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

Pre-Adventure Preparations

Are you ready? Here comes another adventure!

As some of you may know, I leave first thing in the morning for sunny Madrid. At least, I hope it’s sunny. Because it’s October weather everywhere but Florida, I’m packing for winter. (See? I wised up from last time. No more flip flops and goosebumps.)

As you may know–or guessed–I’ve been packed for weeks now. I only had to unpack my shoes twice (my birthday this past weekend and my yay-I-finished-another-novel celebratory dinner) and tonight I tossed in all my client files (can’t forget that all my “vacations” are working vacations!) and… some Purell.Chances are good the FAA has determined Purell to be a flight safety hazard or some such, but I’ll give it a try. (Just keeping you in the loop on my hand sanitization. I know you’ve been dying to know.)

That’s all for now… Just wanted to give a heads up that the adventure officially begins tomorrow morning, although who knows when I’ll be able to hook up my laptop to the Internet!

Till next time,

~ERiCA

P.S. If you have any words of wisdom on what to do (or not do) while seeing the sights (esp. France and Northern Italy) now’s the time to share… I won’t finalize my train itinerary until after I land, and I’d love to have your input! =)

Tags: packing

Norfolk, VA

Well, today we woke up at the crack of automated wake-up call and groggily set about showering up and loading the car. We’d unanimously agreed that *of course* we could somehow be much faster this morning, so the wake up call gave us a half an hour more sleep… for a grand total of six and a half hours.

Amazingly, we were up, ready, packed, breakfasted, and on the road by ten minutes til eight, which was actually ten whole minutes before schedule. Turned out we needed those ten minutes and then some – when I’d indulged in that extra half hour of sleep, I’d totally forgotten to take rush hour traffic into account.

We sailed out of Williamsburg and onto the highway, where we were greeted with an ever-growing sea of brake lights. Eventually, the two lanes widened into four (on each side) and we had the good fortune to be the only car in the HOV lane for a good 15 minutes… until the HOV lane ended and the highway went from four lanes… to three… to two… to construction… to Check Gas – 3 Mile Tunnel Ahead.

Yeah, that’s right.

As always in such circumstances, traffic ground to a halt (except for the jerks who fly around the exit only lanes to cut back in, one–maybe two–cars ahead of where they were in the first place) but we were able to see massive ships (with their own skylines, they were so big! We thought it was land at first.) and experience driving through a 3 mile tunnel.

On the other side, traffic picked back up to normal speed and we made it to Norfolk only slightly behind schedule. My second-biggest concern at this time was filling up the rental car with gas so that I didn’t have to cash in an IRA or anything to pay the crazy Ha-ha!-You-sucker!-You-didn’t-fill-your-tank-and-now-you-owe-us-your-life! fees. My first-biggest concern was that the hotel didn’t have an available printer, so we were unable to check-in online ahead of time for our flight.

If you’ve never flown Southwest, this may mean nothing to you. So what? you say. Just check in at the airport, like normal people, you say. Ha! I snort in your general direction. =) Actually, Southwest is a little different. (Haven’t you ever seen the truly frightening television show “Airline”???)

First of all, there are no assigned seats. There being three of us (one a minor, one with motion sickness and a slight fear of flying, and one being me and in charge of everything,) I really wanted us all together.

To get on the plane, people are categorized in three groups – A, B, and C. First, people with children or wheelchairs board – and sit anywhere they want. Next, the entire A group boards – and plops down anywhere *they* want. Then B, and last C.

Near as anyone can tell, Southwest assigns groups based on the order of check-in. First they fill up the A group, then the B group, and so on. Therefore, checking in online 24 hours in advance is a clear advantage… and one we didn’t have, since by my watch the plane would board in less than an hour and a half.

So, I gassed up the car, rolled into the airport, and pulled into the Enterprise lot. A twenty-something girl – quite possibly the most sourfaced, snarky person on the planet – greeted us with a scowl.

She held out her hand as I stepped out of the car. I must’ve hesitated a moment too long, because she finally spoke. “Can I *have* the keys?”

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “I didn’t know what you were reaching for.”

She rolled her eyes and tapped her handheld PDA-thing. “Where’s the paperwork?”

“Oh, crap,” I answered. “It’s in my suitcase. Give me a sec and I’ll get that out for you… unless you can hunt me up in that computer?”

She scowled. “You should *always* have it on you. ALWAYS.”

“You’re right, it’s not on me, although it is *with* me… Let me pop the trunk and I’ll get out my suitcase…” I pop the trunk and the boys start unloading the back.

She taps into her PDA. “Ridley?”

“Yes.”

“Erica?”

“Yes.”

“You’re returning the car?”

??? “Yes.”

She sniffs and starts walking away.

“So…” I start trailing after her. “Since you found me in the computer, do you still need to see that paperwork?”

She stalks further around the car without responding.

I stop moving and try again. “Do you need the paperwork still?”

She tosses her head. “I’m LOOKING for DAMAGE.”

Er, okay. “But do you need the paperwork? If you do, I’ll be glad to get it. If you don’t, we’ll get our bags out of your way and-”

“Just go past the building on the right and walk to the terminal.”

Okay, then.

What a ray of sunshine. On that cheery note, the boys and I glanced at each other and silently agreed that further conversation would be useless. We grabbed our bags and headed out of there before Miss Personality changed her mind.

Once we made it inside the airport, we quickly discovered that we were at the furthest possible point from the Southwest counter. (It was at the diagonal opposite of the airport, but of course you can’t cross an airport diagonally, so we had some fun sprinting with suitcases.)

I had had the foresight to sign my brothers up with Southwest frequent flyer numbers (knowing that nearly always gives preferential treatment at any airline) and somehow we managed to land a B, and escape the dreaded C group.

Our flight from Norfolk, Virginia to Indianapolis, Indiana was fairly uneventful (except for a random pitstop in Baltimore) and my parents met us three yards from the security exit. We headed straight home, except for stopping at Steak and Shake, where nobody got steak but everybody got shakes, except my dad, who got coffee. (Mine was a Caramel Mocha Macchiato… dee-lish)

And that, my friends, rounded out our adventure!

Tags: airports, road trip

Williamsburg, VA

Today, we got up and breakfasted before we split ways – me to the hotel room to do work on my laptop, Andy and Rob to Colonial Williamsburg so Rob could see the reenactment he missed on Tuesday.

Around noon, the boys rolled back into the hotel room, ten shades of hot and sweaty, collapsing on the beds and panting like dogs. Andy managed to explain that they didn’t get to see the Reenactment because tickets were required ($34 per adult is the smallest Williamsburg ticket deal) and Rob begged me to check the Weather Channel’s web site to get the current temp. Verdict? 92 degrees, with a heat index of 103. Yikes. No wonder they were hot! I tossed each of them a water bottle, glad that I’d sent them off with water bottles in the first place, and asked them if they wanted to hang out in the pool. No, they said. It was too hot to walk the hundred yards from the room to the indoor pool. Poor things. (At least they got ice cream while they were out – all I’ve got is a half-smushed granola bar.)

While the boys melted into their mattresses, both of them glued to the Discovery channel followed by Law & Order, followed by Who Wants to be a Millionaire and Cash Cab, etc, I sat with my laptop getting a ton of stuff done – until the hotel Internet flaked out and died. I called to complain and of course the only person who could decipher my cryptic message (”please reboot your router”) was out to lunch, so I took off for the Food Lion and loaded up on bagel-chips and hummus. Rob seemed to think the hummus was radioactive, but Andy and I took care of the entire tub in record time. By then, the Internet connection was up and running again and I was able to get a lot of my work uploaded, to my intense relief.

Later, we hit the IHOP for supper and went to the movies to see Pirates of the Carribbean before coming back to the hotel room to pack up. The wake-up call comes at 6:00 am – wish us luck!! =)

Tags: food

Williamsburg, VA

Today we slept in a half an hour later (look out, it’s 8:00!), ate some breakfast, and headed down the road (in a car this time, not on foot) to Busch Gardens. After paying $10 to park in Italy section, row 1 (you wanted to know, right?) we gripped our e-tickets in hand and headed for the turnstiles.

The place was packed, but somehow the lines we chose were rarely longer than half an hour. Rob and I rode all 4 of the roller coasters (Apollo’s Chariot twice) and test-rode DarKastle for Andy, who has… motion sensitivities. After deeming it Andy-safe, we text messaged him and he met us at the entrance so we could all ride together. DarKastle was an extremely cool ride: a haunted gothic castle (modeled after the Storybook Castle in Bavaria) in the moving-car 4-D style like the Spiderman ride in Universal Orlando. I highly recommend.

The Loch Ness Monster was the first coaster with interlocking loops (a la chain-link) and I have to admit, it’s getting pretty fogey-ish. Bri’s afraid they’ll tear it down before he gets a chance to ride it. It was the one ride that scared Rob and I to death – they slowed us to a crawl before we took the first loop (the sky cars were flying past us, and those go .5 miles an hour) and we were afraid there wouldn’t be any G-force to keep the train on the track or us in the seats. We did make it to the end alive, although we didn’t go back to tempt fate a second time.

As for other 4-D adventures besides DarKastle, we also did Corkscrew Hill in the Ireland section, as well as the Pirate adventure in England, starring Leslie Nielsen and Eric Idle. (If you recognize either of those names, then you know how chock-full of silly fun that one was.)

Rob and I got soaked on a water ride called Escape From Pompeii, and the three of us checked out the animals… namely, Busch Garden’s famous Clydesdale horses, a donkey named Zipper, several bald eagles, and some wolves.

We rounded out the evening at the night show called Kinetix, featuring rock music and acrobatics, like the balancing-upside-down-on-a-small-pole thing (common with Chinese Acrobats, if you don’t know what I’m talking about but have seen that) and the flipping-through-the-air-on-long-ribbon-ish-curtain-thingies (as seen in Cirque du Soleil’s La Nouba) and the super fun-looking flying-around-barely-missing-each-other-on-extra-bouncy-trampoline thing, which is one of my all-time favorites.

Last but not least, let me share with you a sampler of the heat-induced conversations we were having… (It was 90+ in the shade).

Erica, waiting in line for 4-D ride: So, Andy. What are the top 3 best things about being Andy?
Andy, without even blinking: Sim City 4 Rush Hour Expansion Pack, learning about history, and… driving.

[cut to next scene]

Erica, waiting in line for coaster: Know what? You’re pretty fun, Rob.
Rob, nodding in agreement: I know.
Erica, stifling laughter: Yeah? What’s so fun about being Rob?
Rob, after thinking a moment: Riding roller coasters. And chocolate-flavored laxatives. They both give me a rush.

And with that thought…

Tags: animals, theme parks

Colonial Williamsburg

This morning we got up, got ready, and got breakfast… and then Rob got sick, so he stayed in the hotel room to get some sleep while Andy and I headed for Colonial Williamsburg.

The majority of the buildings are from the 1700s, and the costumed inhabitants are pleased to share their knowledge with anyone who asks questions. Most of the larger structures, such as the foundry, the magazine, and big estates, also have guided tours to explain what you see and what life was like here in Virginia in the 18th century.

Andy and I were wandering aimlessly down one of the streets, when a woman stopped us to ask if we were on our way to the reenactment. Reenactment? We had no idea. She said if we kept walking in the direction we were going, we’d run smack into it, and that’s what we did. We reached the the Capitol building at 10:45 am, July 25, 1776, just in time to hear the Declaration of Independence read to an excited mob of 18th century Virginians.

The reenactment took place at several different locations, each in its own “time”, at a key point in history. When the actors weren’t acting their scenes, they stayed in character and would answer questions as if they were living in that exact moment. For example, one actor, Wil, a thirty-something black slave, was thrilled to hear the Declaration in 1776 because he thought freedom was around the corner. A couple “years” later, he realized that freedom only applied to the states as separate from England, not for slaves. He later debated running away to join the British troops, who offered “freedom” to slaves who fought on their side. A year later, one of Williamsburg’s trusted allies – Benedict Arnold – swoops in to seize the city.

The (very interactive) reenactment continued in this vein until General Washington himself rode in to announce the good news that the war was ending, and set off toward Yorktown and victory. Pretty cool.

Andy and I toured the magazine, which housed all the guns and ammo, and the foundry, where its workers were busy silversmithing and… pewtersmithing?

Next, we swung by the hotel to check on Rob, who had just woken up and was feeling much better, so we walked back to the old town and had a bite to eat before taking more tours.

We rounded out the night with some good old-fashioned Japanese cooking on the habachi grill… Rob took to chopsticks like a fish to water, but apparently Andy’s chopstick skills looked a little shaky, because the hostess ran back to our table with a pair of training chopsticks for him. Andy took one look at the rubber-banded training chopsticks and refused to use them, determined to master the real deal, which he did.

He also had an opportunity to stop, drop, and roll, when one of the chef’s tricks turned out to be setting the table on “fire” and Andy thought the whole place was going to blow. He leapt and ducked and was a good sport when everybody cracked up, and the rest of the tricks (knife-catching, shaker-tossing, flaming onion volcano, etc) unfolded without a hitch.

Tags: food, reenactments

Richmond, Virginia to Williamsburg, Virginia

Today we woke up and went to the hotel continental breakfast. Allegedly, it was open until 9, but at 5 minutes til the hour, the hotel employee ran around locking things in cabinets and blocking access to the microwave. She even scowled over my shoulder, key in hand, while I refilled my apple juice, and lurked around the rest of the (crowded) breakfast area.

We packed up the car and checked out (semi-full) and headed out for our first destination – the Science Museum of Virginia (Rob’s pick). Outside the entrance way was a 70-ton granite sculpture of the earth, soon to be rolled on its correct orbit by the boys. The museum was exceptionally interactive, and we spent a couple hours wandering around, playing with all the experiments. One of my faves was the special chamber where you could watch unstable atoms exploding. That was pretty cool.

Afterwards, we headed to downtown Richmond for the Edgar Allan Poe museum. I jabbed at the doorbell before I realized the sign said closed on Mondays (oops) but the caretaker happened to be home and gave us a mini-private tour of the gardens and one of the buildings. We got to see several original documents as well as several pairs of Poe’s fashionable stockings.

We next set to wandering downtown, heading past the St. Paul Church, Capitol Square Park, the (old) Governor’s Mansion, and several historical buildings. (The boys pointed out the secret symbol hidden in the FedEx logo and discovered another in the DHL truck… photos attached.) We also snacked at City Hall (Andy got a massive Dr Pepper, Rob got cookies, and I got a Ghirardelli square because I know what’s good) before taking the elevator all the way up to the Observation Deck for a look around the city skyline.

Last but not least, we managed to get ourselves horribly lost (followed by wonderfully un-lost) and randomly in front of the Confederacy Museum (which is what we were looking for in the first place when we got lost.) True to form, when we finally broke down and asked directions for it, we were 30 yards from it.

One of the stranger things about the Civil War (to me) was the black soldiers in the military, fighting for the South. The white soldiers didn’t want to fight next to black soldiers because they were uppity bigots and all, so I get that part, but why would black soldiers want to fight for the side that perpetuated slavery???

After that, we piled into the car and headed for Williamsburg, about an hour or so away. Our hotel (the Historic York Street Inn) is conveniently located within walking distance of the main colonial section, and we headed right over to eat dinner and see the sights.

Colonial Williamsburg is filled with 88 of the original early 1700’s homes and buildings, and many more restored ones. Costumed, in-character people man the apothecaries and foundries, give tours of the estates, and so on. However… we did eat dinner just outside the colonial district in an Italian joint, featuring throughly modern pizza, grinders, and Coca-Cola.

Tags: food, lost, museums

Washington, DC to Richmond, Virginia

So, this morning (being both Sunday and downtown) not much was open in the way of breakfast. We rolled out of bed around 7:30 and decided to eat at Union Station. The hotel did offer breakfast… according to the rooom service menu, we could’ve gotten fruit, coffee and bread for a measly $14.50, plus 10% tax, 18% tip and a $2.50 room surcharge. (And the bread’s not even toasted.)

We checked out of the hotel and bought our last D.C. Metro ticket and took the red line to the Amtrak station. I stood in a long line for my will-call tickets, only to discover that they could only be retrieved through self-service kiosks, not actual persons. (Who’d-a thunk?)

Next, we grabbed a table at Au Bon Pain and ordered breakfast right on time… they switched the menu over to lunch right after we ordered. (In case you’re interested, “lunch” began at 10:13 am)

Nothing much of interest took place until we got on the train, and from that point on, nothing much happened at all. What was supposed to be an hour and a half trip dragged into a 3 and a half hour trip. (A threeeeee hour toooouuuur…)

The deal was, our train was supposed to leave at 10:55 am, and as long as we rolled into Richmond before 2pm when Enterprise closed, they’d come pick us up at the Amtrak station and everything would be hunky-dory.

Nothing was hunky-dory.

The train was late arriving, late leaving, and stopped on the tracks for prolonged periods of time at random intervals. At one point, the train in front of us stalled on the tracks and proclaimed a “state of emergency” (!!!) and we were of course stuck behind them for quite some time.

I kept in contact with Enterprise througout (”We’re moving!” “No… we’re not.” “Yes! We’re inching along again!” “Er… scratch that.”) and although they dispatched a cashier to pick us up (and she waited in good faith in front of the Amtrak station for a full 15 minutes after the whole Enterprise branch shut down) we were still inching past Asheville when she had to give up and call it a day.

So, when we finally detrained (that’s a word Amtrak uses – not sure if it’s real, but hey) in Richmond, we were tired, hungry, crabby, and afflicted by a killer case of cabin fever.

We taxied to the airport ($41), which had the only open Enterprise location, and I was hit on by our cab driver, Pedro, who slipped me his phone number on a pink business card and made sure I knew where he’d be clubbing later. (???)

At the Enterprise station, more excitement ensued once I discovered that they couldn’t open my reservation because only one computer could pull up a record at a time, and the *closed* enterprise station still had it up on *their* screen. Yay. Plus I got to have some fun airport taxes, additional airport fees, and so on and so forth until I’d added another $75 to the fee. Joy.

Finally, we pulled onto the highway in our barely-dented 2006 cherry red Toyota Corolla and headed for the hotel, which turned out to be conveniently located next door to an Olive Garden. We walked over to the O.G. and got some grub (me: eggplant parm w/ gorgonzola fettucine, rob: pepperoni & sausage pizza, andy: cheese ravioli w/ meat sauce) and came back to the room feeling a little less stressed.

I went to the lobby to ask for towels (we only got one) and to ask what kind of fun stuff was going on in Richmond on a Sunday evening. Everyone agreed: you could go to the movies, or you could stay home. Rob, Andy and I conferred and came to a quick group decision: movies it would be.

We were, however, wrong. We went to two movie theaters, one in a shopping plaza and the other in a mall. Although all the stores were closed, every single parking space was filled because every breathing inhabitant of Richmond, Virginia was at the theatre.

We decided to cruise around randomly instead, and as luck would have it, we came across a Dairy Queen. (And an adventure. But you knew that.)

Andy orders first (chocolate fury blizzard) and the cashier (young girl) says, “Is that all?” Fair question, I guess, if a bit odd – after all, there were three of us.

“No,” I answer, and nudge Rob. He orders next (snickers blizzard) and the cashier says, “Well, is *that* all??”

Oookay. “Er, no,” I answer. “I want a blizzard too. Is that okay?”

She tosses her hair and answers, “I guess. But if you would’ve asked me an hour from now, I’d be really pissed off.” (!!!)

Once we (finally) got our blizzards (oh yeah – mine was cookie/brownie/cheesecake) we sat outside on picnic tables and spent a couple hours in heated discussions of world politics, Generations X and Y, the pros and cons of space exploration, higher taxes versus national healthcare and improved education systems, and whether the 80s or the present day is more “me” oriented.

I have to say that I find it really cool that my brothers are the sort of people with whom one can have “real” conversations. I’m very proud of them – especially when they know enough about what they’re talking about to argue with me, and tell me things I didn’t already know. They’re pretty cool guys.

So anyway, now we’re back in the hotel room. Andy is boring Rob to death (near as I can tell, Rob’s desperately trying to suffocate himself by lying face-first into the mattress) with the most recent installment of the History Channel’s “Revolution” series, and I did promise Rob that I’d let him check his email.

Til next time!

Tags: food, trains