Just like in life, there are no definite rules for the road. In both, its all about figuring out the rules and learning as you go, making your own map, and hoping that following it will lead to a life well lived or smoother travels.
As I have learned in my travel to Tenerife, accepting an invitation to visit Spanish Paradise, doesn’t mean that I will feel like I am in paradise every minute I am there. Renting a car doesn’t mean that driving it will be easy. And having a map will not necessarily make the journey any easier, as I discovered on my solo journey to Aeropuerto de Norte from Caletillas.
Jose had clients this morning, which I was secretly super-excited about as it meant a few things.
1) He would not want to go out late last night.
2) He would not once again try to sleepover. (I have heard every possible excuse at this point)
3) I would have the morning to myself.
The only potential negative was that I may have some trouble getting to the airport alone. But I figured I had a map, I knew how to drive, I knew how to read, so what could be difficult?
Well, as you can probably guess this trip was not ‘easy as pie’. There was road work, and some how I ended up in downtown Santa Cruz extremely frustrated and worried I would miss my flight. I had already turned around twice, been near the university and almost back to Caletillas, and I wasn’t so worried as the island is only 60km wide so I had to be at least close. But I was anxious, and the last thing I wanted to do was call Jose. Something told me he would not be too helpful in this situation. But nothing I seemed to be doing was working so I gave him a call, but his phone was off (glad I was not in real danger, buddy…but I guess its really not his responsibility)
As soon as I had hung up the phone, BAM! A gas station. Me and my trusty map are out of the car in a flash, and through a version of sign language I learn that I go straight and then I should see a BIG SIGN “AEROPUERTO de NORTE”… or so she said. I was still on edge -- as most people would be alone in a foreign country, in a rental car and trying to make a flight.
I went straight and then was one of these crazy round-a-bouts which always confuse the hell out of me. When do I go? When does the other person? Which lane should I be in? Etc. Etc.
Somehow after this curvaceous adventure I look up and see BIG SIGN for AEROPUERTO DE NORTE. Yes! (high five!) Thank you God.
Returning the car was a cinch. Checking in was even easier. And when I made it through security (sans my fortune in Canarian cheese) I found a café with GINORMOUS coffees. The largest I have ever seen in Europe. Excellent.
The travel gods were in my favor today and I did get the rules right. Thankfully. The more I travel the more rules on life I write for myself…and burn a few others. Maybe its not so much about making rules, but knowing when its time to retire the life rules we create for ourselves. I know the next match I strike will be to burn a few of my own.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Sun Day! Beach Day!
After the drama of yesterday, I was going to be directing the show today. Jose was coming at noon for coffee and we were on the way to la playa! Or at least somewhere that offered sun bathing.When I went out for a run, the little town of Caletillas was setting up for something on the boardwalk… I just did not know what, yet.
When I came back out for a coffee, it was wild. Spin classes and step classes on the boardwalk! And music to accompany it. Needless to say, they don’t do brunch the same way its done in NYC.
So I find our coffee spot, and grab a seat in the sun while I wait on Senor Figueroa. Its hot and I am loving it.
Jose is someone you can’t help but notice from a distance. And can be quite charming – from a distance. When I realized I had missed a few calls from him, I call him back and see him wandering on the boardwalk. I wave big and when he sees me he starts mimicking the step-girls. His exuberance can be funny, and I had to laugh.
I am realizing I can handle Jose is small doses. When we meet for coffee we always have great conversations. (Maybe that is before he orders a café con leche leche --coffee with condensed milk -- and then adds 4 sugars.) Today he thought instead of driving to the south, we should stay around here and visit the natural pools in the Canaries… Works for me. If the sun was there, I had no problem. He led me to the most amazing spot. Natural waterfalls. Tiers of natural rock for sunbathing, and the natural pools at the bottom. True paradise.
Now, there are two types of sunbathers. Those who love the sun and if they are in it are content and need little more. And those that do anything to get out of it. I was the former, Jose was the latter.
After being there 20 minutes, and Jose has been for a swim, he says, “I bet I know what you want right now?” Other than peace, quiet and sunshine, what could I possibly want? “An ice cream!” he shouts. Okay, today is not going to be easy-peasy like I was hoping.
With no response, he jumps to the next potential topic… Lunch. Is he serious? We just got here.
There were a number of hits and misses at conversation. Bottomline, I was not moving for a while. He could do whatever he wanted. I would be available for lunch at 4:30… plus he just ate a muffin at 12:30!
We go in for a paella lunch (dinner) and mojitos at this great place overlooking the sea. It truly is perfect. Then Jose wants to talk about bringing his business to America. Reiki… again? Does he seriously think he can flamenco into Fortune 500 companies and sell them on the esoteric tradition and his hot hands? I tell him I can talk about this for one-hour, starting now. He is just really trying my patience on all of this. I don’t’ want to talk about esoteric traditions, Reiki or those damn Bach flowers. But I am his guest so I will indulge him… briefly.
After lunch and a mini-reiki session for me, which really didn’t work because I was counting the seconds til he left, we bid each other farewell, and I had a final sunset in Caletillas to enjoy on my own.
Jose, you are right. The universe really does work for those who truly believe in it.
A Day on the Road with Jose
After the near disaster with the car a few days ago, I needed a break from my new friend. So I got that and had a lovely day to myself in Calatillas, I read, wrote, ran and just did the things I wanted to do. I attempted sunbathing and literally blew away with the blustery weather Tenerife has been experiencing. But the day itself was terrific.
Then today I got up and went for a run and met Jose at the café for about 6 coffees. He had a great idea. Why not rent a car AND driver for the day so we can enjoy sight-seeing? Something told me this was an awful idea. BUT when you see someone so wrapped up in their own genius moment how do you burst their bubble? So against my better judgment, 30 minutes later I climb into a cab ready for “little Las Vegas” and “Teide”.
All goes smoothly until Jose and the driver get into a VERY heated argument about the cost of our hired hand. This was about 20 minutes down the road. Jose calls the guy an asshole, and for some reason did not think the guy knew the meaning since he said it in English. Trust me, there were no good vibes in that vehicle. And Captain Energy (my nickname for Jose) wanted to discuss it with me... at length.
Jose is not a quiet person. He is 6 foot something, very bullish in his demeanor, and highly expressive. (If you think I talk with my hands, you should see this guy. He is like a walking Tigger from Winnie the Pooh).
The taxi driver knew what was going on. It didn’t take a genius. They get in another heated state. I am hating this. I may not understand everything, but its clear to see they are bullying each other. I tell Jose to cool it, and he eases back. Just as we pull into a beautiful sunning spot, with amazing views, and a 10 Euro beach towel later and we are on the beach. Well I am. Jose forgot his swimsuit and sandals and is laying out in jeans and sneakers. We were definitely the odd couple.
After an hour, Jose is getting red, we found Senor Taxi Driver and we are headed for Tiede, the volcano and the highest point in Spain. Half way up the mountain, Jose decides we need lunch. Its almost 5PM is he serious? He knows the most terrific place! (of course he does… did I mention we are on the side of a volcano? Something tells me there is only one place…) The place he chose had amazing views of the coastline, the mountains, etc. And truly was absolutely perfect. AND they had the best cheese in the world… seriously, it won GOLD at the World Cheese Championship. It was made in the Canaries, so we had to try it, and it was outstanding! (In Spain the cheese course seems to be more of an appetizer than in France where it falls towards the desert end of the spectrum) Its over this course that Jose decides to apologize for the other day, which is very sweet and very much appreciated.
Our lunch/dinner was absolutely divine. Over lunch Jose was playing with a piece of paper – more of a heavy meditation that was VERY concerning -- telling me it was magic, and it would bring us good luck on the way to the volcano. Okay, I knew something was up. He is now getting bad vibes about our over-weight Spanish taxi driver?
When we left the restaurant we left with almost 10lbs of the world’s finest cheese. Seriously, given the retail value in the States (almost $400 a lb) the cheese was worth more than the cab!
No sooner had we gotten in the car then we are pulling into a service station. (Jose, I think you needed to do your “magic trick” in the reverse order). Then we are going again. Up and up and up… the driver obviously is trying to make a tip as he started pointing out everything remotely interesting that we were passing, and there was a lot. Truly. Tons of tomato, potato and banana farms growing on the side of this volcano.
As we pass a sign indicating we had 13kms to go, the car started smoking, and dies. No joke. We are stranded on top of a mountain. Mine was the only cell phone that worked (THANK GOD I had it with me). The driver was getting a tow truck, but who knew how long that would take. (Experience told me the Spanish don’t move quickly.)
Then today I got up and went for a run and met Jose at the café for about 6 coffees. He had a great idea. Why not rent a car AND driver for the day so we can enjoy sight-seeing? Something told me this was an awful idea. BUT when you see someone so wrapped up in their own genius moment how do you burst their bubble? So against my better judgment, 30 minutes later I climb into a cab ready for “little Las Vegas” and “Teide”.
All goes smoothly until Jose and the driver get into a VERY heated argument about the cost of our hired hand. This was about 20 minutes down the road. Jose calls the guy an asshole, and for some reason did not think the guy knew the meaning since he said it in English. Trust me, there were no good vibes in that vehicle. And Captain Energy (my nickname for Jose) wanted to discuss it with me... at length.
Jose is not a quiet person. He is 6 foot something, very bullish in his demeanor, and highly expressive. (If you think I talk with my hands, you should see this guy. He is like a walking Tigger from Winnie the Pooh).
The taxi driver knew what was going on. It didn’t take a genius. They get in another heated state. I am hating this. I may not understand everything, but its clear to see they are bullying each other. I tell Jose to cool it, and he eases back. Just as we pull into a beautiful sunning spot, with amazing views, and a 10 Euro beach towel later and we are on the beach. Well I am. Jose forgot his swimsuit and sandals and is laying out in jeans and sneakers. We were definitely the odd couple.
After an hour, Jose is getting red, we found Senor Taxi Driver and we are headed for Tiede, the volcano and the highest point in Spain. Half way up the mountain, Jose decides we need lunch. Its almost 5PM is he serious? He knows the most terrific place! (of course he does… did I mention we are on the side of a volcano? Something tells me there is only one place…) The place he chose had amazing views of the coastline, the mountains, etc. And truly was absolutely perfect. AND they had the best cheese in the world… seriously, it won GOLD at the World Cheese Championship. It was made in the Canaries, so we had to try it, and it was outstanding! (In Spain the cheese course seems to be more of an appetizer than in France where it falls towards the desert end of the spectrum) Its over this course that Jose decides to apologize for the other day, which is very sweet and very much appreciated.
Our lunch/dinner was absolutely divine. Over lunch Jose was playing with a piece of paper – more of a heavy meditation that was VERY concerning -- telling me it was magic, and it would bring us good luck on the way to the volcano. Okay, I knew something was up. He is now getting bad vibes about our over-weight Spanish taxi driver?
When we left the restaurant we left with almost 10lbs of the world’s finest cheese. Seriously, given the retail value in the States (almost $400 a lb) the cheese was worth more than the cab!
No sooner had we gotten in the car then we are pulling into a service station. (Jose, I think you needed to do your “magic trick” in the reverse order). Then we are going again. Up and up and up… the driver obviously is trying to make a tip as he started pointing out everything remotely interesting that we were passing, and there was a lot. Truly. Tons of tomato, potato and banana farms growing on the side of this volcano.
As we pass a sign indicating we had 13kms to go, the car started smoking, and dies. No joke. We are stranded on top of a mountain. Mine was the only cell phone that worked (THANK GOD I had it with me). The driver was getting a tow truck, but who knew how long that would take. (Experience told me the Spanish don’t move quickly.)
Jose decided to cash in our chips and hitch hike… And we were golden, the first car that passed was a lovely Spanish couple who were in Las Americas for a pediatrician clinic (Jose is thrilled… more clients!). They picked us up and we continued our assent, which was truly breathtaking. It was hard to believe that as we leveled out this huge rocky expanse engulfed us, and then we were staring at Tiede. So massive and far up there! Simply amazing.
We had a coffee with the couple, and Jose dominated the conversation with Reiki and his Bach flowers. I can’t decide if I should advise him that other people might like to get a word in, as when he gets going it’s a little intense. An hour later we are headed back down, with more amazing views… and more of his Reiki bullshit. (I have about had it… this guy is truly a one-trick pony)
THEN when we get to Los Cristanos, Jose decides to give Senor Doctore a reiki treatment. OMIGOD. I could scream. I knew us not driving was a HORRIBLE idea. Jose of course thinks it’s a god send, and I have to listen to this all the way back to Calatillas.
You would think someone who is “so clued in to the universe” would not be so exuberant every time life works out. Seriously, does he get so excited and do this ridiculous laughing-snorting-laughing thing EVERYTIME he has a run-in with life (or the universe)?
I was quickly, and sadly, realizing Senor Jose Figueroa was not everything he was cracked up to be.
We had a coffee with the couple, and Jose dominated the conversation with Reiki and his Bach flowers. I can’t decide if I should advise him that other people might like to get a word in, as when he gets going it’s a little intense. An hour later we are headed back down, with more amazing views… and more of his Reiki bullshit. (I have about had it… this guy is truly a one-trick pony)
THEN when we get to Los Cristanos, Jose decides to give Senor Doctore a reiki treatment. OMIGOD. I could scream. I knew us not driving was a HORRIBLE idea. Jose of course thinks it’s a god send, and I have to listen to this all the way back to Calatillas.
You would think someone who is “so clued in to the universe” would not be so exuberant every time life works out. Seriously, does he get so excited and do this ridiculous laughing-snorting-laughing thing EVERYTIME he has a run-in with life (or the universe)?
I was quickly, and sadly, realizing Senor Jose Figueroa was not everything he was cracked up to be.
Fool for a Lonesome Train... and anything else going some where
A friend of mine in NYC gave me several music mixes as a parting gift for my travels. I have relished them in full, as listening to an ipod is the best way to say to the rest of the world “I don’t want to be bothered”. And that is the way I spend much of my time on the road, listening in and tuning out.
Throughout my life I have always been a bit of a loner… usually a highly social loner, but the truth is as much as I spend time with people, I usually spend a great deal of time alone. I like it that way.
When it comes to travel, I like to go at it alone… whether that be on the subway, a train, a plane or a road trip built for one, etc. I love starting in one spot and ending somewhere all together new and different, and almost with any trip life can be transformed in an instant. I love when the subway cars ‘swoosh” into the station, or when planes taxi for take-off. I always feel that “life” is getting ready to happen. And I often find myself during these moments of transition in an internal state of expectancy to see what is going to happen next. Life seldom lets me down.
Throughout my travels… the long flight from JFK to BCN, the many trains, the tiny inns and cheap hotels, the coffee time and the dinners for one, I have not minded being alone. I make pretty good company for myself. I have not needed more. Or truly wanted more.
Granted, there have been times that I would kill to have a lengthy conversation in English, or that my Spanish was better so I could have a conversation with a friendly someone, but other than that I am okay on my own.
I am not lonely. I am simply alone. And for me, right now, alone is the most perfect place of existence. With each day I am moving past old roles and situations. I have moved past being some chick that called off a wedding to someone truly traveling… through the world, through my own life, through possibilities, through everything the Spanish sun offers. I would not trade this time in my life for anything.
In the past however many days I have been gone, I have learned so much about myself and the world, and the wonderful people in it. I have managed to get lost in the world, from city to city, train to train, ocean to ocean, conversation to conversation. My life is here now.
Distance is good for the soul, and truly good for my soul. Who knows where I will be mentally and emotionally when I land at JFK come mid-May. I can guarantee it will be a lot further from this moment, and even further past the reasons that gave me a kick in the pants and said “get going with YOUR life…”
Sometimes its best to go at life solo… And when you find your own voice in the great big world, well, that is truly something no one in the world can take away. Its you on your own, fighting for yourself, and truly capable of creating whatever life you want… here or the next stop on the train, or wherever you return.
Right now, the world (well, Spain, Italy and Greece) is my playground. And sometimes I will be found playing alone, but then I find an English speaking playdate and I appreciate the contrast to my days of aloneness.
I guess life truly is about balance. I may spend more days alone than in company right now, but at least I am enjoying all shades of company – whether that be another or simply me. The saddest moments in life – I think – are feeling lonely even with company. And unfortunately, that is a feeling I had learned all too well in my past life.
So I will happily accept being alone right now, on city streets or lonesome trains, or whenever I can catch up with the voice in my head. It truly is where I need to be right now, and the world is where I belong.
Throughout my life I have always been a bit of a loner… usually a highly social loner, but the truth is as much as I spend time with people, I usually spend a great deal of time alone. I like it that way.
When it comes to travel, I like to go at it alone… whether that be on the subway, a train, a plane or a road trip built for one, etc. I love starting in one spot and ending somewhere all together new and different, and almost with any trip life can be transformed in an instant. I love when the subway cars ‘swoosh” into the station, or when planes taxi for take-off. I always feel that “life” is getting ready to happen. And I often find myself during these moments of transition in an internal state of expectancy to see what is going to happen next. Life seldom lets me down.
Throughout my travels… the long flight from JFK to BCN, the many trains, the tiny inns and cheap hotels, the coffee time and the dinners for one, I have not minded being alone. I make pretty good company for myself. I have not needed more. Or truly wanted more.
Granted, there have been times that I would kill to have a lengthy conversation in English, or that my Spanish was better so I could have a conversation with a friendly someone, but other than that I am okay on my own.
I am not lonely. I am simply alone. And for me, right now, alone is the most perfect place of existence. With each day I am moving past old roles and situations. I have moved past being some chick that called off a wedding to someone truly traveling… through the world, through my own life, through possibilities, through everything the Spanish sun offers. I would not trade this time in my life for anything.
In the past however many days I have been gone, I have learned so much about myself and the world, and the wonderful people in it. I have managed to get lost in the world, from city to city, train to train, ocean to ocean, conversation to conversation. My life is here now.
Distance is good for the soul, and truly good for my soul. Who knows where I will be mentally and emotionally when I land at JFK come mid-May. I can guarantee it will be a lot further from this moment, and even further past the reasons that gave me a kick in the pants and said “get going with YOUR life…”
Sometimes its best to go at life solo… And when you find your own voice in the great big world, well, that is truly something no one in the world can take away. Its you on your own, fighting for yourself, and truly capable of creating whatever life you want… here or the next stop on the train, or wherever you return.
Right now, the world (well, Spain, Italy and Greece) is my playground. And sometimes I will be found playing alone, but then I find an English speaking playdate and I appreciate the contrast to my days of aloneness.
I guess life truly is about balance. I may spend more days alone than in company right now, but at least I am enjoying all shades of company – whether that be another or simply me. The saddest moments in life – I think – are feeling lonely even with company. And unfortunately, that is a feeling I had learned all too well in my past life.
So I will happily accept being alone right now, on city streets or lonesome trains, or whenever I can catch up with the voice in my head. It truly is where I need to be right now, and the world is where I belong.
This is the only time I will use the "F" word. Promise.
I don’t cuss. Except for the words “hell” (that’s a place), and “damn” (that can also kind of be a place? Okay, not really).On April 2, I had a few more choice words to add to my vocabulary.
When Jose arrived on Thursday afternoon to head out to celebrate his birthday, it was about 6PM, I had no clue what we were doing, so I had no clue what to put on. Good thing to as he changed his mind 5 times when he walked in the apt.
Now people who know me, know I often struggle making up my mind, especially when it concerns what we are going to do RIGHT NOW. As usually, there are ump-teen million things we could do. I do well with people who are a little more decisive… or maybe more decision focused than me. I can come up with 500 things to choose from, its deciding amongst the options I cant choose. Put me and someone like me in a room, and we are going nowhere too quickly.
We did not leave until almost 7PM.
We were headed to the old city, or so we thought.
After a lengthy discussion with my mom the night before, I now knew how to find reverse in the tiny Volkswagon Golf Jose had me rent – even though the diagram on the gear shift was of no use whatsoever.
I quickly realized Jose’s attention to detail had not improved in the past 24 hours. He directed the car as he would direct a taxi, and I quickly let him know that he better get it together if he wanted to find his “old city” as I was “no taxi driver” and did not appreciate being made to feel like one.
He kept mentioning this place was great for drinks, lots of bars, etc… I was going to lose it. Just who did he think was driving home? By this point, I had realized that not only did he not own a car, he had no clue how to drive one.
The idea of going bar hopping in the old city was a nice one. He posed it for my benefit. But the reality is, I am half his size, driving a piece of crap in a foreign country where I don’t exactly speak the language, and “bar hopping” just really did not feel like a practical option right then.
THEN THE UNTHINKABLE HAPPENS.
Jose yells “parking spot!!!” while waving like a madman… I veer the piece of shit car into said spot… on a downward slope, and it dies when I try to reverse. When I analyze the logistics of making this work – ie, my parallel parking skills (which by the way, I failed my drivers test the first time because I CANT PARALLEL PARK… and only passed the second time when I promised never to attempt it in the real world), and stupid 5-speed we had, and the downhill status. This was just an accident waiting to happen. Literally.
I look at Jose and tell him I can’t do this. I can’t get into the spot. I can’t get out. We are stuck. I am in mild panic state as I don’t know Canary Island parking laws or what happens if I hit a cars bumper or worse. He looks at me and says the MOST ASSANINE thing I have ever heard “Dear, take your flowers.” Was he fucking kidding? I am in the middle of a traffic jam, in the middle of a parking spot, in the middle of rush hour, and he wanted me to take some stupid flower essence???!!
I lose it with idiots like this. All reality has been tossed out the window. No regard for traffic violations, frustrations caused to others, or potential accidents… the one only focus is on their chosen remedy for life. In his case, Bach flowers.
Now, its no secret that I love “new age” or “old age” (depending on how you look at it) wisdom. I love reading my horoscope, I love knowing my numerology, I love people reading my palm, I love reading tarot cards… I love consulting these people but I don’t lead my life based on it. Sometimes it fits, sometimes it doesn’t. You go from there. The fact that Jose was suggesting I ingest flowers to help us get the car out of this compromised position was the most ABSURD thing I could possibly listen too. Come on, man, take some responsibility! If I drink the whole bottle of Bach flower, the car is still stuck. Lets focus on REAL remedies. Like you stopping traffic so I can get the car going correctly, or something that did not involve plant matter. Dear. God. I was ready to shoot this Canary.
When the car was unstuck and panic had dissipated (mostly), Jose thought it wise to give me a lecture on the purpose of Bach flower. I had about 4 minutes left in my patience before I lost it. He did not do anything to deplete my anger and instead invoked it so the following points were made (by me) in a non-subtle, non-questionable fashion:
1) He needed to grow up and learn how to be hospitable. People come to town for a vacation not to be his taxi driver.
2) IF he ever suggested Bach flower as a solution to anything other than my own personal restlessness, he would be wearing any and all forms of the flower remedy he gave me.
3) IF he ever tried to kiss me, hold my hand, etc. AGAIN he would be in the most incredible pain of his life.
I WAS FUCKING PISSED.
And you know what this idiot said? “Dear, you are so beautiful when you are angry.”
This guy obviously didn’t get it.
All I wanted him to do was drop him off in the subway station, and find my way home. Unfortunately, the islands have no subway… Argh.
So I get the car back to Calatillas, and we wander down to Candelaria, to a true Canarian restaurant beside the old Cathedral. The views were amazing, the conversation not so much. But fortunately since it was Jose’s birthday his cell phone took care of this. Every few minutes it would ring and we would again fane surprise “Caballero, como estas?!!? Mi compleanos??!!” A dei mei. The night was so young. Sadly.
Fortunately the calls kept coming in so I did not have to talk to him. I was so irritated. But I did not dare tell him that.
Although I must say, tonight I was getting my own award of “Most Ill behaved on a Date”. I was not really aiding the situation to shift to something more positive. I could not believe this turkey... or canary, or truly, DoDo.
Oh, but then he became a genius. “Dear, you are very upset. (really, did he just now figure this out?) I am going to give you some nice reiki when we get back to the apartment!” (while rubbing his hands together like he was getting ready to devour a steak. Gross.) He thought this was a fabulous idea. I thought it sucked.
And in simple English, I told him this.
When I am irritated, I do not like to be around the source of my irritation. (does anyone?)
He slowly got it, and I went to fetch la cuenta. And although I was pissed, it was his birthday, and this old man was not paying for his own bday dinner.
When Jose arrived on Thursday afternoon to head out to celebrate his birthday, it was about 6PM, I had no clue what we were doing, so I had no clue what to put on. Good thing to as he changed his mind 5 times when he walked in the apt.
Now people who know me, know I often struggle making up my mind, especially when it concerns what we are going to do RIGHT NOW. As usually, there are ump-teen million things we could do. I do well with people who are a little more decisive… or maybe more decision focused than me. I can come up with 500 things to choose from, its deciding amongst the options I cant choose. Put me and someone like me in a room, and we are going nowhere too quickly.
We did not leave until almost 7PM.
We were headed to the old city, or so we thought.
After a lengthy discussion with my mom the night before, I now knew how to find reverse in the tiny Volkswagon Golf Jose had me rent – even though the diagram on the gear shift was of no use whatsoever.
I quickly realized Jose’s attention to detail had not improved in the past 24 hours. He directed the car as he would direct a taxi, and I quickly let him know that he better get it together if he wanted to find his “old city” as I was “no taxi driver” and did not appreciate being made to feel like one.
He kept mentioning this place was great for drinks, lots of bars, etc… I was going to lose it. Just who did he think was driving home? By this point, I had realized that not only did he not own a car, he had no clue how to drive one.
The idea of going bar hopping in the old city was a nice one. He posed it for my benefit. But the reality is, I am half his size, driving a piece of crap in a foreign country where I don’t exactly speak the language, and “bar hopping” just really did not feel like a practical option right then.
THEN THE UNTHINKABLE HAPPENS.
Jose yells “parking spot!!!” while waving like a madman… I veer the piece of shit car into said spot… on a downward slope, and it dies when I try to reverse. When I analyze the logistics of making this work – ie, my parallel parking skills (which by the way, I failed my drivers test the first time because I CANT PARALLEL PARK… and only passed the second time when I promised never to attempt it in the real world), and stupid 5-speed we had, and the downhill status. This was just an accident waiting to happen. Literally.
I look at Jose and tell him I can’t do this. I can’t get into the spot. I can’t get out. We are stuck. I am in mild panic state as I don’t know Canary Island parking laws or what happens if I hit a cars bumper or worse. He looks at me and says the MOST ASSANINE thing I have ever heard “Dear, take your flowers.” Was he fucking kidding? I am in the middle of a traffic jam, in the middle of a parking spot, in the middle of rush hour, and he wanted me to take some stupid flower essence???!!
I lose it with idiots like this. All reality has been tossed out the window. No regard for traffic violations, frustrations caused to others, or potential accidents… the one only focus is on their chosen remedy for life. In his case, Bach flowers.
Now, its no secret that I love “new age” or “old age” (depending on how you look at it) wisdom. I love reading my horoscope, I love knowing my numerology, I love people reading my palm, I love reading tarot cards… I love consulting these people but I don’t lead my life based on it. Sometimes it fits, sometimes it doesn’t. You go from there. The fact that Jose was suggesting I ingest flowers to help us get the car out of this compromised position was the most ABSURD thing I could possibly listen too. Come on, man, take some responsibility! If I drink the whole bottle of Bach flower, the car is still stuck. Lets focus on REAL remedies. Like you stopping traffic so I can get the car going correctly, or something that did not involve plant matter. Dear. God. I was ready to shoot this Canary.
When the car was unstuck and panic had dissipated (mostly), Jose thought it wise to give me a lecture on the purpose of Bach flower. I had about 4 minutes left in my patience before I lost it. He did not do anything to deplete my anger and instead invoked it so the following points were made (by me) in a non-subtle, non-questionable fashion:
1) He needed to grow up and learn how to be hospitable. People come to town for a vacation not to be his taxi driver.
2) IF he ever suggested Bach flower as a solution to anything other than my own personal restlessness, he would be wearing any and all forms of the flower remedy he gave me.
3) IF he ever tried to kiss me, hold my hand, etc. AGAIN he would be in the most incredible pain of his life.
I WAS FUCKING PISSED.
And you know what this idiot said? “Dear, you are so beautiful when you are angry.”
This guy obviously didn’t get it.
All I wanted him to do was drop him off in the subway station, and find my way home. Unfortunately, the islands have no subway… Argh.
So I get the car back to Calatillas, and we wander down to Candelaria, to a true Canarian restaurant beside the old Cathedral. The views were amazing, the conversation not so much. But fortunately since it was Jose’s birthday his cell phone took care of this. Every few minutes it would ring and we would again fane surprise “Caballero, como estas?!!? Mi compleanos??!!” A dei mei. The night was so young. Sadly.
Fortunately the calls kept coming in so I did not have to talk to him. I was so irritated. But I did not dare tell him that.
Although I must say, tonight I was getting my own award of “Most Ill behaved on a Date”. I was not really aiding the situation to shift to something more positive. I could not believe this turkey... or canary, or truly, DoDo.
Oh, but then he became a genius. “Dear, you are very upset. (really, did he just now figure this out?) I am going to give you some nice reiki when we get back to the apartment!” (while rubbing his hands together like he was getting ready to devour a steak. Gross.) He thought this was a fabulous idea. I thought it sucked.
And in simple English, I told him this.
When I am irritated, I do not like to be around the source of my irritation. (does anyone?)
He slowly got it, and I went to fetch la cuenta. And although I was pissed, it was his birthday, and this old man was not paying for his own bday dinner.
A New Version of Southern Hospitality
While I tried to mentally prepare for meeting Jose in the Canaries, I truly had no idea what to prepare for as Jose is a wild card. I knew I had my own place to stay. (thank goodness) I knew he did not drive. (I was renting a car) And the Canaries are one of the most beautiful places on earth. (I was counting on it). I knew Jose was working some of the time, but I have also learned that the Spanish idea of “work” is more of an idea than reality, so I was not sure how much time I had to myself and I could really use some 'Paige time'. Nothing against my new friend, but when you need time to yourself, you need it.
There were a few nuances that could have been tweaked upon as I began to get a more clear idea of how life in the Canaries worked. Or should I say, how my life in the Canaries was going to work? I realize more so now, than at any other point in my travels so far, its very important for people to tell you precisely who they are and if they are not speaking clearly, its okay for you to figure it out for them. Here are a few situations I had to deal with during the first 3 hours in Tenerife.
Situation #1: When someone says they don’t drive, I assume they don’t own a car. NOT that they are 39 and don’t know how to operate 4-wheels and a steering wheel. Jose represented the latter, making me a bit uneasy.
Situation #2: When someone is from a place – lived there most of their lifetime – I expect them to know their way around. Not me figuring it for the both of us.
Situation #3: When a female tells you repeatedly they are not interested in you beyond friendly CONVERSATION, that is simply it. Don’t try and be God, and attempt to change her mind. Its simply a waste. Especially if its me you are dealing with.
Needless to say the early moments of getting to the Canaries were a bit awkward. I was ready to kill Jose with his lack of driving skills, his lack of direction or foresight, and if he tried to kiss me ONE MORE TIME, I swear, I was not going to be only one sounding like a female. I don’t care if he is twice my size, I could take him.
When we got to my apt over looking the sea, I was willing to forgive a lot. When the car deficiencies were behind us and we could get to the little town by the sea for a drink and a bite to eat, I was getting back to my previously relaxed state. We had an enjoyable dinner. Half with him treating me like a patient, half with him selling me on his qualities as a person, and man. He was droning, and exhausting me … and I could care less about his multiple qualities that women 10 YEARS AGO found attractive… I was more concerned with the present, and how quickly we could wrap up this little soiree so I could be off to dreamland and he could be on the bus bound for Santa Cruz.
Unfortunately with Jose nothing is short-winded or brief. He is very expressive and one of those types to repeat things a trillion times to bring emphasis. This is super-annoying to me, as I listen. I don’t need to hear things over and over. I am a quick study. Say it once. I got it. The rest is just wasted breath.
I landed at 5:30PM. We sat down to dinner at 8PM. It was now 11:30PM. I was tired. I did not want to hear anymore about Reiki or the esoteric tradition or how he used to be a womanizer in his custom-made Italian suites. Good for you, Cabrellero, now can we go?
Seriously, this for 4 more days? I pray he has an American work ethic.
There were a few nuances that could have been tweaked upon as I began to get a more clear idea of how life in the Canaries worked. Or should I say, how my life in the Canaries was going to work? I realize more so now, than at any other point in my travels so far, its very important for people to tell you precisely who they are and if they are not speaking clearly, its okay for you to figure it out for them. Here are a few situations I had to deal with during the first 3 hours in Tenerife.
Situation #1: When someone says they don’t drive, I assume they don’t own a car. NOT that they are 39 and don’t know how to operate 4-wheels and a steering wheel. Jose represented the latter, making me a bit uneasy.
Situation #2: When someone is from a place – lived there most of their lifetime – I expect them to know their way around. Not me figuring it for the both of us.
Situation #3: When a female tells you repeatedly they are not interested in you beyond friendly CONVERSATION, that is simply it. Don’t try and be God, and attempt to change her mind. Its simply a waste. Especially if its me you are dealing with.
Needless to say the early moments of getting to the Canaries were a bit awkward. I was ready to kill Jose with his lack of driving skills, his lack of direction or foresight, and if he tried to kiss me ONE MORE TIME, I swear, I was not going to be only one sounding like a female. I don’t care if he is twice my size, I could take him.
When we got to my apt over looking the sea, I was willing to forgive a lot. When the car deficiencies were behind us and we could get to the little town by the sea for a drink and a bite to eat, I was getting back to my previously relaxed state. We had an enjoyable dinner. Half with him treating me like a patient, half with him selling me on his qualities as a person, and man. He was droning, and exhausting me … and I could care less about his multiple qualities that women 10 YEARS AGO found attractive… I was more concerned with the present, and how quickly we could wrap up this little soiree so I could be off to dreamland and he could be on the bus bound for Santa Cruz.
Unfortunately with Jose nothing is short-winded or brief. He is very expressive and one of those types to repeat things a trillion times to bring emphasis. This is super-annoying to me, as I listen. I don’t need to hear things over and over. I am a quick study. Say it once. I got it. The rest is just wasted breath.
I landed at 5:30PM. We sat down to dinner at 8PM. It was now 11:30PM. I was tired. I did not want to hear anymore about Reiki or the esoteric tradition or how he used to be a womanizer in his custom-made Italian suites. Good for you, Cabrellero, now can we go?
Seriously, this for 4 more days? I pray he has an American work ethic.
Changes in Lattitude, Changes in Attitude
I do find it interesting, the lower the latitude I seek, the more I feel at home. When in the north of Spain, I ran into more “cold” feeling people (at least cold for this hot blooded country). A little more aloof, a little more stand – offish, a little, well, cold. It was in their eyes, their demeanor and their words.
The further south I venture, the more my personal latitude seems to fit in. Its much more casual, friendly, easy-going, and real. None of this pretentious crap I have become used to from my days in NYC.
The accents in the south are a little more like I knew growing up, except the words are Spanish. The dress more casual. The food more fried. The lifestyle more relaxed and laissez-faire.
People have jobs, but only so they can have a life. They like what they do, and most work for themselves so their hours are determined by sunrise and sunset. They take siestas, enjoy preparing meals, and relax.
Southerners seem to know how to breathe. I sense it when I am at my parent's home in Georgia. I sense it in sweet little Ponte Vedra. I sense it everywhere I choose to go but NYC.
People in New York don't want to take time to breathe. They never seem to comtemplate life outside themselves and their jobs. They are glued to cell-phones and blackberries. There, "things" are more important than people. But right now, why should I care? I am not there for the next six weeks. And until then I am going to breathe in and out in slow melodious breaths and let the relaxing southern vibe find me. Now until the day I leave…
But I won't lie, bets are already being made that this Southern Belle is bound for southern existence again, this time on the opposite side of the ocean!
The further south I venture, the more my personal latitude seems to fit in. Its much more casual, friendly, easy-going, and real. None of this pretentious crap I have become used to from my days in NYC.
The accents in the south are a little more like I knew growing up, except the words are Spanish. The dress more casual. The food more fried. The lifestyle more relaxed and laissez-faire.
People have jobs, but only so they can have a life. They like what they do, and most work for themselves so their hours are determined by sunrise and sunset. They take siestas, enjoy preparing meals, and relax.
Southerners seem to know how to breathe. I sense it when I am at my parent's home in Georgia. I sense it in sweet little Ponte Vedra. I sense it everywhere I choose to go but NYC.
People in New York don't want to take time to breathe. They never seem to comtemplate life outside themselves and their jobs. They are glued to cell-phones and blackberries. There, "things" are more important than people. But right now, why should I care? I am not there for the next six weeks. And until then I am going to breathe in and out in slow melodious breaths and let the relaxing southern vibe find me. Now until the day I leave…
But I won't lie, bets are already being made that this Southern Belle is bound for southern existence again, this time on the opposite side of the ocean!
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Sevillian Silliness
When we rolled into Seville on the bus from Rota, I seriously thought I was in MGM or the Spanish Pavillion at EPCOT. It was like a movie set of some sort. Maybe Pleasantville? I know, leave it to the silly American to think she is in Hollywood vs. Andalusia’s capital. It was unreal – crystal blue skies, vividly painted buildings, churches and homes. Lush vegetation. Pristine everything. It truly was amazing. I was in awe, and became sad I was only spending a day in this lovely place. My flight for Tenerife was at 3PM the next day.
We took a cab across the Triana bridge to drop our bags in Miguel’s sisters apt. (she has a bi-city life while working on her PhD in both Cadiz and Seville). We grabbed a bite for breakfast and then we were off to city center to see the Plaza d’Espana and the Alcazar.
Everything was just lovely, perfectly preserved and pristine. So grand.
The Alcazar reminded me much of the Alhambre, so beautiful. We spent a bit trying to find the fountain of Mercury, and it was indeed worth it. Apparently there is another in Italy that I will chase down when there, but this one was quite nice.
As we left and headed to the Cathedral, we grew suspicious as the gates seemed closed and all the school groups were no longer in sight. CLOSED FOR AN EVENT, the sign said. It was 2PM, and that was what we were going to do until we met Miguel’s friends at 5PM.
Well, when plans change, you change with them. And today, Happy Hour was starting early – although from my three weeks here its pretty clear that happy hour is a 24-hour thing in Spain.
So we found San Salvador Plaza and the day of “Rio HAH” began. It was hot, hot, hot and Eline and I had gotten down to our tank tops to catch some rays. Five minutes later, Nacho showed up. (this is his real name, no joke, he also has an uncle Tortilla) He led us to a fantastic little square for more Rio HAH and tapas. After our snack I knew the silliness was just setting in. Eline and I were just having too much fun, and I was glad Miguel now had a side-kick… or else I think he would be ready to give me a side kick, taking his girlfriend away for almost a week now.
We decided to hit El Corte Ingles to grab swimsuits for my pending holiday in the Canaries, and books in English… that was a must. This took way longer than it was supposed to, and when we left the sun was close to setting, and the only direction we had to find the boys was “down this street”. So we walked down this street and Eline stopped in front of a hotel and said “they say they are in here”. We walked into a lobby, with no bar, or anything resembling a social establishment.
The woman sitting behind the desk pointed up, and we suspiciously walked up the stairs to find a terrace bar with Jacuzzi, island drinks and rooftop views of Seville. Perfecto!
We had a few rounds here, which totaled 18 Euro! Everything in Spain is so cheap. Lunch was 6 Euros (for 3), and drinks for 4 were 18. Amazing. I could pick up a lot more checks in Spain, only here the boys insist on doing it. Okay by me!
We then left to meet Miguel’s other friend Antonio, who rides a motorcycle. He turned out to be a very fun guy with a gorgeous smile.
During drinks at some point, Miguel mentioned that I should stay for Semana Santa, that it is the best time in Seville. I had no clue what it was, but I was having so much fun, that I figure why not? I really wanted to be in Venice for Easter but was arriving on Tuesday giving me 6 days in Italy’s sinking city. So… one phone call and 45 Euros later, I am on a flight to Venice on Friday, and staying for all of Semana Santa next week, and getting to spend Easter in Venice. AND getting to see the rest of Seville! It just all worked out perfectly.
The rest of the night became very fuzzy. I am not sure how many more glasses of wine we had. I do remember that at one point I was trying to convince American’s that Eline and I were twins. Coloring wise – maybe. Height wise – nada. (I am 5’4”, she is 6’) There was a Russian singer, and a fire place and a bunch of American frat boys.
I woke up the next morning and was totally Rioja-ed out. Done and done. Truly in need of a break from drinking…hopefully that was what was waiting for me in the Canaries!
Pardon the Interruption
I am back online after a week of Sevillian Silliness and getting lost in Paradise and now back in Seville. I have a TON of stories! Some are quite funny, some a bit maddening, some are just stories of things I have found interesting while traveling. They will all be posted soon as although I have been unable to get online I have been writing in my spare time. I will try to get photos up there too.
I hope everyone is doing well and enjoying the spring weather.
Love,
Paige
I hope everyone is doing well and enjoying the spring weather.
Love,
Paige
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