If we have learned anyhing this last week, its that Rick Steves' maps may suck, but his tips for avoiding crowds are dead on. Prior to our departure from the states we had several conversations that went like this:
"Hey babe...Rick says we should reserve tickets to the Academy where David is located in Florence." "Eh...maybe. we'll see."
Fast forward to the day we are in Florence. It is smoking hot, we took an hour long train from the port to Florence and we are working on hour three standing in line to see this GD statue. You have never seen anything like this. A three hour line. Luckily, we had some nice young ladies in line with us and it was fun to hear about their travels through Europe. I swear one of them was Ali Smith...right down to the personality. I loved her!
So, after the three hour mark, the gates open and our side of the line begins to move. Yes! We are finally in!
Nope. Security cut the line right where we stood. And we stood there for another 30 minutes. "Maybe we should have reserved tickets." Especially since the reserved line only waited 30 minutes.
After almost four hours waiting in line in the blazing sun it took us 20 minutes to see what we wanted to see. David is still as impressive as I remember him.
As a parting gift, our frustrated Mr Tucci decided to buck the security warnings about no photography. "I waited all damn day to see this thing...im taking pictures!"
On the train ride back to port we decided we could scratch Florence off our list for a lifetime. F@&# Florence, he said.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Northern Spain is very different. They are Spainsh by force, Catalonian by choice. Franco, and many others before him, attempted to make them conform under Spanish rule. The flag, the language and even some of the festivites and dancing were outlawed. But now, the culture is making a comeback with a vengance, including the lanuage.
Rick Steves says Catalan is as different from Spanish as Italian. He wasn't kidding. This isn't simply a dialect difference or one verb tense, entire words and the composition of their alphabet are different. So, imagine our fun trying to communicate with a gruff female attendant at a gas station at 1:30 a.m. when we were lost. Yea...that was a potential marriage ender too.
Cities don't look very far apart on a map. They're simply two inches. Can't take that long. Based on some quick calculations, Alicante to Barcelona should be four, five hours tops. If we get within an hour of Barcelona we can easily turn in the car and jump on the ship. Oh...and there's a cool beach town right in that area. Vamanos!
Well, things are never as easy as they seem, but they make for good stories the next day.
Thanks to the all nighter watching the sun come up (it was worth it) we shot out of bed at noon. Check out is at noon. Crap! Hurry, pack everything up...we gotta get out of here.
Now it's about 12:30.
We had an amazing pizza the night before. I mean best thing I ever ate good. We thought "let's hit that place quick for lunch." Simple. Unfortunately, Spanish streets are a lot like Lakewood - they go in circles. We thought we knew where the pizza place was then went through various iterations of stubborn determination, defeat and sweat. Just as we were about to give up, an hour later, we found it. Yes...we had walked circles for hours and even passed within a block of the place. That was the best diet coke I've ever drank.
So now it's somewhere around three.
We head back to the car and drive to the Castle de Santa Barbara. It dates back to he eighth century and is not to be missed. Naturally, even though the castle is on the hill right above us, it takes 30 minutes and lots of wrong turns to get there. It was worth it. The views are amazing and the archetectre beautiful.
Now it's after four.
Vamanos! We gotta hit the road. It's all fun and games for the first two hours. Passing beautiful old orange groves and estates, snapping pictures of the huge black bull cutouts scattered along all the hillsides, me reading fun facts out loud from Steve's entries on Barcelona. But then it gets old. Quickly.
The toll freeway goes much faster. But each stretch we hit costs between 14 and 19 euro. That adds up. We decide to take the free freeway, and that was our big mistake. Now the trip got longer.
So, short story, it gets dark quick and we are kinda stuck on this slower freeway. We finally get to Tarragona. Sigh...goal accomplished. At this point,it is eleven. Makes most sense to stay in a cheap place since we aren't going to be there long. All booked up. Nothing available.
Well hell...we are this close to Barcelona, let's just keep going. After a series of wrong turns we get on the right track. However, it is the slow track and no one is around. Pat starts to panic that we are going to run out of gas. Pat never panics, so this is serious. We coast in to a gas station, at 12:30, with tempers flaring only to realize this catalonian language barrier is greater than we thought. This female attendant is screaming over the pa system and all I can make out is "touch it...touch it!" That meant pick up the pump handle, insert it in the gas tank, and push the button...apparently.
Long story short, we survived and finally found a nice hotel outside Barcelona around 2 a.m. apparently there was a huge rave party going on at the arts center across the street. I was so beat I missed it.
Rick Steves says Catalan is as different from Spanish as Italian. He wasn't kidding. This isn't simply a dialect difference or one verb tense, entire words and the composition of their alphabet are different. So, imagine our fun trying to communicate with a gruff female attendant at a gas station at 1:30 a.m. when we were lost. Yea...that was a potential marriage ender too.
Cities don't look very far apart on a map. They're simply two inches. Can't take that long. Based on some quick calculations, Alicante to Barcelona should be four, five hours tops. If we get within an hour of Barcelona we can easily turn in the car and jump on the ship. Oh...and there's a cool beach town right in that area. Vamanos!
Well, things are never as easy as they seem, but they make for good stories the next day.
Thanks to the all nighter watching the sun come up (it was worth it) we shot out of bed at noon. Check out is at noon. Crap! Hurry, pack everything up...we gotta get out of here.
Now it's about 12:30.
We had an amazing pizza the night before. I mean best thing I ever ate good. We thought "let's hit that place quick for lunch." Simple. Unfortunately, Spanish streets are a lot like Lakewood - they go in circles. We thought we knew where the pizza place was then went through various iterations of stubborn determination, defeat and sweat. Just as we were about to give up, an hour later, we found it. Yes...we had walked circles for hours and even passed within a block of the place. That was the best diet coke I've ever drank.
So now it's somewhere around three.
We head back to the car and drive to the Castle de Santa Barbara. It dates back to he eighth century and is not to be missed. Naturally, even though the castle is on the hill right above us, it takes 30 minutes and lots of wrong turns to get there. It was worth it. The views are amazing and the archetectre beautiful.
Now it's after four.
Vamanos! We gotta hit the road. It's all fun and games for the first two hours. Passing beautiful old orange groves and estates, snapping pictures of the huge black bull cutouts scattered along all the hillsides, me reading fun facts out loud from Steve's entries on Barcelona. But then it gets old. Quickly.
The toll freeway goes much faster. But each stretch we hit costs between 14 and 19 euro. That adds up. We decide to take the free freeway, and that was our big mistake. Now the trip got longer.
So, short story, it gets dark quick and we are kinda stuck on this slower freeway. We finally get to Tarragona. Sigh...goal accomplished. At this point,it is eleven. Makes most sense to stay in a cheap place since we aren't going to be there long. All booked up. Nothing available.
Well hell...we are this close to Barcelona, let's just keep going. After a series of wrong turns we get on the right track. However, it is the slow track and no one is around. Pat starts to panic that we are going to run out of gas. Pat never panics, so this is serious. We coast in to a gas station, at 12:30, with tempers flaring only to realize this catalonian language barrier is greater than we thought. This female attendant is screaming over the pa system and all I can make out is "touch it...touch it!" That meant pick up the pump handle, insert it in the gas tank, and push the button...apparently.
Long story short, we survived and finally found a nice hotel outside Barcelona around 2 a.m. apparently there was a huge rave party going on at the arts center across the street. I was so beat I missed it.
Friday, June 17, 2011
No, no...I got it...
I really can't believe the attitude here toward garbage. It is 4 a.m. and I am watching three men, employed by the government, picking up trash on the beach. Reference our blog about la basura and apparently that attitude extends to everything else. Everyone tosses their trash all over. Looking out on the beach at 4 a.m. there is garbage all around. Really? It's not cool to pick up after yourself? Well, I guess it keeps people employed. We saw similar operations in Madrid. NO, NO...don't worry...don't pick up your garbage....I got it.
Street Drinking
We haven't quite figured out all the social cues of Spain. When do you not take your top off on the beach? Do you put it back on to go in the water? Can you just sit at any open table outside and get served? But the most of these is what I call street drinking. Wander down any street in Alicante after midnight and you will find large groups of young Spaniards drinking a mix of Coke or Fanta with their alcohol of choice. The Police seem to have issues with this, but the crowds are larger than they can control. So, we watched the police come in, scatter the crowd to different dirrections only to catch up with them later on a different street.
On a related note, street peeing also seems to be a big thing. Especialy after 2 a.m. We caught several people peeing on old buildings or behind dumpsters. We laughed, so did they. But imagine...that goes on every night. I feel a need to wash my feet before bed.
On a related note, street peeing also seems to be a big thing. Especialy after 2 a.m. We caught several people peeing on old buildings or behind dumpsters. We laughed, so did they. But imagine...that goes on every night. I feel a need to wash my feet before bed.
No es serio!
Because we had to, we stayed out all night dancing last night in Alicante. Seriously people, if you get to Espana, block out three days for this place.
I didn't get this whole siesta thing until I got here. Playa (beach) en la manana (morning), nap in the afternoon, get dressed for dinner around eight and party all night long. I have to admit, as counter as this whole thing is to productivity, it is nice to take a nap in the afternoon when it is boiling hot out.
But wow. At midnight the streets are packed with people eating dinner at outside restaurants. At two a.m. everyone goes to the clubs. At 4:15 a.m. I had to convince someone to go home. Yes, Pat is convinced he should live in Spain.
Dancing here isn't exactly what Pat envisioned. Most dancing is based off the salsa. We Americans, in general, are too serious and tight to do that well. After afew lessons from folks in the bar, I am happy to report Pat got a thumbs up from everyone we met. He could hold his own.
Music plays a big part in any culture. It is fun to be in a place where we can experience that through a totally different perspective.
I didn't get this whole siesta thing until I got here. Playa (beach) en la manana (morning), nap in the afternoon, get dressed for dinner around eight and party all night long. I have to admit, as counter as this whole thing is to productivity, it is nice to take a nap in the afternoon when it is boiling hot out.
But wow. At midnight the streets are packed with people eating dinner at outside restaurants. At two a.m. everyone goes to the clubs. At 4:15 a.m. I had to convince someone to go home. Yes, Pat is convinced he should live in Spain.
Dancing here isn't exactly what Pat envisioned. Most dancing is based off the salsa. We Americans, in general, are too serious and tight to do that well. After afew lessons from folks in the bar, I am happy to report Pat got a thumbs up from everyone we met. He could hold his own.
Music plays a big part in any culture. It is fun to be in a place where we can experience that through a totally different perspective.
Thankful
When packing light there are several thing you become thankful for, and others you can ditch.
1. Eddie Bauer's travel skirt.
2. My Olukai flip flips from REI
3. The Droid...so I stay in touch.
4. Purity face cloths
5. A Patagonia travel dress
6. A pashmina wrap
7. Bandaids...for blisters. See post 2.
If you are traveling soon, I highly recommend these items.
1. Eddie Bauer's travel skirt.
2. My Olukai flip flips from REI
3. The Droid...so I stay in touch.
4. Purity face cloths
5. A Patagonia travel dress
6. A pashmina wrap
7. Bandaids...for blisters. See post 2.
If you are traveling soon, I highly recommend these items.
Una Basura
I equate Spain´s garbage problem with Oregon´s outlook on having people pump your gas for you. It creates jobs.
After about five drinks, I got up the nerve to talk to a female bartender. Come to find out, she´s from Ecuador. I asked about all the garbage on the floor. Napkins, olive pits, wrappers...you name it. It´s pretty sick. And everywhere you go.
¨I know! I can´t believe it! There are garbage cans all over the place, under their feet and they just throw trash all over.¨ Well, I guess it gives someone something to do. As for us, we made sure to kindly put all of our garbabe in the basura or on the plate where it belonged.
After about five drinks, I got up the nerve to talk to a female bartender. Come to find out, she´s from Ecuador. I asked about all the garbage on the floor. Napkins, olive pits, wrappers...you name it. It´s pretty sick. And everywhere you go.
¨I know! I can´t believe it! There are garbage cans all over the place, under their feet and they just throw trash all over.¨ Well, I guess it gives someone something to do. As for us, we made sure to kindly put all of our garbabe in the basura or on the plate where it belonged.
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