped orange jelly beans! Variety, people!
#24) "You have beautiful eyes". I swear they teach this in school here. Its on an exam to graduate high school or something as it seems that if someone truly doesn't speak English, they know this one sentence.
#25) "After 8". This is the name for "Mint Chocolate Chip".
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Updates coming soon...
I realize I have so many stories and events to share from my days in Madrid. I can't believe I have been here almost a week!
I had planned to do some updating this evening but I have been a bit traumatized after attending my first and ONLY bullfight, and needed an escape from reality so tonight I went to the movies. It is Sunday after all, my favorite day to find myself in a theater... even in Spain!
I am in Madrid for a another 36 hours, and then I have a long train ride to Granada so look for updates at the latest Wednesday night.
Buenas noches!
I had planned to do some updating this evening but I have been a bit traumatized after attending my first and ONLY bullfight, and needed an escape from reality so tonight I went to the movies. It is Sunday after all, my favorite day to find myself in a theater... even in Spain!
I am in Madrid for a another 36 hours, and then I have a long train ride to Granada so look for updates at the latest Wednesday night.
Buenas noches!
Friday, March 20, 2009
Pop Quiz
If a man says to you, "Y0u have beautiful eyes" does this mean:
A) Your eyes are so stunning, I can't think of anything else.
B) Your eyes are your best feature.
C) Your eyes are your only feature worth mentioning.
D) That is the only sentence he knows in English.
A) Your eyes are so stunning, I can't think of anything else.
B) Your eyes are your best feature.
C) Your eyes are your only feature worth mentioning.
D) That is the only sentence he knows in English.
Winging It
In my life, wherever it is I wander -- big cities or far off the beaten path -- I meet people. While my beliefs do not allow me to rely on coincidence, or believe that things merely 'happen', I do believe 'life' introduces us to people for a reason. Their purpose may be difficult to understand at first, but I do believe that anytime you meet eyes with someone (keep in mind I am not referring to conversations that take place after 12AM and are alcohol induced) and glimpse a glimmer of their soul (not to be confused with eye-contact) they are meant to play a purpose in your life... obviously some more than others. I do feel that when the focus is on getting to know someone vs. other reasons you may spend time with someone (keeping it PG, friends!) there is more of a true relationship that can develop and that can one day lead to being friends...or playing a role in each other's lives for years to come.
My travels in Spain have have been absolutely beautiful for the situations and people that have come my way -- the boys club in San Sebastian, Mr. Reiki, Pierre, Laura, Sam the Taxi Driver, etc. And while I will say to anyone, "I am truly flying by the seat of my pants"... I know that 'life' has its hand in it some way. My decisions are made purely by me, but I do sense there is an angel -- or many angels -- looking over my shoulder to see that such decisions work out for the best...as I have met many people in extremely odd ways, that are all worth raising an eyebrow.... Sometimes you just have to trust your instincts and roll with it.
Tonight was one of those fun-filled nights that I could not have planned, and truly was relying on the 'God of Randomness' to see that things ended up where they should. (is their a God of Randomness? I think their should be!)
With map in hand and in search of Plaza Sant Ana, I found Frenchie Sam the taxi driver outside this amazing hotel. Totally trendy and gorgeous -- both Sam and the hotel. I had to wonder for a minute what he was doing driving a taxi in Madrid, but I already knew his story.
He is working tonight but wanted to ensure I knew the best streets to in Madrid for drinks, live music, good lounges and overall, places with good vibes. He did not disappoint. Once a brief tour of the area we are into the hotel for a drink, my favorite way of starting the night -- abroad or NYC. The penthouse lounge is amazing, "tres NYC" he kept saying.
(I love how everyone in Europe is all about "NYC"... and here I am roaming their country for a bit!)
The view from above is of the square below, its very quiet and almost tropical feeling with the balmy weather of Madrid and the wind blowing. Very Miami-esque.
Anyway fun times in the Penthouse pursue. Sam is
an 'Aries' (he volunteers this, I did not ask) and truly ALL OVER THE PLACE. Conversation is flying from one topic to the next... he basically tells me his life story, how everyone loves him because he's French and has a crazy accent, that his boss thinks he is amazing....etc. etc. etc. Very lively conversationalist, quite an entertainer, glad he took me under his wing to show me Madrid and be my chauffeur should I need it...however, also secretly glad he is sprinting for his job when the drink is done. People with that kind of energy tend to wear me out, as there is no sense of balance in the conversation. Its all about them, and with them not taking a breath between sentences sometimes its hard for me to do so too. But he said he was an Aries. Definitely spot on. 
I have all of Plaza Sant Ana to enjoy as I may for the rest of the evening. I thought about calling it a night and strolling home, but my heels were killing me. I thought about returning to the hotel as I was craving a Mojito, and I remember seeing that on the menu... And then BAM! Sign says "BEST MOJITOS IN MADRID"... Remember I am the asshole that only believes half of what people say, BUT I bet they are pretty good, so in I bop.
Leave it to me to choose an English speaking bar, but hey, I said I wanted a good conversation tonight so here we go...
I order a mojito (very good choice) and get distracted with news on my blackberry. When I look up a very young someone is trying to say "hello" in every language possible (Hola... hello...What's Up... Que pasa? etc.) I have to smile, which he takes as an intro.
'Matheus' I soon learn is from Brazil, which is a good point for conversation as I loved my time in Brazil (minus that spent in the dental office... but thank god my teeth were not involved!) . He speaks English fairly well... much better than my Spanish skills. He's charming and funny, and has a lot of big questions about life, which I love to see in young people... and older too, but it seems the average inquisitive mind dies at age 27/28... Sad, but seemingly true.
When I run to the loo, I come back to find a rose sitting at 'my table"... whether it should be attributed to the young, or the Spanish, I know not. But I do know it was/is very much appreciated.
Good conversation and a few beers later, I am ready to call it a night. This isn't before making sushi plans for Sunday after the bull-fight... which I am SO excited about on both fronts! (again, sorry my animal loving friends... for the bull-fighting, but sushi is okay, no?)
Sometimes all you need on a Friday night is a starting point, and where the night/road takes you is truly up to you. While tonight started and ended on two totally different vibes, they both made for an interesting mix... and sometimes, mixing it up is what it is all about... at least for me on this Friday, and day marking the start of Spring.
My travels in Spain have have been absolutely beautiful for the situations and people that have come my way -- the boys club in San Sebastian, Mr. Reiki, Pierre, Laura, Sam the Taxi Driver, etc. And while I will say to anyone, "I am truly flying by the seat of my pants"... I know that 'life' has its hand in it some way. My decisions are made purely by me, but I do sense there is an angel -- or many angels -- looking over my shoulder to see that such decisions work out for the best...as I have met many people in extremely odd ways, that are all worth raising an eyebrow.... Sometimes you just have to trust your instincts and roll with it.
Tonight was one of those fun-filled nights that I could not have planned, and truly was relying on the 'God of Randomness' to see that things ended up where they should. (is their a God of Randomness? I think their should be!)
With map in hand and in search of Plaza Sant Ana, I found Frenchie Sam the taxi driver outside this amazing hotel. Totally trendy and gorgeous -- both Sam and the hotel. I had to wonder for a minute what he was doing driving a taxi in Madrid, but I already knew his story.
He is working tonight but wanted to ensure I knew the best streets to in Madrid for drinks, live music, good lounges and overall, places with good vibes. He did not disappoint. Once a brief tour of the area we are into the hotel for a drink, my favorite way of starting the night -- abroad or NYC. The penthouse lounge is amazing, "tres NYC" he kept saying.
(I love how everyone in Europe is all about "NYC"... and here I am roaming their country for a bit!)
The view from above is of the square below, its very quiet and almost tropical feeling with the balmy weather of Madrid and the wind blowing. Very Miami-esque.
Anyway fun times in the Penthouse pursue. Sam is
an 'Aries' (he volunteers this, I did not ask) and truly ALL OVER THE PLACE. Conversation is flying from one topic to the next... he basically tells me his life story, how everyone loves him because he's French and has a crazy accent, that his boss thinks he is amazing....etc. etc. etc. Very lively conversationalist, quite an entertainer, glad he took me under his wing to show me Madrid and be my chauffeur should I need it...however, also secretly glad he is sprinting for his job when the drink is done. People with that kind of energy tend to wear me out, as there is no sense of balance in the conversation. Its all about them, and with them not taking a breath between sentences sometimes its hard for me to do so too. But he said he was an Aries. Definitely spot on. I have all of Plaza Sant Ana to enjoy as I may for the rest of the evening. I thought about calling it a night and strolling home, but my heels were killing me. I thought about returning to the hotel as I was craving a Mojito, and I remember seeing that on the menu... And then BAM! Sign says "BEST MOJITOS IN MADRID"... Remember I am the asshole that only believes half of what people say, BUT I bet they are pretty good, so in I bop.
Leave it to me to choose an English speaking bar, but hey, I said I wanted a good conversation tonight so here we go...
I order a mojito (very good choice) and get distracted with news on my blackberry. When I look up a very young someone is trying to say "hello" in every language possible (Hola... hello...What's Up... Que pasa? etc.) I have to smile, which he takes as an intro.
'Matheus' I soon learn is from Brazil, which is a good point for conversation as I loved my time in Brazil (minus that spent in the dental office... but thank god my teeth were not involved!) . He speaks English fairly well... much better than my Spanish skills. He's charming and funny, and has a lot of big questions about life, which I love to see in young people... and older too, but it seems the average inquisitive mind dies at age 27/28... Sad, but seemingly true.
When I run to the loo, I come back to find a rose sitting at 'my table"... whether it should be attributed to the young, or the Spanish, I know not. But I do know it was/is very much appreciated.
Good conversation and a few beers later, I am ready to call it a night. This isn't before making sushi plans for Sunday after the bull-fight... which I am SO excited about on both fronts! (again, sorry my animal loving friends... for the bull-fighting, but sushi is okay, no?)
Sometimes all you need on a Friday night is a starting point, and where the night/road takes you is truly up to you. While tonight started and ended on two totally different vibes, they both made for an interesting mix... and sometimes, mixing it up is what it is all about... at least for me on this Friday, and day marking the start of Spring.
Back in Business
With Father’s Day behind us, everything reopened on Friday morning, meaning museums and other cultural feats were now an option.
In the morning I tried for 30 minutes to get a ticket for Sunday’s bullfight and got fed up with the online service and went to find someone who could sell me a ticket. I should have taken the trial-and-error experience as a sign that maybe this wasn’t something I wanted to do…but that was not in the cards. And after a trip to Plaza Major and then to the ticket outlet itself, I had my ticket and felt like it was my lucky day. Plus, it was 20Euros less than online. Perfecto.
I was navigating this magnanimous city fairly well. After a long run to the park and back to my room that morning, I had a good sense of where things were, and if I got lost, I had my map.
Wandering through Madrid, I made a few phone calls to those I owed calls to. One being Jose from Barcelona, and low and behold, he just happened to be in Madrid too. Plans were made for Saturday and I was off to see the sites.
I had planned to visit the Thyssen museum and the Reine Sofia that day, and take a break in the afternoon to be lazy in the park.
(My favorite spot in Retiro)
The Thyssen had an incredible exhibit on ‘shadows’ or “la sombra”, which I loved. And the permanent collection was nice too, including several Van Gogh’s, Kandinsky’s, and Picasso’s I had never seen. I spent almost 3 hours inside, and once out in the sun I needed a quiet place to write and perhaps a glass of wine. The Palace Hotel was beckoning me so I found a table, ordered a drink and found the quiet time I needed. The day could not have been more gorgeous.
(interior view of the Palace)
(Tell me, does this remind you of a post-office?)
Now, time for Reine Sofia. This experience was set in an old hospital, and trust me I got the vibe immediately. Instead of visiting patients you visit paintings, drawings and other pieces. It was all poorly organized, no maps or signs of direction, some rooms were numbered, some were not… chaos, my friends, chaos. (Hopefully the hospitals in Spain are more organized than this!)
But even in chaos, you can find intriguing pieces, and I did. There were several Garcia’s, that I have always enjoyed seeing after spending time in Montevideo. There was a ton of Picasso’s work -- much of it really large panels. There were interesting works by Miro, el Greco and Goya, and a special exhibit by a New Yorker whose name escapes me now. I enjoyed my time, but the scattered layout really zapped my energy, and I was off to Plaza Major for a glass of sangria and to watch the tourists.
(Plaza Major)
Plaza Major is always packed in the evenings, and at most times of the day. Mostly tourists, but also artists, musicians and locals come to the large enclosed area to see what is going on inside. I found a table and glass of sangria and did a bit of writing. I guess I was there too long, as I realized I was meeting a friend in an hour and I had NO CLUE how to get to the selected location.
I ran to my hotel, changed quickly and got directions to Plaza Sant Ana. I was told it would take 20 minutes, walking. Yeah, right. These Madrilenos are so slow…
(I made it to the top of the ME hotel in less than 20 minutes...)
In the morning I tried for 30 minutes to get a ticket for Sunday’s bullfight and got fed up with the online service and went to find someone who could sell me a ticket. I should have taken the trial-and-error experience as a sign that maybe this wasn’t something I wanted to do…but that was not in the cards. And after a trip to Plaza Major and then to the ticket outlet itself, I had my ticket and felt like it was my lucky day. Plus, it was 20Euros less than online. Perfecto.
I was navigating this magnanimous city fairly well. After a long run to the park and back to my room that morning, I had a good sense of where things were, and if I got lost, I had my map.
Wandering through Madrid, I made a few phone calls to those I owed calls to. One being Jose from Barcelona, and low and behold, he just happened to be in Madrid too. Plans were made for Saturday and I was off to see the sites.
I had planned to visit the Thyssen museum and the Reine Sofia that day, and take a break in the afternoon to be lazy in the park.
(My favorite spot in Retiro)The Thyssen had an incredible exhibit on ‘shadows’ or “la sombra”, which I loved. And the permanent collection was nice too, including several Van Gogh’s, Kandinsky’s, and Picasso’s I had never seen. I spent almost 3 hours inside, and once out in the sun I needed a quiet place to write and perhaps a glass of wine. The Palace Hotel was beckoning me so I found a table, ordered a drink and found the quiet time I needed. The day could not have been more gorgeous.
(interior view of the Palace)In wandering Calle Recoletos, I stumbled upon the Department of Communicacion, otherwise known as the Post Office. Keep in mind this looks like a smaller version of the Real Palace, where a prince would live, NOT wear you would go to post a letter. But everything in Spain is amazingly beautiful, so why not the post office too? So I wander in... or at least try. Ten doors later, I found one that allowed you to actually go inside. I wander to the one of the 10 empty desks, and I am told to take a ticket. Keep in mind there is NO ONE, literally NO ONE, in the place. So I take my ticket, and have a seat. In two days, I have learned NOTHING moves quickly in Spain. I have to wait 10 minutes before my number flashes on the screen. And slowly I helped with my purchase, and I am now the proud owner of 20 Spanish Stamps! (Postcards are in the mail!)
(Tell me, does this remind you of a post-office?)Now, time for Reine Sofia. This experience was set in an old hospital, and trust me I got the vibe immediately. Instead of visiting patients you visit paintings, drawings and other pieces. It was all poorly organized, no maps or signs of direction, some rooms were numbered, some were not… chaos, my friends, chaos. (Hopefully the hospitals in Spain are more organized than this!)
But even in chaos, you can find intriguing pieces, and I did. There were several Garcia’s, that I have always enjoyed seeing after spending time in Montevideo. There was a ton of Picasso’s work -- much of it really large panels. There were interesting works by Miro, el Greco and Goya, and a special exhibit by a New Yorker whose name escapes me now. I enjoyed my time, but the scattered layout really zapped my energy, and I was off to Plaza Major for a glass of sangria and to watch the tourists.
(Plaza Major)Plaza Major is always packed in the evenings, and at most times of the day. Mostly tourists, but also artists, musicians and locals come to the large enclosed area to see what is going on inside. I found a table and glass of sangria and did a bit of writing. I guess I was there too long, as I realized I was meeting a friend in an hour and I had NO CLUE how to get to the selected location.
I ran to my hotel, changed quickly and got directions to Plaza Sant Ana. I was told it would take 20 minutes, walking. Yeah, right. These Madrilenos are so slow…
(I made it to the top of the ME hotel in less than 20 minutes...)
More Madness from Madrid
Today was an awesome day. It always seems that Fridays are the best with lots of communication and a twist of fate/destiny whichever you believe in.
I will elaborate more on today's activities later, but sticking with the "Madness" theme here is an interesting story.
After getting a ticket for Sunday's bull-fight, (Hey, sorry animal lovers, its a national past-time and I wasn't thinking about it like that... but since I have a ticket...please forgive?) I had a bit of a walk and decided to put in some calls to those I owed calls too.
One being Mr. Reiki from Barcelona. I had hoped to send an email with a quick note 'thanks for curing my asthma' but given that his card had either been tossed or lost, I could not do that. I still had his phone number so that was the option I was left with. I know some would say why bother? But I like to feel I was raised right and when someone does something nice for you, you always say thank you. Regardless how simple. So I could not let this go.
So one ring and I have Reiki on the phone, "My dear, I have missed you! I was going to call you, I want you to join me on Canary Reef..." Whatever, my point was to simply thank him and be off. No such luck.
In telling him why I had not called earlier I mention the word "Madrid". "YOU ARE IN MADRID??!!! My dear, it is our destiny, you will never believe it but I AM IN MADRID! You must let me take you out tonight and show you the town. We will have fabulous fun!" (this guy talks like he is gay... or just Spanish, in English)
First off, this guy is NOT my destiny... my destined tour guide maybe.
Secondly, I have plans tonight.
No deterring this Spaniard, Saturday was better for him anyway, so we are going "out on the town to have FABULOUS FUN!" Definitely look for bouts of hilarity stemming from tomorrow night. I am set for a riot. Not to mention, I would like a night out in Madrid that doesn't involve muscle shirts and Mad Hatters breaking it down to Brittany Spears.
But for now I best get going. I have to find some plaza to meet Frenchie for a drink... or maybe its dinner. They eat so late here!
Hasta luego!
I will elaborate more on today's activities later, but sticking with the "Madness" theme here is an interesting story.
After getting a ticket for Sunday's bull-fight, (Hey, sorry animal lovers, its a national past-time and I wasn't thinking about it like that... but since I have a ticket...please forgive?) I had a bit of a walk and decided to put in some calls to those I owed calls too.
One being Mr. Reiki from Barcelona. I had hoped to send an email with a quick note 'thanks for curing my asthma' but given that his card had either been tossed or lost, I could not do that. I still had his phone number so that was the option I was left with. I know some would say why bother? But I like to feel I was raised right and when someone does something nice for you, you always say thank you. Regardless how simple. So I could not let this go.
So one ring and I have Reiki on the phone, "My dear, I have missed you! I was going to call you, I want you to join me on Canary Reef..." Whatever, my point was to simply thank him and be off. No such luck.
In telling him why I had not called earlier I mention the word "Madrid". "YOU ARE IN MADRID??!!! My dear, it is our destiny, you will never believe it but I AM IN MADRID! You must let me take you out tonight and show you the town. We will have fabulous fun!" (this guy talks like he is gay... or just Spanish, in English)
First off, this guy is NOT my destiny... my destined tour guide maybe.
Secondly, I have plans tonight.
No deterring this Spaniard, Saturday was better for him anyway, so we are going "out on the town to have FABULOUS FUN!" Definitely look for bouts of hilarity stemming from tomorrow night. I am set for a riot. Not to mention, I would like a night out in Madrid that doesn't involve muscle shirts and Mad Hatters breaking it down to Brittany Spears.
But for now I best get going. I have to find some plaza to meet Frenchie for a drink... or maybe its dinner. They eat so late here!
Hasta luego!
Thursday, March 19, 2009
This Little Piggy Went to Market...
So today, after my fantastical evening, I got up and had an easy plan to stroll around Madrid. Its Father's Day here so everything is closed except for restaurants.
While I had my coffee and croissant, I decided since all the museums I wanted to visit were closed I would follow the Madrid "Historical Walking Tour" step-by-step. Literally. I figure I would see most of Madrid's historical venues (so it was slightly academic) and I would try and beat the 2 hour walking time suggested (making it slightly physical). Keep in mind, when traveling I usually make up my own tour/map of city... which usually leads to several retracks and stopping for directions. So my plan for the day was kind of test for future cities.
Anyway, ten minutes into the tour I have found Plaza Sol, the oldest chapel in Madrid, and have found a cafe where the guidebook suggests having the famous churros dipped in chocolate. Why not? Its lunch time, and sometimes you gotta have a little fun at meal time. Dear lord, if only I knew how decadent and intoxicating these things are. Y-u-m-m-y.
On a sugar high, I go running after a few more steeples, plazas, fountains, views and castle. Things are going well. I have the map down, I am in line to finish in less than 20 minutes, making the total time including lunch 1 hour 45. But now the guide suggests having "a proper lunch" at Cafe de Oriente, which is a beautiful plaza, so why not? Its bright and sunny and I could go for a salad and a glass of vino blanco in the sun. So that is what I do, except one glass turns into two, and I don't finish the tour as estimated, but I am enjoying the sunny day, so I keep going (with the tour, not the wine).
More sights, cool things, great statues of Don Quixote, a trip of la via Grande and back to Plaza Major, where the book is suggesting eating AGAIN. Whoever wrote this thing, do you realize NO ONE EATS EVERY 30 MINUTES? And I had skipped two spots they suggested having drinks! Basically if you follow the plan, you spend 7 hours on this tour, 5.5 eating and drinking. Makes you wonder who supported the writing of the book -- Madrid's chamber of commerce or Madrid's Restaurant and Bar association?
All kiddng aside, the tour was ideal, the suggestions for drinks and food were excellent. And while I will not be doing Walking Tour #2 tomorrow, I may revisit the guidebook for suggestions in my other Spanish destinatations. Great way to get oriented...And completely stuffed and slightly tipsy!
For a dinner, I did stick around Plaza Major for moules frites at a Belgian restaurant just off Calle de Julio 7, but this was after a few more hours of wandering aimlessly enjoying the perfect weather.
While I had my coffee and croissant, I decided since all the museums I wanted to visit were closed I would follow the Madrid "Historical Walking Tour" step-by-step. Literally. I figure I would see most of Madrid's historical venues (so it was slightly academic) and I would try and beat the 2 hour walking time suggested (making it slightly physical). Keep in mind, when traveling I usually make up my own tour/map of city... which usually leads to several retracks and stopping for directions. So my plan for the day was kind of test for future cities.
Anyway, ten minutes into the tour I have found Plaza Sol, the oldest chapel in Madrid, and have found a cafe where the guidebook suggests having the famous churros dipped in chocolate. Why not? Its lunch time, and sometimes you gotta have a little fun at meal time. Dear lord, if only I knew how decadent and intoxicating these things are. Y-u-m-m-y.
On a sugar high, I go running after a few more steeples, plazas, fountains, views and castle. Things are going well. I have the map down, I am in line to finish in less than 20 minutes, making the total time including lunch 1 hour 45. But now the guide suggests having "a proper lunch" at Cafe de Oriente, which is a beautiful plaza, so why not? Its bright and sunny and I could go for a salad and a glass of vino blanco in the sun. So that is what I do, except one glass turns into two, and I don't finish the tour as estimated, but I am enjoying the sunny day, so I keep going (with the tour, not the wine).
More sights, cool things, great statues of Don Quixote, a trip of la via Grande and back to Plaza Major, where the book is suggesting eating AGAIN. Whoever wrote this thing, do you realize NO ONE EATS EVERY 30 MINUTES? And I had skipped two spots they suggested having drinks! Basically if you follow the plan, you spend 7 hours on this tour, 5.5 eating and drinking. Makes you wonder who supported the writing of the book -- Madrid's chamber of commerce or Madrid's Restaurant and Bar association?
All kiddng aside, the tour was ideal, the suggestions for drinks and food were excellent. And while I will not be doing Walking Tour #2 tomorrow, I may revisit the guidebook for suggestions in my other Spanish destinatations. Great way to get oriented...And completely stuffed and slightly tipsy!
For a dinner, I did stick around Plaza Major for moules frites at a Belgian restaurant just off Calle de Julio 7, but this was after a few more hours of wandering aimlessly enjoying the perfect weather.
Madrid Madness...Or should I say Fantasy?
Yesterday when I got to Madrid, I took a cab to my hotel checked in and laid down for a 15 minute cat nap. Wrong. Four hours later I woke up...obviously, I was a little more exhausted than I thought! Feeling like I had slept the day away I popped up and bounded out the door, guide book in tow. I texted my Madrid contact -- Javier -- to let him know I am alive and ready to play when he finishes with his interview, and then focused on getting up Calle Toledo to Plaza Major to at least see something. Dusk was setting on Madrid so my timing could not have been more perfect. 
The plaza was bustling with tourists, and the city had a great vibe. I knew/know I am going to enjoy my time here. I have arrangements through Saturday, but that can always be changed -- one of the joys of traveling solo!
Just as I was exiting the Plaza, Javier called telling me he would be at my hotel in 20 minutes. Excellent. I was starving. With my "cat nap" I had missed lunch, and for breakfast I had a coffee on the train and a serrano and manchego sandwich, which is substantial, but not for both breakfast and lunch.
He showed up at Hotel Ganivet looking like the Easter Bunny -- khaki suit, lavender shirt, and flowered tie. Javier is gay, not that one would think any different on first glance, but its good to know this as the night went forth.
So we get into his "teal" car and head to the "trendiest" part of Madrid, also known as the "Chelsea" of Madrid. When we get out of the car, he points out several streets for shopping that I can take in later on my own and head to a restaurant, "Lateral". I let him order for us, as I could eat anything at this point...I was simply ravenous. Salads and small plates later, he leans back for a cigarette and I am still hungry. So more small plates for me, and then la cuenta. And then coffee's at his friends place.
Javier tells me he is going out dancing and asks if I want to come. Sure. I mean what else do I have to do tomorrow? And sleeping all afternoon put me in an ideal position to stay out to all hours. So "Yes", lets go dancing.
We stop at my hotel and I throw on a more dance friendly dress. We go to Javier's mom's house (apparently its common to still live at home at 31 in Spain) and he changes from his Easter Sunday outfit to white muscle shirt, jeans, sneakers and a b-ball cap.
One look at him and I knew I was in for something new tonight. When he mentioned the club was called "Fantasy"... well, I knew it would be someone's fantasy, just maybe not mine. Good lord, as we waited for his friends, I just watched the people in line waiting to get in. There were two types. 1) Men of all ages, with EXTREMELY tight jeans, bulging biceps and shirts to show off their 'guns', chiseled features obviously fresh from a facial 4-5 days ago. 2) women with plastic bodies... and some I am not 100% were women...at least originally.
Needless to say, I was probably the only straight person going in 'Fantasy' tonight. But hey, when in Rome... and I payed my entrance, checked my coat and got my drink of vodka with a bottle of tonic on the side (????).
Inside was more fantastical than the line outside. Now all the muscle shirts were dancing together, very closely.
Now when I go to clubs I do one of two things 1) become a fly on the wall 2) become whatever the flies on the wall are watching.
Tonight was definitely a night for Mode Numero Uno. It was wild. Keep in mind we did not get there until 2AM... it did not open til 12:30AM... and we were not leaving for a while. Well, Javier wasn't. I told him I may head out around 4 or so, after practicing 5,000 times what I would tell the cabbie.
Anyway, Javier had fun dancing. I had fun watching 'everything' dancing... half of the people on the dance floor were not real. I mean, one man was wearing a Mad-hatters outfit! Fun times, I tell ya.
So out on the street, I grab a cab. I must say, the people I meet in these 'incidents' is quite comical and you really can't say its coincidental when it happens so often. So Mr. Cab Driver is named Sam and speaks English fairly well, he is French and conversation piece to conversation piece I quickly learn that he is in Madrid getting his PhD, after walking out of a relationship in Paris, and plans to move to the Canary Islands when he graduates. We commiserate break-up stories... which I am realizing more and more that tons of people call-off engagements, and a few that I have met have called off marriages.
Anyway, Sam seems more normal than Mr. Reiki with the licking fetish, and when he gives me his card, I willingly accept it.
After 10 days of spotty English/Spanish conversations I could go for a good chat.
As long as the suggested venue is not named 'Fantasy', I am game.
The plaza was bustling with tourists, and the city had a great vibe. I knew/know I am going to enjoy my time here. I have arrangements through Saturday, but that can always be changed -- one of the joys of traveling solo!
Just as I was exiting the Plaza, Javier called telling me he would be at my hotel in 20 minutes. Excellent. I was starving. With my "cat nap" I had missed lunch, and for breakfast I had a coffee on the train and a serrano and manchego sandwich, which is substantial, but not for both breakfast and lunch.
He showed up at Hotel Ganivet looking like the Easter Bunny -- khaki suit, lavender shirt, and flowered tie. Javier is gay, not that one would think any different on first glance, but its good to know this as the night went forth.
So we get into his "teal" car and head to the "trendiest" part of Madrid, also known as the "Chelsea" of Madrid. When we get out of the car, he points out several streets for shopping that I can take in later on my own and head to a restaurant, "Lateral". I let him order for us, as I could eat anything at this point...I was simply ravenous. Salads and small plates later, he leans back for a cigarette and I am still hungry. So more small plates for me, and then la cuenta. And then coffee's at his friends place.
Javier tells me he is going out dancing and asks if I want to come. Sure. I mean what else do I have to do tomorrow? And sleeping all afternoon put me in an ideal position to stay out to all hours. So "Yes", lets go dancing.
We stop at my hotel and I throw on a more dance friendly dress. We go to Javier's mom's house (apparently its common to still live at home at 31 in Spain) and he changes from his Easter Sunday outfit to white muscle shirt, jeans, sneakers and a b-ball cap.
One look at him and I knew I was in for something new tonight. When he mentioned the club was called "Fantasy"... well, I knew it would be someone's fantasy, just maybe not mine. Good lord, as we waited for his friends, I just watched the people in line waiting to get in. There were two types. 1) Men of all ages, with EXTREMELY tight jeans, bulging biceps and shirts to show off their 'guns', chiseled features obviously fresh from a facial 4-5 days ago. 2) women with plastic bodies... and some I am not 100% were women...at least originally.
Needless to say, I was probably the only straight person going in 'Fantasy' tonight. But hey, when in Rome... and I payed my entrance, checked my coat and got my drink of vodka with a bottle of tonic on the side (????).
Inside was more fantastical than the line outside. Now all the muscle shirts were dancing together, very closely.
Now when I go to clubs I do one of two things 1) become a fly on the wall 2) become whatever the flies on the wall are watching.
Tonight was definitely a night for Mode Numero Uno. It was wild. Keep in mind we did not get there until 2AM... it did not open til 12:30AM... and we were not leaving for a while. Well, Javier wasn't. I told him I may head out around 4 or so, after practicing 5,000 times what I would tell the cabbie.
Anyway, Javier had fun dancing. I had fun watching 'everything' dancing... half of the people on the dance floor were not real. I mean, one man was wearing a Mad-hatters outfit! Fun times, I tell ya.
So out on the street, I grab a cab. I must say, the people I meet in these 'incidents' is quite comical and you really can't say its coincidental when it happens so often. So Mr. Cab Driver is named Sam and speaks English fairly well, he is French and conversation piece to conversation piece I quickly learn that he is in Madrid getting his PhD, after walking out of a relationship in Paris, and plans to move to the Canary Islands when he graduates. We commiserate break-up stories... which I am realizing more and more that tons of people call-off engagements, and a few that I have met have called off marriages.
Anyway, Sam seems more normal than Mr. Reiki with the licking fetish, and when he gives me his card, I willingly accept it.
After 10 days of spotty English/Spanish conversations I could go for a good chat.
As long as the suggested venue is not named 'Fantasy', I am game.
Thoughts for a Trainful Wednesday
I awoke to a very sensitive soul this morning. For some reason this morning in the quick taxi ride to the train station, the thought of dating in NYC again hit me. Something about Mr. Cabbie helping me with my bags and helping me into the car, made me realize that at some point in my life I am going to want someone to help me with more than my bags and the things that are just too heavy that I struggle with. At some point, I am going to want more than a friend I can be silly with. At some point, I am going to want more from a man than I have allowed myself to admit since 2009 began. And to get there, that means dating again in NYC.
Just the thought almost brought on a panic attack. Dating in the city can be such a chore. All of these nuances to figure out, which signals are being sent… and more importantly which are being received.I think part of this is a result of being away and having some time to climb down off my high-horse and be a little bit more real in the ten days I have been here bounding around Europe. And I know that when I get back to Manhattan it will be different than when I left. For the two months I was there – fresh off a broken engagement, ready to party and just have fun, spending all kinds of money because I could, giving any cute guy my phone number (usually multiple in one night) because hey, if they didn’t act quickly, my cell just might not work in a week or two! – I was foot-loose and fancy free. I had an exit strategy… I was headed to Europe for two months. Sayonara, sweetie, see ya in June.
But when I get back, its not going to be the same. I will have an apartment of my own, and my PO Box can go away. I will return to my ways of being more selective about who I spend my time with. Return to balancing a job with my social life (the operative word here being BALANCE). Return to living on a budget and every weekend not being a giant free-for-all. Return to a world where not everyone wants to know I am just out of a three year relationship where I cancelled the wedding. Return to the dreams and goals I have for myself, many of which do not involve staying out to 4AM or spending the entire weekend day-drinking.
In the time I have had to think about my life once I return, I see all these plans that were left in mid-stream at some point along the the three-year journey to this moment, that are now staring at me ready to be put back into play. Running so much while I am here has me thinking of the physical-challenge of the NYC marathon, maybe even as early as this year. There has always been the PhD card that I have always tossed around, and maybe its time I get going on that. There’s the creative me that really wants to start working towards getting published – it may be fiction, but hey, its published! Then there is the maternal me who wants a family life and a real home, and the two golden retrievers at a warm place in the sun.
As I stare at the bright blue skies and the deep green of the trees merging into one another outside of the train window, I feel like the world is trying to say to me “contrast, my dear, its all about contrast”. And I know it is… Party Paige had her time of absolute abandon, my restless spirit is now getting her day in the sun, and the ambitious, career-driven me as well as “Mommy Paige” as my interns often call me, will all have their day too. One phase just makes the next seem more meaningful as you know life on the flipside, and from one you can appreciate the next. There will come a day when all parts of me can cohabitate in the same body without drowning each other out.
But today is NOT that day. And until that day arrives, I will keep traveling, I will keep searching, I will keep hoping that one step in front of the other will lead me to the life I always wanted. Until then, there is Spain, and then France, and then Italy and then Greece, and then Turkey if I have time…So much to see before I even have to start thinking of another tiny village apt, graduate degrees or life beyond May 14, 2009.
Just the thought almost brought on a panic attack. Dating in the city can be such a chore. All of these nuances to figure out, which signals are being sent… and more importantly which are being received.I think part of this is a result of being away and having some time to climb down off my high-horse and be a little bit more real in the ten days I have been here bounding around Europe. And I know that when I get back to Manhattan it will be different than when I left. For the two months I was there – fresh off a broken engagement, ready to party and just have fun, spending all kinds of money because I could, giving any cute guy my phone number (usually multiple in one night) because hey, if they didn’t act quickly, my cell just might not work in a week or two! – I was foot-loose and fancy free. I had an exit strategy… I was headed to Europe for two months. Sayonara, sweetie, see ya in June.
But when I get back, its not going to be the same. I will have an apartment of my own, and my PO Box can go away. I will return to my ways of being more selective about who I spend my time with. Return to balancing a job with my social life (the operative word here being BALANCE). Return to living on a budget and every weekend not being a giant free-for-all. Return to a world where not everyone wants to know I am just out of a three year relationship where I cancelled the wedding. Return to the dreams and goals I have for myself, many of which do not involve staying out to 4AM or spending the entire weekend day-drinking.
In the time I have had to think about my life once I return, I see all these plans that were left in mid-stream at some point along the the three-year journey to this moment, that are now staring at me ready to be put back into play. Running so much while I am here has me thinking of the physical-challenge of the NYC marathon, maybe even as early as this year. There has always been the PhD card that I have always tossed around, and maybe its time I get going on that. There’s the creative me that really wants to start working towards getting published – it may be fiction, but hey, its published! Then there is the maternal me who wants a family life and a real home, and the two golden retrievers at a warm place in the sun.
As I stare at the bright blue skies and the deep green of the trees merging into one another outside of the train window, I feel like the world is trying to say to me “contrast, my dear, its all about contrast”. And I know it is… Party Paige had her time of absolute abandon, my restless spirit is now getting her day in the sun, and the ambitious, career-driven me as well as “Mommy Paige” as my interns often call me, will all have their day too. One phase just makes the next seem more meaningful as you know life on the flipside, and from one you can appreciate the next. There will come a day when all parts of me can cohabitate in the same body without drowning each other out.
But today is NOT that day. And until that day arrives, I will keep traveling, I will keep searching, I will keep hoping that one step in front of the other will lead me to the life I always wanted. Until then, there is Spain, and then France, and then Italy and then Greece, and then Turkey if I have time…So much to see before I even have to start thinking of another tiny village apt, graduate degrees or life beyond May 14, 2009.
Scent of a Man
My sense of smell is in overdrive these days. I can walk into a hotel room and tell if it was EVER smoked in. I can tell what kind of wine was used in a glass of sangria. I can tell if a dress I want to wear can go another day before adding it to the 'need to wash' pile. And I can smell a fresh fruit stand four blocks away. I think its just Mother Nature's way of ensuring safe and fresh smelling travels!
Anyway, the two smells that I have been digging since I entered Europe are:
1) The tiny, tiny yellow flowers that grow in small bunches and are in every park I enter (something similar to honeysuckle)
2) A specific type of man's cologne, not that I know the name, but its heavenly. It must be universal and very popular, as a guy I dated earlier this year in the States was a frequent wearer and I just loved it.
Anyway, in my less than 24 hours in Bilbao, these two scents were EVERYWHERE. Probably the only thing the city had going for it unrelated to the Guggenheim.
Anyway, the two smells that I have been digging since I entered Europe are:
1) The tiny, tiny yellow flowers that grow in small bunches and are in every park I enter (something similar to honeysuckle)
2) A specific type of man's cologne, not that I know the name, but its heavenly. It must be universal and very popular, as a guy I dated earlier this year in the States was a frequent wearer and I just loved it.
Anyway, in my less than 24 hours in Bilbao, these two scents were EVERYWHERE. Probably the only thing the city had going for it unrelated to the Guggenheim.
Bilbao
I am glad I made a stop in Bilbao to see the Guggenheim and enjoy a morning run by the river. I can’t say that I will be planning to stop here again, unless something work related brings me here.
For me the town/city felt dead. Everything was a struggle. From getting a taxi at the bus station yesterday to checking into my room with the woman who all she could say was “Non contiendo”. I get it, you don’t understand. Trust me, I don’t either.
There seems to be some universal European custom that if you are ONE PERSON, you can only stay in a room with ONE BED. This has happened to me before in my previous travels, but the woman last night was incredulous. I seriously thought she was going to call the American consulate to come have my head examined. “UNA PERSONA?” “DOS (insert word for bed here)?”
I felt like Carrie Bradshaw in the last episode of Sex in the City.
There are some words that translate well, which I think of as universal, and if I can read them from a sign on the wall in about 6 different languages, the pronunciation usually is not that difficult. Those words are “credit card”, “train”, “taxi”, “water”, minutes, “attention”… and of course others, but for this story this is all that we need.
This morning I got up for a quick run to see the Ghery building the Guggenheim is housed in one more time, as when I left last night it was dusk and I thought the view this morning would be nice. As I am leaving the hotel, the woman who runs it was outside smoking (maybe that explains why the WHOLE PLACE smelled of cigarettes), while blowing smoke into the breakfast area (I thought this should have been in the reverse, but my thinking and the way of life here were simply NOT JIVING so I just went with it).
When I returned from a quick run, I found Miss Cigarettes again, this time prepared with tools to ensure the conversation ended with “comprende”. I had a map of Bilbao, a notepad and a pen.
I took the map and circled the hotel, “aqui”. I then circled the train station. I next pointed to myself, and then the hotel, “I am here”… I want to go to the train station, and then wrote the word taxi followed by 30 minutos. She kind of got it, and when I had showered and pulled through with my bags she said “taxi – tre minutos”. Yeah… victory!
Paying was a whole other issue involving a lot of “a dei mios”. Trust me lady, my thoughts exactly.
Everyone here seems put out by tourists, or maybe its just me they are not too thrilled with. At the Guggenheim they seemed to get it…anywhere else (minus the ice cream man last night) forgettaboutit. Even the men working at the hotel… never heard of the world chilvalry – must be something that doesn’t translate well.
I don’t pull the damsel in distress card too often, but when you see a woman heaving a bag down a set of winding crooked steps, you help her. Hell, I do it whenever I see ANYONE (man or woman) lugging something too heavy for them. This morning THREE men watched me nearly fall down the steps. Granted, it might have been a funny site to see… but come on, help a girl out. I think its just common sense.
So now I am on the train and bound for Madrid. My friend Sarah has arranged for me for me to meet up with her friend Javier for a few days for him to show me the sites. I am looking forward to being in a bigger city for a few days after this small town feel. If there is a beach, I seem to fit well with the city’s energy. A town in the valley set by a river? Not so much.
I have heard great things about Madrid and have arranged to stay three nights… and maybe longer. Sometime while I am here I want to see a bull-fight, and Madrid may just be the place.
For now I have a 5 hour ride to Madrid, and I think I would be wise to teach myself some Spanish so I feel a bit about better about myself. As right now I am just waiting for my “dunce” cap so I can go sit in the corner.
For me the town/city felt dead. Everything was a struggle. From getting a taxi at the bus station yesterday to checking into my room with the woman who all she could say was “Non contiendo”. I get it, you don’t understand. Trust me, I don’t either.
There seems to be some universal European custom that if you are ONE PERSON, you can only stay in a room with ONE BED. This has happened to me before in my previous travels, but the woman last night was incredulous. I seriously thought she was going to call the American consulate to come have my head examined. “UNA PERSONA?” “DOS (insert word for bed here)?”
I felt like Carrie Bradshaw in the last episode of Sex in the City.
There are some words that translate well, which I think of as universal, and if I can read them from a sign on the wall in about 6 different languages, the pronunciation usually is not that difficult. Those words are “credit card”, “train”, “taxi”, “water”, minutes, “attention”… and of course others, but for this story this is all that we need.
This morning I got up for a quick run to see the Ghery building the Guggenheim is housed in one more time, as when I left last night it was dusk and I thought the view this morning would be nice. As I am leaving the hotel, the woman who runs it was outside smoking (maybe that explains why the WHOLE PLACE smelled of cigarettes), while blowing smoke into the breakfast area (I thought this should have been in the reverse, but my thinking and the way of life here were simply NOT JIVING so I just went with it).
When I returned from a quick run, I found Miss Cigarettes again, this time prepared with tools to ensure the conversation ended with “comprende”. I had a map of Bilbao, a notepad and a pen.
I took the map and circled the hotel, “aqui”. I then circled the train station. I next pointed to myself, and then the hotel, “I am here”… I want to go to the train station, and then wrote the word taxi followed by 30 minutos. She kind of got it, and when I had showered and pulled through with my bags she said “taxi – tre minutos”. Yeah… victory!
Paying was a whole other issue involving a lot of “a dei mios”. Trust me lady, my thoughts exactly.
Everyone here seems put out by tourists, or maybe its just me they are not too thrilled with. At the Guggenheim they seemed to get it…anywhere else (minus the ice cream man last night) forgettaboutit. Even the men working at the hotel… never heard of the world chilvalry – must be something that doesn’t translate well.
I don’t pull the damsel in distress card too often, but when you see a woman heaving a bag down a set of winding crooked steps, you help her. Hell, I do it whenever I see ANYONE (man or woman) lugging something too heavy for them. This morning THREE men watched me nearly fall down the steps. Granted, it might have been a funny site to see… but come on, help a girl out. I think its just common sense.
So now I am on the train and bound for Madrid. My friend Sarah has arranged for me for me to meet up with her friend Javier for a few days for him to show me the sites. I am looking forward to being in a bigger city for a few days after this small town feel. If there is a beach, I seem to fit well with the city’s energy. A town in the valley set by a river? Not so much.
I have heard great things about Madrid and have arranged to stay three nights… and maybe longer. Sometime while I am here I want to see a bull-fight, and Madrid may just be the place.
For now I have a 5 hour ride to Madrid, and I think I would be wise to teach myself some Spanish so I feel a bit about better about myself. As right now I am just waiting for my “dunce” cap so I can go sit in the corner.
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