Madrid, Spain

So, last night Erin and Charlotte dropped me off at the Frankfurt airport and I flew into sunny Madrid. Blessed, blessed, sunny Madrid. How fabulous to be warm again! Which brings me to an inescapable fact–it’s impossible to pack for multi-country journeys. Last year, I packed my Florida gear, knowing that Madrid’s weather would be reasonably comparable to Tampa’s, and I froze to death in Copenhagen and Amsterdam. This year, I pack “autumn” style, which means I’m cold in Germany and hot in Spain. *sigh*

Today, I spend most of the day working (seriously–I spent a good 10 hours glued to my laptop) although I did escape long enough to make two trips.

One was to Plaza Mayor, which was a little disappointing. Now that there’s a big focus on safety and law-abiding, there’s police patrolling everywhere, which means the “vendors” I had counted on encountering were nowhere to be found. Last year, as soon as the sun set, the stone streets leading to the plaza were crowded with vendors hawking their wares on small (1 meter x 1 meter) squares of cloth, around which looped a length of yarn. When the police would show up (once every hour or two), they’d yank on the yarn, which would close the square of fabric into a little bundle, trapping their merchandise inside. The vendors would then scamper off, a knapsack on their back (or whatever). The plaza was the best place to get things on the cheap, from knock-off designer goods to souvenirs for a euro. Now, however, the whole place was empty, which took away from the carnival-esque vibe I’d remembered, complete with street performers such as clowns on stilts and mimes.

In any case, I hadn’t come to the Plaza to buy postcards and painted fans. (Which is a good thing, since I would’ve had to buy them in one of the zillion actual *stores*, at retail price!) Nope, I was in the market for shoes.

That’s right–shoes.

Last year, while in Spain, I couldn’t help but notice that all the women wore the same general style of shoe. I thought they were cute–they reminded me of ballet shoes with straps, and came in a variety of styles, colors, and materials. I meant to buy some and never did (thanks to my anti-shopping mentality) so this time I plan to rectify that error. Also, Erin was interested in knowing what kind of shoe I was talking about (since that description really doesn’t do it justice) so I promised to email her some digital photos and ship her a pair if she saw something she liked. For your viewing enjoyment, I’m attaching a few of the shoe photos here… although I can’t bring back shoes for everyone! (And men in the crowd: I’m afraid these only come in ladies’ sizes. Sorry!)

The other stop was for food, when I went to Pans & Co (pan=bread, not pan like a skillet) where I got the Greek bocadillo, which is a sandwich made of tomatoes, slabs of thick, fresh cheese, and bread that reminds me in shape and consistency of French bread, except that it’s only about a foot long and not quite as big around. The whole thing cost about two fifty–a bargain!

Keeping with that theme, I want your food stories. If it was cheap, delicious, bizarre, surprising, whatever–I want to hear it. (Reminds me of the Simpson’s episode, when Gramps comes home looking like he took a swim through through a toxic waste dump. Marge says, “What happened to him??” and Homer shrugs and answers, “He fell down at the Big Boy.”)

Tags: food, shopping

From Spain to Germany

This morning I woke up, scarfed down a croissant (OK, two croissants), snapped a photo of the lovely construction view from my balcony, and headed for the Madrid airport. The airport is massive. I was in Terminal 4, which has sections A through K (maybe more, I was in J so that’s as far as I went) and each letter has a slew of… I don’t know the word. Every time I come to Europe, I forget English. A slew of… places where you board a plane. (Gates?)

Anyway, I bought my ticket online from home. I unfold my printout from the web site confirmation and the printout of the emailed e-ticket, and suddenly I happen to notice that both items, in big, bold, capital letters, say: “Credit Card used in this purchase MUST BE PRESENTED in order to receive boarding pass and board flight.”

Oops. I totally didn’t bring that card. It charges me massive international fees for every overseas transaction (I found this out the hard way last year, once I came home and saw my account statements) so I left it at home. Naturally, I need to board this airline 4 different times… <>

So, I go to the ticketing counter, full of trepidation, but the guy serving me is so blessedly clueless, he doesn’t even ask about it. He did ask whether I preferred window or aisle, I said window, he said window, and printed me a ticket for aisle. I can only hope to have similar help the next 3 times!

The plane ride was uneventful, for the most part. Air Iberia gives out free newspapers, which was cool, but you have to pay for your own food and drink if you want water and peanuts. (They do have other offerings… It’s a whole food cart that comes down the aisle at least twice.) Being both poor and cheap, I just sat there, reading my paper, and chewed a piece of gum.

In this paper (which, bizarrely, used *other* newspaper articles as its primary sources) there was an article about how 1 out of every 10 British 20-somethings and 1 out of every 20 older British adults are eager to have credit card chips implanted under their skin so they don’t have to mess with a purse/wallet and the potential for identity theft and pickpocketing. According to El Universal (the paper), already testing has been underway for some time, using dogs and cats and horses. (Who, I’m sure, are big shoppers and appreciate the experiment.)

Once I arrived in Frankfurt, I zipped through to baggage claim (intra-EU flights don’t have to go through customs, although–also bizarrely–this was set up as honor system, with one line for people going through customs and the other for people not wanting to go through customs) and met up with Erin. Yay!

We drove the ~1 hour south to Kaiserslautern (known by the locals as K-town) near the Rammstein Air Force Base. I dropped off my luggage in Erin’s spare room, and we wandered around K-town for a couple hours, sightseeing and just generally hanging out. We rounded out the night in a restaurant called Himalaya (nothing says Germany quite like Indian food!) where I got saag paneer (my favorite) and Erin got what the menu described as “typical Nepali chicken”. We have no idea what that means, but she said it was delicious. So there you go.

Tags: airplanes, airports, food, random facts & history, shopping

Madrid, Spain

Still in sunny Madrid this morning, although the weather is not quite as warm as yesterday. I didn’t get a chance to look it up, but I’m guessing low 70s F. I actually wore my fleece this morning on my walk to the Metro, but not much throughout the rest of the day. I’m guessing I’ll get more use out of my wintry clothes over the next couple weeks.

So, today I started out with a hotel-provided breakfast of croissants and cheese slices. I forgot all about the cheese slices on a plate until I saw them this morning, and it made me laugh. It’s some kind of cheese that I don’t know, sliced in a square like Kraft Singles but it’s the color of Swiss (minus holes) and cut super thin. Next I went to the Atocha train station to reserve my tickets and then realized I hadn’t brought my Eurail pass with me. (oops.) So I came back, swung by El Corte Ingles to get some band aids for my ampollos and then up to the room (4th floor) to get my Eurail pass and my mp3 player.

At Atocha (which looks like Jurassic Park inside–very cool) I stood in a long, long line, but not as horrendous as last night, which is good. I was able to get most of my tickets except for Italy and a couple for France, so that’s one hassle mostly hurdled. I then decided to walk to el Museo del Prado and spend all day looking at art with a rented audioguide, but… on my way I passed the sidewalk sale. Those of you who know me well know that I’d rather stick my head in an oven than go shopping, but this was a sidewalk sale of *books*. Books, I tell you! I absolutely, positively, cannot be trusted around books. I think I bought some from every single vendor. I had to throw out all my clothes just to pack them in my suitcase, and it’s only the 3rd day. (OK, I didn’t throw out all my clothes… but that’s the choice I would’ve made if it came to that.) How could I pass it up? Some English-language authors like Robin Cook and Stephanie Bond (translated into Spanish of course) and a ton of Spanish authors, and some from other countries.

So, when I finally made it the half-mile or so to the Prado Museum, my shoulder was already weighed down with more or less my body weight in books. (Or at least it felt that way.) Instead of spending all day at the museum (the beginning hour or so of which was spent book browsing) I stayed until about 5pm (rather than 7:30) before I gave up. I’ll come back in a couple weeks, maybe. (It’s free on Sundays, although more crowded.)

The weird thing about being in Madrid is that although I’m toting the camera everywhere I go, I’m hardly taking any pictures. I’ve been pretty much everywhere (and documented 99% of it on film previously) so there’s no real reason to take yet *another* picture of XYZ statue or ABC fountain. I did notice that the entire city is under major construction (Retiro Park says they’ll be done in 4 months, not sure about the people re-bricking the streets) so I’m interested in coming back in another year or two and seeing the upgrades. I did get to ride in a brand spanking new Metro train, the sort where you can see from one end all the way down to the other end, rather than boxed off cars.

I met some people from Oregon who were in Madrid by way of Ireland, and who told me that people from Edinburgh call people from Glasgow “soap dodgers” (which is a hilarious insult) due to their alleged stinkiness, and that Glasgow is the 2nd most likely place in the world to get stabbed. (#1 is some place in South Africa.) Apparently, gang members in track suits strap machetes to their thighs and stab people–rival gang members and ignorant tourists alike–who wander into their ‘hoods. And these ‘hoods aren’t your typical ghetto… they’ve been razed and replaced with government housing in the form of the tallest skyscrapers in Ireland. So the people on the street basically don’t go near tall buildings, because if they do, they’ll be stabbed. (If I decide to tour Glasgow someday, I’m guessing I better not pack a track suit.)

After all that fun, I came back to the hotel and did some work because tomorrow morning I get up nice and early so I can fly to Frankfurt to see Erin!

Tags: books, food, museums, trains, travel tips

Gooooood Morning, Madrid!

OK, so technically I didn’t sleep. It’s a good morning anyway!

I went to El Corte Ingles about a hundred times, mostly because it just has everything. And at the Metro stop where I am (Sol) there’s 3, count ‘em, 3 Cortes Ingleses. One has a main floor, 7 upper floors, and 2 basements. That’s the one that has the post office (I mailed a post card) the supermercado (I bought some cheese and melocoton juice) and the travel agency (I got an adaptor for my laptop ’cause I have no clue what happened to the last one.) Not the converter thing–my laptop has its own. Just the do-hickey that changes the plug from flat-prong to round-prong. And I had a devil of a time describing it, because I totally don’t know the word for “prong”. So I picked up a European plug, pointed to the round metal prongs, and said (en espanol, of course) What do you call these here thingamabobbers? And the cashier blinked, squinted, shrugged, and said, “I don’t know.” So I said, “I don’t know either, but mine are flat and I need an adapter to make them round.” And he said ohhhhhh and gave me the right thing. So I’m fine now.

At the other Corte I bought a AA battery charger, because the last two times I brought a US one, I fried them on accident. Figured I might as well suck it up and get a European one so I don’t have to worry about it. The 3rd Corte is a massive bookstore, which I’m pretty sure I’m not allowed to go inside, since the last time I did, Bri and I ended up paying exorbitant “your suitcase is too heavy–what the hell do you have in there?” fees at the Charles de Gaulle (Paris) Airport.

None of these trips happened at the same time, of course, so the sales force got to see me return again and again and again. That’s all right. They’ll probably see me tomorrow too.

Today I hiked down the road that my hotel is on until the road ended (2.5 mi) and back. That was fun, but I realized belatedly that my hiking shoes are all ripped up on the inside (how does that happen?) and now the backs of my heels are threatening to get blisters. No matter! Blisters or no blisters, a-hiking I will go. El Corte Ingles has a parafarmacia stocked with bandaids, so I’ll be just fine. (Toldja they’d see me tomorrow.)

I also wasted some time going to Atocha at about 7pm. This was stupid of me and I should’ve known better. I was thinking, “Oh, I’ll reserve my train tickets in advance like a good girl” when I should’ve been thinking, “Everyone’s out of work by now, bet the train station is *crazy town*.” You have no idea how packed that place gets. Especially since I’ve stood in that monstrous line before. Well, I got there and took a number from the paper number distributor dealy, and I got A410. I waited for 15 excruciating minutes while they helped A198, A199, A200 and A201. I was still 209 numbers away. At 3 minutes per person (which is *fast*), that would be something like 10 hours to wait. So I left. I’ll try tomorrow. I’m a little disappointed, because my initial plan was to get to El Museo Del Prado first thing in the a.m. and now it looks like I’ll be trucking over to Atocha instead. Oh well. As long as they can beat a 10 hour wait, who am I to complain. =)

Plaza Mayor is the same as I remembered–pretty, and somehow both busy and relaxed at the same time. However, the place where I got my SIM card last time was no longer there. (I wandered around every side street for an hour or two before I finally conceded its disappearance.) I was forced to go to the FNAC and switch my plan from Avena to Movistar. (pronounced “movie star”.) But at least now I can call the US even if I don’t have an Internet connection, so that’s a good thing. (And with an internet connection, Skype is a good thing!)

Now I’m sleepy, but I’m trying to stay up until at least 10 so I can keep a decent schedule, and maybe wake up without my alarm clock.

Tags: hiking, lost in translation, shopping, technology, trains

International Travel (& Madrid!)

Since I know it’s the main question on everyone’s mind, here’s the answer you’ve all been waiting for: Yes, I was able to take Purell on the airplane.

The guy in front of me in the security line got searched and they confiscated his aloe vera and inspected a bunch of other things, but I had no problems.

So now I’m on the plane from Tampa to JFK (NYC). My ticket said plain old Delta, but this was a “Song” plane, with the nice seats and adjustable individual movie screens and in-flight trivia. (I had 100% accuracy for three whole questions and then I missed the next four or five. Shoulda quit when I was ahead.)

The flight attendants head down the aisle with the drink cart, selling pink lemonade and pink martinis in honor of Breast Cancer Awareness month. Just as they are about to approach my row, this girl staggers up the aisle. (Yes, staggers.) My first thought was maybe she’d had a pink martini too many, because she had that I-can-barely-stand-up drunken gait. Just as she reached my aisle, she collapsed and pitched forward. The flight attendants jerked the drink cart backward so that she didn’t crack her head against the metal corners, and the girl tumbled to the ground unconscious. When they couldn’t get her to respond, they picked up the intercom phone (also right in front of me) and asked for any medical personnel to come forward. That brought a cattle-herd of rubberneckers more than anything, but there were a few legitimate nurses and EMTs that tried to help her. Another flight attendant ran for the oxygen, and that finally revived the girl. So then the flight attendants bumped the people in the row across from me up to first class so that they could lay the girl down flat. She stayed there the rest of the flight. (And me? No drinks, and no first class. <<sob>>)

Once I reached the JFK Airport, I wandered around looking for my gate. The flight attendant gave me a vague “that way” gesture when I asked, and the gate did turn out to be that way… Just down about a mile and a half. Along the way, I started noticing dollar massage chairs peppering the terminals. I made it about halfway down the hall before I caved and plopped onto a chair. (I didn’t give $1. I gave $5. Why have 3 minutes of massage when you can have 15??) The massage chairs are situated in 2 sets of 2, and my expression must have been particularly relaxed (or blissful) because people would look at the empty chair, look at me in my chair, and then fish in their wallet/purse for change. I should’ve got commission for that.

After a lovely 3.5 hour layover <<eye rolling>> I finally get on the plane for Madrid. Let me just say that I was not impressed. The seats were close and uncomfortable, we were too far to one side to see the single TV screen for our cabin (which at least worked, even if I couldn’t see it… Of the other 4 screens throughout the plane, 1 was too orangey, 1 was too greenish, 1 flickered in and out of black & white, and the other just did some red wavy lava-lamp-ish thing.) Oh, and there was no adjustable headrest. Or eye masks. Oh, and the light switches were wired wrong on our seats, so when I hit the light bulb button on my armrest, he was hit with the spotlight, and vice versa. Fun fun. (Can you *feel* the bitterness???)

Pretty much the only interesting thing that happened on that leg of the flight was when I almost didn’t get a customs form. I reached for it and the flight attendant jerked it away and said, “Españoles no.” (Not for Spaniards.) Oh, and the guy next to me was an Iranian New Yorker who ordered kosher food. For breakfast they brought both of us ham & cheese croissants. (Obviously neither kosher nor vegetarian.) They did realize their mistake before we started screaming in horror (although it was close: I’d unwrapped mine and he’d almost taken a bite) and gave us shiny new breakfasts. (Cold bagels and OJ.)

And then, THEN, I finally land in Madrid! Yay! My favorite city in maybe the whole world! (I say maybe since I haven’t actually been in every city in the world. I’m not even sure such a feat would be possible.) I check in to my room (which won’t be ready until 1pm although I was free to leave my bags, which I did) and head outside. My hotel is in the Puerta del Sol, right across from a vegetarian restaurant (good!) and major construction (bad!).

Right now it’s siesta time, and I’m sitting on my bed with my laptop listening to the calm, soothing sounds of jackhammers in concrete and bulldozers beeping to back up. I hope this doesn’t go on during the night… Yuck.

So, what was that smack I was talking about how cold it might be here? When I walked outside, it was 23C, or about 79F. I was wearing layers. First thing I did (okay, third, since the first two were Hit the ATM and Buy a Metro Ticket) was take off my fleece sweatshirt. The weather is unbelievable right now. Warm, sunny, beautiful. Since I had some time to kill (I checked in at 10am) I headed down Calle Arenal to Retiro Park, a sprawling mass of trees and flowers and playgrounds and statues and lakes and benches and fountains. Even one of the Devil, as the angel falling from the skies to the waiting demons below. Madrid claims it’s the only park in the world with a fountain depicting good old Lucifer. (No one has ever disputed this claim, so it may well be true.)

OK, till next time!

~ERiCA

Tags: airplanes, airports

Barcelona, Spain

Today we went to Park Guell, another of Antoni Gaudi’s melty, Seussian masterpieces, which was a lot of fun. It’s a bit of a hike from the train stop, but well worth it. The towers and mosaics were colorful and asymmetric and just plain fun to look at. Some of the buildings even reminded me of gingerbread houses.

Deep inside the park is the Gaudi house, which we got to tour. It’s a pink, layered concoction stuffed with antique furniture and original artwork, including Gaudi’s initial designs for La Sagrada Familia.

There was some sort of religious celebration going on in the park as well. A lot of people grouped in a large circle and sang songs. Other people woke up from their sleeping bags (no tents) and got up to join the celebration with music, chanting, and dancing.

Tags: festivals & fiestas, museums

Barcelona, Spain

Yay! Today is the day I’ve been waiting for. We finally got to go check out La Sagrada Familia. If you’re going to be in Barcelona for the first time, let me quickly state two facts.

1) You must see La Sagrada Familia. It is not to be missed.
2) There is nothing else around it. Pack some water/snacks.

We were just as amazed and horrified by this massive, melting monstrosity as I had hoped and feared. It has tall, jutting peaks dripping Gothic elements like wax from a burning candle.

Most people who see La Sagrada Familia either love it or hate it. I thought it was cool. Bri did not. I find Gaudi’s architecture to be an intriguing clash between Salvador Dali and M. C. Esher. You gotta see it to believe it.

This building was also undergoing renovations, so I definitely hope to make it back out here and see it without bright yellow cranes obstructing my view.

Tags: cathedrals, travel tips

Barcelona, Spain

This morning, we went to the Barcelona Zoo, where we had the most amazing zoo experience of our lives. (Despite the fact that the white gorilla featured prominently in all the signs had deceased some years past.)

We saw emus running amuk with zebras, flamingoes hanging out with peacocks, a gazillion antelopey things, a few meerkaty things, some other things that I’m not really sure what they were, (what can I say? The signage was in Catalan, not Spanish), a variety of bison, elephants, giraffes, leopards, lions, monkeys, iguanas, aligators and crocodiles, turtles, rhinocerous(es), etc.

I also saw a vulture bite the head off of a live baby chick and carry the decapitated head around in his beak, dripping blood. Yeah, you heard me. And yes, although cool in a Discovery Channel sort of way, it was every bit as gross as it sounds.

As crazy as it sounds, we also saw a bear drink from a plastic bottle of Coke, and two hippopotami (hippopotamouses?) start a round of mud wrestling, followed by some heaving making out. Yes, that’s right, we saw hippos FIGHTING and KISSING. I told you this was a crazy day.

We rounded out the evening at Las Ramblas, a long strip of food, shopping, and unapologetic people-watching. We walked down to the water, where we saw the Mirador de Colon (Columbus Monument) and bought a Barcelona Dragons fútbol (soccer) jersey.

Tags: animals, shopping

Barcelona, Spain

Last night, we hopped on the overnight train from Paris to Barcelona. Allegedly, they were first class tickets, which everywhere else in Europe meant a cabin, but on this train apparently just meant a comfortable chair. Well lemme tell ya, no chair is comfortable for 11 solid hours. The first thing we did when we arrived was to book a first class CABIN for the ride back.

Our hotel was right by the Arc de Triomf (yes, spelled like that–the Catalán instead of Castellano kept tripping me up, too) so that was one of the first sights we saw.

Next we went to the Art Museum which looked more like a palace than anything. One of the current exhibions was of fairies, and reminded us of our friend Margarita in Cincinnati. Wish she could’ve seen it. The Place Espanya was neat and gave a nice view. I could see La Sagrada Familia in the distance and it totally whet my appetite for Gaudí archetecture. I cannot wait to see it up close.

We went to the Poble Espanyol, which let me just say was AWESOME. If you ever get to Barcelona, you must check it out. It’s a massive, sprawling trip backward through time, representing various cities in Spain’s past. We had a delicious dinner and left when it was dark, only to come across a wicked cool fountain light show.

Tags: museums, theme parks, trains, travel tips

Madrid, Spain to Paris, France

I woke up, did my last load of laundry for a while, packed my bags, and boarded the bus for the airport. At the airport, my bags were too heavy, so I had to pay a fee, but what do you do when you’ve got all your stuff with you and you’re on your way to Paris.

Our flight took off about 40 minutes late, so we arrived a good half hour after planned. We picked up our luggage and bussed to our hotel: Novotel in La Defense, the very last stop on metro line yellow one, and (we were to learn later) technically not within Paris proper.

The first adventure of the day was discovering that I had someone I didn’t know for a roomate, and that the hotel rooms had a single king size bed, so we would be sharing.

I found Alison, and we were starving since the airline didn’t serve vegetarian meals, so we headed out to find some grub.

We took the Metro, and ended up next to a mother and her daughter. The little girl asked us, “Are you Americans?” and before we could answer, the mother said, “Isn’t it obvious?” (!!!)

Ali and I got off the Metro at the CDG exit (not the airport, but the exit) and when we walked up the stairs to street level, we were instantly rewarded with a view of the Arc de Triomphe. We walked around looking for a cafe, and we ran into Bryan, Paula, and Lindsay. (Weird how I keep running into people I know in such large cities. I *never* randomly run into people I know back in Tampa!)

We found a cafe and ordered some food and some water. We downed the first carafe in no time, and I taught Alison how to say “more water, please” so she could ask for it when the waiter returned. (She cracked me up by repeating it over and over.)

Once we sated our hunger a bit (I got salad and 4 fresh cheeses, none of which I recognized, all of which were good) we explored the Arc de Triomphe and had fun trying to find the perfect spot for a photograph.

All this photography worked up an appetite (yes, *again*) and we realized what we REALLY needed were some crepes. We found outdoor seating at a cafe on Champs Elysees and ordered up the most delicious crepes I’ve ever had. They were topped with ice cream and chocolate syrup! (Probably Nutella–Paris is huge on Nutella.)

Something funny: there are lots of ads in the metro stops for McDonald’s, but here it’s called McDo.

Tags: airplanes, airports, food