Le Cinque Terre, and Venice too

Hey all, I haven't written in a while. But thanks to everyone for their birthday wishes. Especially to Elie, who got me a pack of baseball cards, from which I pulled that new Derek Jeter (blech) with George W Bush (double blech) waving from the background. Quite a novelty, I guess.

Anyway, Cinque Terre was just as beautiful as everyone said it would be, and there were several places for sale, on a tiny hill, with olive and lemon trees in the yard. I looked, for my mom, to see how expensive they'd be, and they were all exorbitant. Plus, you've gotta be in 18-year-old cross-country-star cardio shape in order to make it there. Whew, were those hills tough! Not as legendarily unwalkable as everybody makes them out to be, certainly, but a stroll to the store for some bread takes some pep-talking.

I spent my birthday on a ferry from Venice (which looks JUST like you think it would) to Athens, and while that wasn't much fun, there was a pool ON THE BOAT and I also ate an entire jar of nutella to celebrate. A 30 hour cruise down the Aegean for 16 euro wasn't so bad in the end, I decided.

My host in Athens, Manolis, is unbelievably hospitable. What a great site couchsurfing is. I came right into 95 degree, drenchingly humid heat, and got to come to his apartment, eat Cretian Salad (different from Greek b/c of more crouton-type bread in the salad - not bad), drink white wine with peach juice, and have a lovely and comfortable home for my first three days in Athens. We might even go to a couchsurfing weekend party nearby, where we can meet all kinds of people which whom to stay in travels around the world.

Now, for some pictures.

This was posted all over the cruise ship. If you tilt your head to the left and read carefully, you'll notice, to your horror, that some things in life just don't make any sense whatsoever.
And you thought it was only in China and Japan where they had poorly translated English. Italy, I'm ashamed.
The "other" side of Venice, as is all too common.
Ah, beautiful Venice. Exactly what you'd expect to see, yet still beautiful.
My Aussie friend Alana who I met at the hostel in Cinque Terre. She's played in a band with Ross Irwin (Cat Empire fans, out there? He's part of the add-on horn section when they play in Melbourne). We got this huge beer and HUUUGE watermelon for 4 euro total, not each, after our long hike through all of the Cinque Terre.
Here's us again. Doesn't it look like we've been superimposed on a backdrop of Cinque Terre, and we're two really bad hosts on a poorly-funded cable-TV travel show? I mean, even look at our posture. "And that's why Cinque Terre has some of the best hiking in Italy. Isn't that right, Alana?" "That's right GM, let's go explore!"
Oh yeah, this is what you've been waiting to see. Spectacular. Utterly spectacular.
Now, I'm not lying here. It really is still Cinque Terre, not Tucson. They definitely have Agave, Prickly Pear (not pictured), and, whatever that tall thing is on the left. They were all growing on the exposed cliffs facing the sea, which makes me think, if I remember my rainforest ecology and marine biology classes from Australia, that it's not necessarily the dry heat that these "desert" plants thrive in, but the harsh environment devoid of proper soil nutrients, also containing high winds and variable weather, so the plants have to scrape by to survive in highly competitive environments where dispersal is key. Bing!
Now, it wouldn't be Italy without a woman hanging wash out to dry outside her window, right?
Another picture of a village.


Athens and Santorini are next. Hopefully everything's great wherever everybody else is. This long trip has been great so far for relaxing and not feeling like I have to "see something" all the time. Makes traveling more worth it. If Beto's reading (and Ruth, if he's not, make him), tell him we definitely have to go forward with the Central America plan for next summer. I love this traveling thing too much.

Barça - Stomping grounds of Ronaldinho

First of all, you´ll have to scroll way down if you want to see pictures of Granada. I got them uploaded, but the post was chronologically before my "update" post, so it kind of got buried. It´s worth your time, I promise.

Anyway, here´s Barcelona. The first thing to know is that Catalan, the langauge of Barcelona and of Catalunya, is not Spanish. It´s like a mixture of Spanish, French, and Portugese, which makes it very difficult to understand. However, most people speak Spanish, and some speak English, so it´s made it easy to get around regardless.

The endless fruit stalls of La Boqueria, a huge open-air market just off Las Ramblas, the main walking (and tourist) strip of Barça.
And the meat, just hanging out.
One of Antoni Gaudi´s buildings in Park Guell. And yes, it´s supposed to look like the Gingerbread house from Hansel and Gretl. What a visionary.
Me, Trish, and James. All from Tucson! Traveling alone is supposed to be cool like this: Meet people, hang for a few days, meet more, etc. But now we get to hang out after vacation is over as well. And this is Gaudi´s walkway that´s supposed to look like the curl of a wave.
This just disgusts me.
Another of Gaudi´s works. There isn´t a straight line on the entire façade.
Now, this is just incredible. Gaudi commissioned this as a monument to St. George, who slew the dragon. The scaly ridge on the roof is the dragon´s backbone, the balconies are the skulls of the dead, and the support columns are the bones of the dead. See? Amazing!
Gaudi´s most well-known, although unfinished work, La Sagrada Familia. It´s being completed by local construction crews and architects anyway, because they respect his vision and his influence on Barcelona.
Outdoor ping pong in the park. Marty would be in heaven.
The Arc de Triomf. Modeled after the one in France.


After this, I´m off to Cinque Terre and then other parts of Europe. But my time in Spain has been just wonderful. Tapas, sangria, relaxation, and some neat architecture have really been a great, relaxing time. I´ll miss Spain, like everyone said I would. Hopefully more great adventures await.

Update

I have some great pictures of Granada and of Barcelona, but the lack of computers and good uploading processes have prevented me from sharing them for the past few days. Hopefully I´ll get them to you guys soon.

In short, the Alhambra, the Moorish palace in Granada, was spectacular, with as intricate detail as I´ve ever seen, including loads of Arabic calligraphy.

Barcelona has been nothing short of spectacular. It´s definitely much busier than the other Spanish cities I´ve visited, but it´s got a charm that makes it a great place to be, and what I would assume to be a great place to live.

Also, if you haven´t seen the work of architect Antoni Gaudi, you must look it up. Barcelona is famous for his works, and he has become one of my new favorite historical figures. Simply amazing. As soon as I can get pictures to work, I´ll upload them. He was a visionary if ever there was one.

Another day and a half in Barcelona, with its crazy nightlife, kooky street performers, and beaches, and then it´s off to Cinque Terre, in the hills of northwest Italy.

Also, in a random note, I met two people in Granada who are U of A students! We chatted and had a great time (except they had a tagalong friend who may have been the biggest jerk I´ve ever met, and he wasn´t even a jock). And then, after we took the train together to Barcelona and said goodbye, randomly met up again in Gaudi´s unfinished Sagrada Familia. We traveled for about two days together in Barcelona. How amazingly small this world is.

Becca might actually know James, but probably not Trish. James said he may have run into Cara in Yavapai one night (hint, hint). Long story short, we talked about Beyond Bread while sitting in a park in Barcelona. Amazing. See you soon.

Granada - In Full

Finally! Ok, well, I´ve been waiting to see the Alhambra since I learned about it in high school. When the Moops (haha, I mean Moors) took over Spain, it led to much Arabic influence and some incredible architecture, so I was told. Well, I have some pictures that speak for themselves. But first, two NOT of the Alhambra:

An amazing mural graffiti artist who lives in town, Raul has decorated so many walls of buildings with his incredible and powerful art, that there are now tourist-office-sponsored navigational maps to guide people to see all of them. There´s a message in this one, too, in case you can´t read Spanish. It asks, "Who is playing with our children?"
In Sacromonte, the hills above Granada, the gypsies live in caves. The outsides of the caves look like they contain items stolen from around town: cafe table umbrellas, doors, etc. I didn´t want to take a full on picture of someone´s house with them inside it, so I did it covertly. You can kind of see it in the distance there.
Ah, el Generalife: the gardens of the Alhambra. The place was filled with this stuff.
The Fountain of Lions from the famed Arabian Nights fairy tale, albeit without the lions, which are being restored. Rotten luck.
One of many courtyards.
There was too much of this to accurately capture its majesty on film, but suffice it to say that entire walls, in fact, entire rooms had this Arabic calligraphy sprawled out from floor to cathedral-ceiling.
A view of the Alhambra from Plaza de St. Nicolas.


Granada was a great trip, although other than the Alhambra, it was pretty slow, and I think you´d have to actually live there to honestly enjoy it. On to Barcelona!

Granada - Initial Impressions

I´ve been in Granada for about hours now. I checked into my hostel, and took a walk to orient myself and explore the immediate area. I was amazed. THIS is the place I should have come during college. You can feel the middle-eastern, hippie-style atmosphere in the very air itself.

Young, dreadlocked, cigarette-smoking musicians, garbed in all the typical middle-eastern-printed clothes that we typically associate with liberal college hippies, sit around in plazas and play gypsy music, while dark-skinned Princess Jasmines twist to the beat. Incense smokes out of every corner, and pro-social, liberal graffiti splatters the walls of buildings.

There are some of you (coughtimcough) who said I´d be the next to get hitched: I´d meet a girl in Greece and never come back. Well, THIS is the place I should fall in love. A nice, mocha-skinned hippie girl who splits her time between here and Morocco.

Although to be honest, as much as people who know me tend to associate me with that hippie lifestyle and mentality, I´ve never felt entirely comfortable in that setting, and I still don´t, even here, even now. There´s something that is subtley uncomfortable about it all. I think it´s the fact that that crowd tends to be into drugs, and I´m not. Some guy today in one of those groups approached me, pegged my heritage straight off, and offered me some hashish. I declined (in Spanish, mind you), and lamented the one barrier that´s separated me from my perceived ideal of a lifestyle and of women.

It´s interesting. I don´t know what I look for in women. I think I look for what I´ve found so far here. But when it comes down to it, I feel uncomfortable, because of the drugs. And even if they don´t do drugs, some people around them do. I haven´t really thought about women in almost a year, due to my last mini-relationship, and my new job. But I think it´s time to do some serious soul-searching. These next 9 weeks will be a good repose for self-reflection.

And you thought snails were only in France

Okay, pictures first this time, since this computer is confusing and all the blogger controls are in Japanese. I know, I´m just as confused as you. The moorish-style tile of the Alcázar, a Moorish palace in Sevilla.

The individual provincial capital placards around the Plaza de España. Each is made from tile. The next picture explains this specific plaza.

La Plaza de España. Built for the World´s Fair expo in 1929, it became just a museum when the US stock market crashed and no one from the US could come. It´s beautifully tiled.

A leg of ham with a chain mail glove. These ham legs are hanging in almost every bar in the city. It´s the traditional food of Sevilla, jamon iberico (Iberian Ham), which is the meat from the back legs of black pigs fed only on acorns. Delicious.

A typical Sevillano street. No, not alleyway. Street.

The cathedral.

The cool, 3-D floor of the cathedral.

My travels:

I took the 3:30 AM bus to the center of London, and then took the 4 AM bus to Stansted Airport, which is about an hour outside of the city. I flew on my first flight with discount airline Ryanair, and found out some pretty interesting things:

Stansted, at 5 AM on a Monday morning, is PACKED with people. I have no idea why, either. Also, Ryanair affords to be so cheap because their terminal was the very last terminal, probably about a mile from security. I walked around corners, down hallways, down escalators, around more corners, up some escalators, until I finally got to the terminal. Then, I found out 10 minutes before my flight, that the gate had changed, so I had to run all the way back through the airport to some other airline´s gate, where my flight had already boarded. At least the flight was only $50.

Sevilla, by the way, is a dream. The pace of life is so slow here. If it weren´t for everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, smoking, it would be the best place. The narrow, winding, cobblestone alleyways evoke memories of Alsace-Lorraine in France. The cars, trucks, and endless motorcycles that drive down them, when you can almost touch both walls with your arms, are incredible. The fact that everything closes from 2-5, and then stays open until 9, or sometimes even 2 AM, is also amazing. The siesta and late afternoon lifestyle are so relaxing. Nobody seems in a hurry here.

The tapas bars, which are a staple of Spanish life, are also amazing. You go in, order 3 or 5 tapas between 2 or 3 people, a couple of cañas of beer (small, OJ glass size), and eat. (For those unfamiliar, tapas are small little tastes of larger meals. Appetizers, if you will, but not the 8 dollar huge appetizers that we have in the states. A tiny plate of food designed to be shared.

The first place I went to was this little bodega. We ordered 5 tapas, two cañas of beer, one cup of coffee, and one glass of wine, all for 13 euro. It´s a steal. To top it off, they bring you out a plate of olives and peanuts before the tapas come, and you could just throw the pits and shells on the floor. There were pigeons hopping around, eating the leftovers, and the guys behind the bar were smoking while they were preparing the food. Definitely in Spain.

Also, I went out for tapas around 1:30 AM last night, and I ordered three things, but the bartender listed five things, and said, "vale? vale?" So I said ok, and was treated to two soup bowls of snails. You could still see their little eyes, mouths, and ears sticking up. Some even looked like they were crying in pain. But boy, were they delicious. I never thought I´d like snails, but there you go. You get hungry at 1 AM and you never know what you´re going to enjoy.

Also, I went to a flamenco show last night. 4 euros for an hour-long show and one beer. Amazing. It was a Japanese woman who moved to Spain when she was 18 to further her study of flamenco dance. Quite interesting. She was fantastic, and the guitarist was out of this world. The stomping and clapping were just the way you would imagine them.

Well, cheers for now. Off to Granada and Barcelona soon.

London

I came down to London on Friday, and Ben and I met up with Jared after work. We went to a local pub around the corner from Jared's apartment, which is in North Greenwich, right next to the Greenwich Observatory, where GMT starts and the Prime Meridian is. Poor Prime Meridian: it's the lesser of the two global dividing lines. Actually, it's probably third if you count the international date line. Oh well. I guess it kind of follows the same story line as every British athlete or sports team in history. Tim Henman, the English national soccer team, the cricket team, the rugby team, etc.

Anyway, there are plenty of ales here, which I expected, and they're all quite good. The bad part, though, is that buying a beer for three pounds-fifty would be good if it was three dollars-fifty. But instead it's seven dollars. So I'm quite happy to get out of England tomorrow, if only for that reason.

Now for some pictures:

This picture needs no explanation. It's the one I promised you in the last post.


Jared, Ben, and I enjoying some cheap drinks, courtesy of Jared's bartender brother.



The obligatory Big Ben picture, albeit sideways, since I didn't want to fuss to turn it around.

The Tower Bridge, which would be a sweet place to hang out on, if you could get to the top.

A cyclist, but more importantly, Churchill, over my righthand shoulder. This reminds me of my favorite Churchill quote: "That is something up with which we shall not put!" Ah, teachin' the kids good ol' grammar. Goodonya, Churchie. (I forgot to add, Ben and Jared are from Australia, so it was like visiting two countries in one.)



And, to the benefit of us both, this is Reha, an architecture student at Minnesota. We met in the customs line after we landed in London. It was early, and we were both kinda grubby and tired, and helped each other navigate the airport, the tube, and get our bearings in a new place. She's Egyptian, and I'm Lebanese. Maybe we'll tour the middle east some day. I'm up for it, even if my mom is scared of me going. Reha speaks Arabic! Fantastic! Cheers, Reha! See you around the world somewhere.

So all in all, it's been a good few days. Two things that are oddly interesting though:

1) On Air India, the flight I took from JFK, all the flight attendants wore saris. Very cool.

2) On British keyboards, they switched the @ sign with the " sign. So to type quotation marks, which would make sense if they were over the apostrophe, you have to hit shift-2. Slightly annoying, but really bothersome when you're trying to type fast. Also, they have a £ sign over the three. I don't know if that will show up on your computers in the US, but it's a pound sign.

Off to Sevilla tomorrow. Cheers, as they say.

~GM

Cambridge

So I'm not sure if the outlets here will zap my camera if I plug it directly into the computer. Thus I can't upload pictures quite yet. But anyway, I arrived into London, then took a train from King's Cross to Cambridge, where I'm staying with my friend Ben. There was a great thing in King's Cross, too, because they actually had "Platform 9 3/4" across from the ticket booth. I was wondering how I could possibly take a picture without looking like a total tourist, but I decided the picture was more important. I'll upload it when I can.

Cambridge has narrow, winding, pedestrian streets like you think of in France. Also, lots of big old buildings. And there are more Americans, Chinese, Indians, French, Portugese here than British, it seems. It's probably not true, but I've met surprisingly few British people in Cambridge. I guess if it's the Harvard of England and you're hanging out with a bunch of PhD students, that's what you get.

Anyway, this afternoon it's off to London, so I'll tell you more once I know it.