2.55pm Video game shop, Grand Rue, Dinan
I think you can only eat so much of something before you begin to resemble it. Which means that right now I'm beginning to look a bit flat, golden and brimming with internal goodness. My nose is also probably starting to resemble a glass of cider.
The reason I came to Brittany, home of crepes and their savoury counterparts - galettes, was to sample one of my favourite cuisines in their natural habitat. Well I have certainly sampled! At the weekly marchè yesterday morning I had a galette wrapped around a peppery sausage for breakfast, snarfed down while watching the locals buy bread, cauliflowers, cheese, meats, fruit and fish. I got in on the action a bit later by buying some mandarins and bananas, managing NOT to buy trois kilos of mandarins from the toothy old bloke.
As it's been awhile since my last post, my apologies, I had planned to blog before leaving Barcelona, but I was understandably distracted by the spectacular city, by friends and by the beginnings of the Traveller's Illness From Hell. So I'll try and be brief, but here's what happened in the Time Before Crepes.
Barcelona has so much on offer, it's not at all hard to fill your days. I spent one day looking at all the Gaudi and Modernist buildings, gorgeous and crazy. This was the same day I found my way to La Boqueria - Barcelona's daily fresh food market on La Rambla. I ADORED IT. I went back everyday to buy more fruit and more of their ready-to-go juices. The whole place had me in paroxysms of delight everytime and I wished I had a home and a kitchen to go back to, it made me want to cook so badly!
Apart from daily visits to La Boqueria, I also went up to the castle on top of Montjuic on a beautiful clear day to see the view and write mean, jealousy-inducing postcards. I visited the Museo Picasso, wonderful, and MACBA, a contemporary arts place with some seriously excellent exhibitions. Kills me that I will never again see this much interesting and exciting art in one short space of time again. Also checked out the cathedral, wandered the lanes of the Barri Gotic, had churros with chocolate (Rio was better Dad), and managed a very restrained purchase of earrings and a ring. Barcelona is a city in which I could spend some serious money - and most of you know that I'm not a shopper.
One of the other excellent things that happened in Barcelona was tracking down my friends, Kim and John, who immediately ferried me off for great tapas at their local, did my washing for me, took me on a walking tour of some of their favourite spots, plied me with candy and Strepsils, hid fun things in my bag and had me round for dinner in their very cool apartment - a home cooked meal! I was very sorry to say goodbye to Barcelona, but also very excited because I get to go there again on my first bus tour.
By the time I left Barcelona, for Toulouse - first stop in France, I was feeling very below par. By the time I arrived in Toulouse, I was done. I crawled into bed and stayed there for the whole next day, with only one very hard journey to the pharmacy and the train station. Have never had a fever like it. Felt like Marianna Dashwood in 'Sense and Sensibility' except no one could fetch my mother, no one was bleeding me or holding a cold flannel to my fevered brow and my fever eventually broke at 10pm, not 3am. NEVERTHELESS it was VERY SIMILAR to a Jane Austen book!
So I did nothing in Toulouse. Was feeling much better, although still weak, by the time I arrived in Orleans, to be met by my Mum's penfriend, Catherine, and her husband, Lionel. I stayed in their home in Les Choux for three days and really enjoyed having time to recover and some time in a real home. I also met their son, his wife and crazy beast of a dog and one of their daughters and her two small children. Catherine and Lionel also had a very sweet little dog with bucketloads of personality.
While in Les Choux I visited a very famous pottery place, Gien, a gorgeous chocolate shop in Montargis and the castle of Sully. The weather was back to being the middle of winter, but the countryside was just beautiful, all bare trees with MISTLETOE in them! Was pretty excited about that one!
And now I'm in Dinan, slowly turning into a crepe! Dinan is gorgeous, stone buildings and streets, walls protecting the city and overlooking the river. I kid you not, you can't spit without hitting a creperie and the whole town smells like them, it's fantastic.
On Sunday I head to Paris, quite excited about that, although I did see the Eiffel Tower for two seconds on a train, practically wet my pants with excitement. That was quickly cancelled out when I looked at the Metro map and had to work out where the hell I was and where I was meant to be. Am getting wonderfully adept at maneuvering my suitcase through ticket barriers though! Ahh, the life skills I'm developing!
Friday, February 27, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
I Am Hiccuping Like A Madwoman
Hostel foyer, Carre de Casanova, Barcelona, 5.09pm
We meet again! So far from our last encounter in the Spanish capital, now I'm in the unofficial capital. The one everybody DEFINITELY visits.
Arrived in the dark last night and didn't see anything apart from the Metro (excellent) and my hostel and the 500m in between. This hostel is probably the best I've stayed at - certainly the best shower, all hot and hard and relaxing! And a similarly equipped hairdryer. On my list of things I miss most (not including friends and family) has to be my hairdryer. My hair certainly misses the power and heat of a full size model. So having access to a hotted up little one here in Barcelona is wonderful! My hair is smooth through drying technique, not greasiness!
But I digress, back to Madrid! My favourite things in Madrid were the Reina Sofia gallery and probably the sandwich I had for lunch that day. Both satisfying and uplifting, though in different ways. The Reina Sofia had the famous Picasso I wanted to see and it was HUGE and fairly impressive. The rest of the permanent collection was also excellent and it was a lot like being in Yr 12 Art History looking at all the Cubism and Surrealism. They also had a couple of temporary exhibitions of contemporary artists, my favourites being Zoe Anderson and Paul Thek. Zoe was a photographer with a sense of humour and Paul did collections of smaller detailed pieces, exactly the kind of thing I like. I did visit the Prado as well, but it had a collection of much older works, all fairly large and epic (not unlike Madrid itself), but they did have some excellent Goya's, although none of his prints, which are my favourites.
And then LUNCH! Spent forever walking trying to find somewhere and eventually plonked down in a reasonably hip kind of place. Selected a 'bocadillo' off the menu (baguette, sounds better en español) which I knew had cheese on it and something else random. I got presented with a toasted baguette with fetta and oozing brie and....CARAMELIZED ONIONS! I love caramelized onions! I almost ordered a second one I was so happy and it tasted so GOOD!
My second day in Madrid mainly consisted in Viewing Large Impressive Buildings, with a slight detour (an hour) in the morning where I viewed some of the inner city streets of Madrid (got lost). Highlight was spotting a cheese display in a window with a metre wide wheel of Swiss cheese in the centre.
After that it was off to Bilbao for Friday and Saturday. The countryside surrounding Bilbao is not what you expect from Spain. It was rolling hills, streams, twiggy trees and very green. Snow on the mountains in the distance, sheep with black faces in little flocks down in the valleys, stone farmhouses about five hundred years old.
Bilbao itself was also gorgeous and pretty cool. After Madrid being so LARGE and slightly lacking in atmosphere (apart from maybe being a little pompous), Bilbao was absolutely charming. I had the added bonus of a helpful chica from Uruguay who noticed me perusing my directions to my hotel and proceeded to walk me the entire way to the doorstep. Until I left Bilbao I couldn't, unfortunately, admit that she was genuinely helpful and kind because the whole time I was thinking 'Is she really this nice? Or do I have to be even more careful about getting my bag stolen while I'm in town?'. She was actually that nice though.
I stayed in the Casco Viejo area of Bilbao, which is very old, has lots of dark buildings close together over narrow pedestrian streets, packed with shops and bars, bit Melbourne really. Then the city is spread out along the river and is seriously dedicated to promoting a creative and arty feel for what was originally an industrial city. So along the river are some great buildings and sculptures, the Zubizuri footbridge and, of course, the Guggenheim. It's the Frank Gehry titanium, glass and limestone creation and is seriously cool! More sculptures outside it, including the Geoff Koons' 'Puppy'. If you haven't seen pictures of it, it's a ten metre tall puppy, sitting down, covered in plants, pansies at the moment.
The Guggenheim wasn't allowing access to their third floor and permanent collections, so I was only able to see the Cy Twombly exhibition - bit random. However the audio guide was included in the ticket price, so I did enjoy hearing more about the building itself, thought processes, inspiration, etc.
The other fun thing about Bilbao is that it's actually in an area of Spain where they speak a language called (something like) Euskada. It bears absolutely no resemblance to Spanish whatsoever. They all speak Spanish as well, but it certainly made for some interesting street names and signage. The best example I found was the word information. In Spanish it's: información. In Euskawhozywhatsit: agribideak. SEE?? CRAZY.
I then spent yesterday stuck on a shonky, noisy, cold train for nine and a half hours from Bilbao to Barcelona - squee. If I'd known it was THAT far, I would've sussed out a flight months ago. However, I did get to see a lot more of Spain in between the two cities, more lovely countryside around Bilbao, followed by what you actually expect in Spain - dry, rocky, harsh.
Today I got to hang out with Dan, Nicky and Nicky's mum, auntie and friends. We had lunch at their favourite restaurant, Dan, Nicky and I sharing a variety of tapas tasty bits and pieces. Dan and I had more of a chat in a bar that does a mean brekky (apparently) before he had to head back to his ship. Was absolutely awesome to see them and chat to them like I talk to all of you! Barcelona also seems to be busy and gorgeous, I look forward to seeing more tomorrow. Am thinking I will call it Gaudi Tuesday!
We meet again! So far from our last encounter in the Spanish capital, now I'm in the unofficial capital. The one everybody DEFINITELY visits.
Arrived in the dark last night and didn't see anything apart from the Metro (excellent) and my hostel and the 500m in between. This hostel is probably the best I've stayed at - certainly the best shower, all hot and hard and relaxing! And a similarly equipped hairdryer. On my list of things I miss most (not including friends and family) has to be my hairdryer. My hair certainly misses the power and heat of a full size model. So having access to a hotted up little one here in Barcelona is wonderful! My hair is smooth through drying technique, not greasiness!
But I digress, back to Madrid! My favourite things in Madrid were the Reina Sofia gallery and probably the sandwich I had for lunch that day. Both satisfying and uplifting, though in different ways. The Reina Sofia had the famous Picasso I wanted to see and it was HUGE and fairly impressive. The rest of the permanent collection was also excellent and it was a lot like being in Yr 12 Art History looking at all the Cubism and Surrealism. They also had a couple of temporary exhibitions of contemporary artists, my favourites being Zoe Anderson and Paul Thek. Zoe was a photographer with a sense of humour and Paul did collections of smaller detailed pieces, exactly the kind of thing I like. I did visit the Prado as well, but it had a collection of much older works, all fairly large and epic (not unlike Madrid itself), but they did have some excellent Goya's, although none of his prints, which are my favourites.
And then LUNCH! Spent forever walking trying to find somewhere and eventually plonked down in a reasonably hip kind of place. Selected a 'bocadillo' off the menu (baguette, sounds better en español) which I knew had cheese on it and something else random. I got presented with a toasted baguette with fetta and oozing brie and....CARAMELIZED ONIONS! I love caramelized onions! I almost ordered a second one I was so happy and it tasted so GOOD!
My second day in Madrid mainly consisted in Viewing Large Impressive Buildings, with a slight detour (an hour) in the morning where I viewed some of the inner city streets of Madrid (got lost). Highlight was spotting a cheese display in a window with a metre wide wheel of Swiss cheese in the centre.
After that it was off to Bilbao for Friday and Saturday. The countryside surrounding Bilbao is not what you expect from Spain. It was rolling hills, streams, twiggy trees and very green. Snow on the mountains in the distance, sheep with black faces in little flocks down in the valleys, stone farmhouses about five hundred years old.
Bilbao itself was also gorgeous and pretty cool. After Madrid being so LARGE and slightly lacking in atmosphere (apart from maybe being a little pompous), Bilbao was absolutely charming. I had the added bonus of a helpful chica from Uruguay who noticed me perusing my directions to my hotel and proceeded to walk me the entire way to the doorstep. Until I left Bilbao I couldn't, unfortunately, admit that she was genuinely helpful and kind because the whole time I was thinking 'Is she really this nice? Or do I have to be even more careful about getting my bag stolen while I'm in town?'. She was actually that nice though.
I stayed in the Casco Viejo area of Bilbao, which is very old, has lots of dark buildings close together over narrow pedestrian streets, packed with shops and bars, bit Melbourne really. Then the city is spread out along the river and is seriously dedicated to promoting a creative and arty feel for what was originally an industrial city. So along the river are some great buildings and sculptures, the Zubizuri footbridge and, of course, the Guggenheim. It's the Frank Gehry titanium, glass and limestone creation and is seriously cool! More sculptures outside it, including the Geoff Koons' 'Puppy'. If you haven't seen pictures of it, it's a ten metre tall puppy, sitting down, covered in plants, pansies at the moment.
The Guggenheim wasn't allowing access to their third floor and permanent collections, so I was only able to see the Cy Twombly exhibition - bit random. However the audio guide was included in the ticket price, so I did enjoy hearing more about the building itself, thought processes, inspiration, etc.
The other fun thing about Bilbao is that it's actually in an area of Spain where they speak a language called (something like) Euskada. It bears absolutely no resemblance to Spanish whatsoever. They all speak Spanish as well, but it certainly made for some interesting street names and signage. The best example I found was the word information. In Spanish it's: información. In Euskawhozywhatsit: agribideak. SEE?? CRAZY.
I then spent yesterday stuck on a shonky, noisy, cold train for nine and a half hours from Bilbao to Barcelona - squee. If I'd known it was THAT far, I would've sussed out a flight months ago. However, I did get to see a lot more of Spain in between the two cities, more lovely countryside around Bilbao, followed by what you actually expect in Spain - dry, rocky, harsh.
Today I got to hang out with Dan, Nicky and Nicky's mum, auntie and friends. We had lunch at their favourite restaurant, Dan, Nicky and I sharing a variety of tapas tasty bits and pieces. Dan and I had more of a chat in a bar that does a mean brekky (apparently) before he had to head back to his ship. Was absolutely awesome to see them and chat to them like I talk to all of you! Barcelona also seems to be busy and gorgeous, I look forward to seeing more tomorrow. Am thinking I will call it Gaudi Tuesday!
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
I Am Wearing Pants
A nerdy basement, Madrid, 4.01pm
Arrived in Madrid about an hour ago, it's a beautiful afternoon here. One of the bus stops had a temperature guide saying that it was 19degrees, while another one across the street said it was 11degrees. I'm guessing it's in the middle somewhere, so let's say 15degrees! A tiny bit cooler than Melbourne, perhaps??
When last we spoke, I was headed for Málaga wasn't I? Well Málaga wasn't too exciting, I went there for a night because I wanted to visit the Picasso Museum, thinking that seeing he was born in Málaga they might have some good pinturas (paintings). They didn't. Took me maybe 20mins (and only because I was going really slowly) to look at some prints, a couple of ceramic pieces and a collection of photos OF Picasso taken by Lee Miller. So feeling a bit jibbed and hungry I headed back to the hostel for my first hot shower in three days. Hello country without water restrictions and therefore less guilt! My hostel was having a BBQ on their roof that night, so faffed around until that started happening at 9pm, then sat on the roof in about 5degrees (beanie - yay!) for hours, chatting to all the randoms staying at the hostel or had friends there or had stayed there....anyone and everyone basically!
This was when I first heard of the Erasmus program. Vaguely, it's for uni students to study in another country. So the semester starts next week and the hostels have been flooded with all these students looking for apartments. So in Málaga and then in Granada, the hostels were pretty full with students, lots of people to talk to and hang out with, which was great, plus being one of only a small handful of 'travellers' was a novelty.
Headed to bed, to discover the other person sharing my room - a lively Irishman, who'd had such a big night the night before he'd slept through the BBQ and was not impressed. 'Ah no, I've missed the f***ing BBQ! I can't believe I missed the f***ing BBQ! They didn't wake me up, the f***ers!', etc etc. It was like sharing a room with Father Ted. Certainly entertaining in the middle of the night. He was then all for us rolling a joint, which I politely declined and left him to trot downstairs and find some of the f***ers who didn't wake him up for the f***ing BBQ.
I headed to Granada on Sunday, really pretty drive in with the Sierra Nevada hovering in the background, all snow-capped and pretty. My hostel was in the Albayzin (Arabic quarter of the city) so to get through I was hauling my suitcase up this lane lined with shops flogging all the usual hippy/Moroccan-esque type stuff. My hostel was good, massive, and full last night, they also had activities every night, which was a great way to pass the evenings.
Sunday arvo I visited the Cathedral, someone needed to send Sadie in with a Pledge Grab-It to do a spot of dusting on some of the side altars. I also struggled up the hill to the look out at Plaza Sant Nicolas. It's on the hill opposite la Alhambra so if you want photos, that's the place to do it. Unfortunately, the HUGE population of the Great Unwashed (hippies) living in Granada have chosen this spot as their unofficial fiesta/sales position. So the little plaza was packed with them all dancing around, flogging jewellery, letting their free love offspring express themselves through juggling, playing weird instruments, breaking up their feral dog fights and just generally clogging up the view. So I took photos of them, not the view, and bought a postcard with a great pic of la Alhambra on it instead! Also had lunch at a tèteria, Arabic tea room, so a pot of bergamot tea and a Turkish pizza in amongst the cusions, rugs, candles and dinky little tables.
Sunday night was the tapas tour, so I wandered off with a massive bunch of randoms for the free tapas. In Granada, if you order a drink (sangria/cerveza) you get free tapas with it, some places you choose what you want, some you just get given something nibbly. It was good, for under ten bucks Australian I had dinner and a couple of sangrias! None of us could work out how you made money out of that kind of business, but agreed that it was a damn fine idea!
Yesterday I headed for la Alhambra, to see it all up close and personal from the inside. It's amazing, stunningly detailed and intricate, with some cats roaming around as well! Took hours to ramble through it all, took a gazillion photos, hard to do it justice really.
Bought one or two little bits and pieces of hippy stuff in the afternoon and more postcards. Managed to stop myself buying one of those Taliban-esque scarves that are all the rage, but in Granada more than anywhere. It's a uniform there, says you belong in Granada and that you are all about freedom, inner beauty and not washing. Needless to say, that doesn't quite fit with my image, despite the Sevillian unwashed glory.
Last night the hostel had an hour long Spanish class, so I joined that, met a couple of Aussie kids and an American, we all had a good time. Then they cooked up a cauldron of pasta for us for dinner and more sangria. Hung out talking to all the randoms till late, then had to get in the queue for the bathroom. Only bad thing about my Granada hostel - one bathroom for ten people. Yes indeed.
Oh my god! I almost forgot the Pantless German story!
So yesterday we got a couple of new people in our room, said hello to this dude as he headed for the bathroom in the evening. He came back out later when I was re-packing my suitcase and I thought he had no pants on, but didn't really look. Then I went in to where our bunks were to grab something and he was in there putting the sheets on his bed. Pantless. And proceeded to have a brief chat with me in only a Tshirt and jocks, while climbing and leaning over to make his bed because it was a top bunk. While I kept my eyes above the shoulders and tried hard not to giggle. PUT SOME PANTS ON MAN! I am definitely meeting a variety....
Tomorrow I head to the two big galleries here in Madrid - the Reina Sofia and the Prado. One of them, can't remember which, has Picasso's 'Guernica', his Spanish Civil War painting, very famous. So am looking forward to some good modern art action.
Heading back to my hostel for some clean clothes action and some food now, and maybe I'll even try and go to bed before 11 tonight - granny action española style!
Arrived in Madrid about an hour ago, it's a beautiful afternoon here. One of the bus stops had a temperature guide saying that it was 19degrees, while another one across the street said it was 11degrees. I'm guessing it's in the middle somewhere, so let's say 15degrees! A tiny bit cooler than Melbourne, perhaps??
When last we spoke, I was headed for Málaga wasn't I? Well Málaga wasn't too exciting, I went there for a night because I wanted to visit the Picasso Museum, thinking that seeing he was born in Málaga they might have some good pinturas (paintings). They didn't. Took me maybe 20mins (and only because I was going really slowly) to look at some prints, a couple of ceramic pieces and a collection of photos OF Picasso taken by Lee Miller. So feeling a bit jibbed and hungry I headed back to the hostel for my first hot shower in three days. Hello country without water restrictions and therefore less guilt! My hostel was having a BBQ on their roof that night, so faffed around until that started happening at 9pm, then sat on the roof in about 5degrees (beanie - yay!) for hours, chatting to all the randoms staying at the hostel or had friends there or had stayed there....anyone and everyone basically!
This was when I first heard of the Erasmus program. Vaguely, it's for uni students to study in another country. So the semester starts next week and the hostels have been flooded with all these students looking for apartments. So in Málaga and then in Granada, the hostels were pretty full with students, lots of people to talk to and hang out with, which was great, plus being one of only a small handful of 'travellers' was a novelty.
Headed to bed, to discover the other person sharing my room - a lively Irishman, who'd had such a big night the night before he'd slept through the BBQ and was not impressed. 'Ah no, I've missed the f***ing BBQ! I can't believe I missed the f***ing BBQ! They didn't wake me up, the f***ers!', etc etc. It was like sharing a room with Father Ted. Certainly entertaining in the middle of the night. He was then all for us rolling a joint, which I politely declined and left him to trot downstairs and find some of the f***ers who didn't wake him up for the f***ing BBQ.
I headed to Granada on Sunday, really pretty drive in with the Sierra Nevada hovering in the background, all snow-capped and pretty. My hostel was in the Albayzin (Arabic quarter of the city) so to get through I was hauling my suitcase up this lane lined with shops flogging all the usual hippy/Moroccan-esque type stuff. My hostel was good, massive, and full last night, they also had activities every night, which was a great way to pass the evenings.
Sunday arvo I visited the Cathedral, someone needed to send Sadie in with a Pledge Grab-It to do a spot of dusting on some of the side altars. I also struggled up the hill to the look out at Plaza Sant Nicolas. It's on the hill opposite la Alhambra so if you want photos, that's the place to do it. Unfortunately, the HUGE population of the Great Unwashed (hippies) living in Granada have chosen this spot as their unofficial fiesta/sales position. So the little plaza was packed with them all dancing around, flogging jewellery, letting their free love offspring express themselves through juggling, playing weird instruments, breaking up their feral dog fights and just generally clogging up the view. So I took photos of them, not the view, and bought a postcard with a great pic of la Alhambra on it instead! Also had lunch at a tèteria, Arabic tea room, so a pot of bergamot tea and a Turkish pizza in amongst the cusions, rugs, candles and dinky little tables.
Sunday night was the tapas tour, so I wandered off with a massive bunch of randoms for the free tapas. In Granada, if you order a drink (sangria/cerveza) you get free tapas with it, some places you choose what you want, some you just get given something nibbly. It was good, for under ten bucks Australian I had dinner and a couple of sangrias! None of us could work out how you made money out of that kind of business, but agreed that it was a damn fine idea!
Yesterday I headed for la Alhambra, to see it all up close and personal from the inside. It's amazing, stunningly detailed and intricate, with some cats roaming around as well! Took hours to ramble through it all, took a gazillion photos, hard to do it justice really.
Bought one or two little bits and pieces of hippy stuff in the afternoon and more postcards. Managed to stop myself buying one of those Taliban-esque scarves that are all the rage, but in Granada more than anywhere. It's a uniform there, says you belong in Granada and that you are all about freedom, inner beauty and not washing. Needless to say, that doesn't quite fit with my image, despite the Sevillian unwashed glory.
Last night the hostel had an hour long Spanish class, so I joined that, met a couple of Aussie kids and an American, we all had a good time. Then they cooked up a cauldron of pasta for us for dinner and more sangria. Hung out talking to all the randoms till late, then had to get in the queue for the bathroom. Only bad thing about my Granada hostel - one bathroom for ten people. Yes indeed.
Oh my god! I almost forgot the Pantless German story!
So yesterday we got a couple of new people in our room, said hello to this dude as he headed for the bathroom in the evening. He came back out later when I was re-packing my suitcase and I thought he had no pants on, but didn't really look. Then I went in to where our bunks were to grab something and he was in there putting the sheets on his bed. Pantless. And proceeded to have a brief chat with me in only a Tshirt and jocks, while climbing and leaning over to make his bed because it was a top bunk. While I kept my eyes above the shoulders and tried hard not to giggle. PUT SOME PANTS ON MAN! I am definitely meeting a variety....
Tomorrow I head to the two big galleries here in Madrid - the Reina Sofia and the Prado. One of them, can't remember which, has Picasso's 'Guernica', his Spanish Civil War painting, very famous. So am looking forward to some good modern art action.
Heading back to my hostel for some clean clothes action and some food now, and maybe I'll even try and go to bed before 11 tonight - granny action española style!
Friday, February 6, 2009
I Am Casi Española
That's right folks, all it takes is a week of classes in the morning and you will be almost Spanish! I can't believe how much I've learnt and picked up this week. I actually understand things my hostess is saying to me, I understand almost everything in class, I even walk past people on the street and understand them. What was an incomprehensible babble on Monday I am now able to break down into words, phrases, meanings!
The classes have been great, I've been in a class with two other guys. One is Dieter, a very German older bloke who'll just put his foot down and go 'I don't understand. Explain it to me.' And the other is a Pommy guy, Daniel, who doesn't pick it up as quickly as me, but is much nicer about it than Dieter. Our teachers have all been fantastic, Alberto, Antonio, Ana and Juande. I never heard more than two or three words in English out of any of them, but they spoke slowly and clearly so that we'd understand. And if we didn't understand a concept they would explain it again, still in Spanish, just in a different way. By yesterday I was pretty confused and struggling with stuff we seemed to have been doing for three days, but today we did some different things and I feel like I can now say a million more things based on what I learnt this morning. ¡Ahora es muy facil!
Plus there have been some wonderful moments of misunderstanding and murderous pronunciation, which have kept us amused. Well, me more than anyone. For example this morning, Daniel accidentally said he would need his bikini if he was going to rent a car. I just couldn't stop laughing! And what I will now refer to as a meat card - ID. The word in Spanish for meat is CARNE. The word for card is CARNÉ. So your carné el identifidad is your ID card. Or your meat card, as I prefer.
Alberto couldn't stop laughing at me yesterday morning when he made me read a sentence out of our text book too.
Written - Hay muchos canguros.
My pronunciation - Ay moochoss cunhooross. (Insert fits of laughter from Alberto here.)
Correct pronunciation - I muchoss kanhuross.
I had no idea what it even meant, which added to Alberto's mirth because it means 'There are lots of kangaroos.'. Crazy australiana and her murderous español accent!
So escuela has been excellent and I can't get over how much easier it is to pick up when you're actually IN a country where they speak it. Wish I was staying here a bit longer, can you imagine how awesome I'd be after another week?!
Sevilla is GORGEOUS. I did some group excursions with people and a teacher from school to la Catedral y Giralda and Museo des Bellas Artes. The teacher only spoke en español, but I picked up some of it and they were absolutely fantastic. La Giralda was built by the Arabs back in the day, like around 700AD I believe. Then the Catholics claimed it and built the largest Gothic cathedral in the world around it. Muy impressivo! Plus what bodily remains there are of Christopher Columbus are entombed there. The gallery had some great examples of Sevillian and Spanish art, understood more of that stuff due to art history lessons at school and uni.
Unfortunately it bucketed down with rain on Wednesday evening, until Thursday after lunch, so I got drenched repeatedly and wasn't horrendously interested in rambling the city. Plus there was a slight incident with getting my washing done. In other words, I didn't, so I may have worn some vaguely pre-loved clothes yesterday. Seven days does not a clean pair of undies make, however. I did get my washing done last night, so it's all good now! At least until Saturday!
Today, though, the sun has burst forth in all its glory for my last day here. So after this I plan to wander through the gardens and enjoy the orange trees a little bit more.
In case you're wondering, my living situation has been severely below par. The most horrendous food I have come across, Mystery Stew most days - hello random chunks marauding as carrots when in reality being sausage. I also had Heinz Baby Finger Pasta yesterday. And TOO MANY CHICKPEAS!!!! I also enjoyed the lesson on using the microwave on Wednesday morning because my hostess would be out that day. I was told most specifically not to put cutlery in the microwave and to put a cover on my plate. When I saw the inside of the microwave I did question whether it was a case of putting a bandaid on open heart surgery, but I fear my Spanish is not yet at such a sophisticated level as to convey the necessary sarcasm that would be needed to do that remark justice. Plus I can't seem to get the hot water happening. So perhaps it's a waste wearing clean undies at the moment if I'm not exactly pristine myself? I leave tomorrow - squee! - for Malága though, so I don't have to suffer uncleanliness and unidentifiable meals any longer.
Tonight Daniel, from my class, and perhaps a few others, are going to hit up a recommended tapas bar. I asked Daniel if he was interested and his response was 'Definitely! I need to get out for a night. I'm like a tightly coiled spring, I need a few looseners.' I took that as a yes. I also discovered that when visiting his brother in Sydney, he was given both VB and goon to drink. I was suitably appalled and embarrassed for all Australians. What is this 'hospitality' we're showing our foreign visitors?!
Yo, voy a plaza en pie tomar el sol. (I'm going to walk to the plaza for some sunshine.) Mañana voy a Malága por visito el Museo de Picasso. (Tomorrow I'm going to Malága to visit the Picasso gallery.)
¡Hasta luego chicos!
The classes have been great, I've been in a class with two other guys. One is Dieter, a very German older bloke who'll just put his foot down and go 'I don't understand. Explain it to me.' And the other is a Pommy guy, Daniel, who doesn't pick it up as quickly as me, but is much nicer about it than Dieter. Our teachers have all been fantastic, Alberto, Antonio, Ana and Juande. I never heard more than two or three words in English out of any of them, but they spoke slowly and clearly so that we'd understand. And if we didn't understand a concept they would explain it again, still in Spanish, just in a different way. By yesterday I was pretty confused and struggling with stuff we seemed to have been doing for three days, but today we did some different things and I feel like I can now say a million more things based on what I learnt this morning. ¡Ahora es muy facil!
Plus there have been some wonderful moments of misunderstanding and murderous pronunciation, which have kept us amused. Well, me more than anyone. For example this morning, Daniel accidentally said he would need his bikini if he was going to rent a car. I just couldn't stop laughing! And what I will now refer to as a meat card - ID. The word in Spanish for meat is CARNE. The word for card is CARNÉ. So your carné el identifidad is your ID card. Or your meat card, as I prefer.
Alberto couldn't stop laughing at me yesterday morning when he made me read a sentence out of our text book too.
Written - Hay muchos canguros.
My pronunciation - Ay moochoss cunhooross. (Insert fits of laughter from Alberto here.)
Correct pronunciation - I muchoss kanhuross.
I had no idea what it even meant, which added to Alberto's mirth because it means 'There are lots of kangaroos.'. Crazy australiana and her murderous español accent!
So escuela has been excellent and I can't get over how much easier it is to pick up when you're actually IN a country where they speak it. Wish I was staying here a bit longer, can you imagine how awesome I'd be after another week?!
Sevilla is GORGEOUS. I did some group excursions with people and a teacher from school to la Catedral y Giralda and Museo des Bellas Artes. The teacher only spoke en español, but I picked up some of it and they were absolutely fantastic. La Giralda was built by the Arabs back in the day, like around 700AD I believe. Then the Catholics claimed it and built the largest Gothic cathedral in the world around it. Muy impressivo! Plus what bodily remains there are of Christopher Columbus are entombed there. The gallery had some great examples of Sevillian and Spanish art, understood more of that stuff due to art history lessons at school and uni.
Unfortunately it bucketed down with rain on Wednesday evening, until Thursday after lunch, so I got drenched repeatedly and wasn't horrendously interested in rambling the city. Plus there was a slight incident with getting my washing done. In other words, I didn't, so I may have worn some vaguely pre-loved clothes yesterday. Seven days does not a clean pair of undies make, however. I did get my washing done last night, so it's all good now! At least until Saturday!
Today, though, the sun has burst forth in all its glory for my last day here. So after this I plan to wander through the gardens and enjoy the orange trees a little bit more.
In case you're wondering, my living situation has been severely below par. The most horrendous food I have come across, Mystery Stew most days - hello random chunks marauding as carrots when in reality being sausage. I also had Heinz Baby Finger Pasta yesterday. And TOO MANY CHICKPEAS!!!! I also enjoyed the lesson on using the microwave on Wednesday morning because my hostess would be out that day. I was told most specifically not to put cutlery in the microwave and to put a cover on my plate. When I saw the inside of the microwave I did question whether it was a case of putting a bandaid on open heart surgery, but I fear my Spanish is not yet at such a sophisticated level as to convey the necessary sarcasm that would be needed to do that remark justice. Plus I can't seem to get the hot water happening. So perhaps it's a waste wearing clean undies at the moment if I'm not exactly pristine myself? I leave tomorrow - squee! - for Malága though, so I don't have to suffer uncleanliness and unidentifiable meals any longer.
Tonight Daniel, from my class, and perhaps a few others, are going to hit up a recommended tapas bar. I asked Daniel if he was interested and his response was 'Definitely! I need to get out for a night. I'm like a tightly coiled spring, I need a few looseners.' I took that as a yes. I also discovered that when visiting his brother in Sydney, he was given both VB and goon to drink. I was suitably appalled and embarrassed for all Australians. What is this 'hospitality' we're showing our foreign visitors?!
Yo, voy a plaza en pie tomar el sol. (I'm going to walk to the plaza for some sunshine.) Mañana voy a Malága por visito el Museo de Picasso. (Tomorrow I'm going to Malága to visit the Picasso gallery.)
¡Hasta luego chicos!
Monday, February 2, 2009
I Am Orange
Another plaza, Seville, 2.59pm
After a fairly quiet few days, bumming around Lagos, I'm in one of the most gorgeous cities and learning their beautiful language to boot.
My time in Lagos was fairly low key, the lady at my hostel obviously didn't approve of packet soups and made me have some of her own soup (with chickpeas in it) a couple of times, plus cake with a microwaved apple on Saturday night. Not to mention the omelettes and twenty squillion pieces of toast every morning. Going hungry was not an option. I ate these meals at night in the company of her husband (truly the ugliest person I have ever seen, cracked toad comes to mind) while watching the French news. She only spoke to me in French and who knew nine months of French lessons would be enough for me to not feel completely clueless?
I did a day trip to Sagres, which is down on the very bottom tip of Portugal and quite dramatic and gorgeous, must be fantastic in summer. The town was no great shakes, but I did enjoy watching the old boys play petanque in the square while I waited for the bus. Oh and it was windy as hell..if hell is as windy as it is hot.
Friday in Lagos the rain came through and left me with my book and a cup of tea in my princess mug. Followed by a delightfully sunny winter day on Saturday, so I could wander along the main beach and get attacked by a friendly pride of stray cats at the marina. I kid you not, at least fifteen just hanging out on the rocks, desperately rubbing against my legs, hoping for a sardine. Being the sensible traveller that I am, I didn't touch them with my hands, not wanting to be sent back to Melbourne with feline rabies or similar.
Sunday saw me on the early bus to Seville, and there I sat with ice blocks for feet for five and a half hours, so by the time I arrived in Seville I was tired, hungry, cold and needed to pee. Plus it was 8degrees and BUCKETING down with rain. Everything I could see was falling down and covered in graffiti. I was not impressed. I was yet to be delighted by Seville.
So in the pissing rain I got a taxi driver who understood my hand-drawn map to my hostess' apartment and dropped me at the end of her 'street'. I use the term loosely, to me it was a lane, like something you'd go down in Melbourne and expect to find a really awesome bar at the end of, behind the obligatory dumpster. Apparently not so here, here it actually was a one way street, cobbled, of course, and lined with apartment buildings. Under my trusty umbrella, I wheeled as fast as possible my excellently wheeled suitcase in 4WD mode, for about seven kms (probably not quite) till I found #66 and got myself inside and out of the downpour. It was so wet. You know in movies to make it extra romantic they have the two leads in the rain and in about three seconds they are drenched to the bone and you watch it and go 'oh right, SURE, it never rains like that'. This was rain like that.
Anyway, upstairs to my hostess' apartment and oh goody she doesn't speak a word of English. But boy does she like to talk. And unlike French, I don't have a CLUE what she's on about. The apartment is fine, bit old lady naff, but my room is big and it's all pretty clean. Lunch was a broth with a potato, carrots and LOTS OF CHICKPEAS..followed by the obligatory Sevillian orange. Spent a lot of time thinking what a guest in my circumstances in my parents house would get fed....mustn't dwell on the excessive chickpeas. Also staying in the apartment is a 20yr old American guy, who's here for four months learning Spanish and travelling. He speaks a reasonable amount of Spanish, but wasn't horrendously chatty so no translating there. Although he did tell me one thing I'd obviously missed from my hostess - no hot water. Apparently the German guy before me busted the hot water system and it hadn't been fixed yet. I am DEARLY HOPING that has been fixed today, because I just stuck my head under the icy water last night to wash it and almost died. Seriously unimpressed. I can deal with a chilly apartment as long as for five minutes a day I can get hot and steamy in the shower. And in another wonderful misunderstanding I couldn't work out if I had to be at school at 8 this morning, or if my hostess would be up to get me breakfast at 8. So in case it was the former, I was up at 6.30. Of course it was the latter and she got moving more at 8.15, to stick a pot of water in the microwave to make it lukewarm enough for me to have a cup of tea with my toast.
In case it hasn't been clear just yet - I was fairly unimpressed with all of this.
I also didn't have anything better than a highlighted line on a map to get me to school, not the name of the school or anything. So off I went, map in pocket, tepid tea in tummy. Found the school where it was supposed to be and only because there was a line of young people inside and it seemed to be a school. Luckily they had my name and could direct me to a classroom so at least I knew I was in the right place and there were people just as confused as me at all the insistent use of Spanish and no English. Yes, it's one of those schools. I'm all for lots of use of the language once you understand a little bit, it's just really hard concentrating and hoping you've understood correctly when you really have no idea. And seriously, when I'm asking if I have classes in the afternoon, just explain it in English because you'll just have to say it all again in English once I've given myself more wrinkles, furrowing my brow in concentration.
Anyway! Got through my two morning classes, getting the gist of it all. I now know that clock in Spanish is 'reloj' and quite possibly the hardest word to pronounce that I've ever come across.
My classes finished at 1pm, so I trundled out to find lunch and explore a bit. My school is right near the central historic bit of Seville so I didn't have to go far. And now, I love Seville! It's exactly what I romantically thought it would be, everything I couldn't see yesterday in the taxi and pouring rain. They're incredibly serious about their oranges, orange trees literally line the streets and their buildings are beautiful, churches look AMAZING from the outside and again, the coffee is excellent (although unfortunately not as cheap as Portugal). Don't think I have to be home until much later, so plenty of time to wander this afternoon, and every afternoon.
I've written heaps, I know, so I'll leave you with this....They are as serious about their bullfighting as their oranges. My hostess had a televised bullfight on the TV last night and it went for ages and it was AWFUL. There certainly wasn't any disclaimer at the end saying 'no animals were harmed in the making of this show'. I was absolutely disgusted, riding around on horses and stabbing hooks into the back of a bull? I think not. Thank goodness Seville is so beautiful, helps me forget their more violent side!
After a fairly quiet few days, bumming around Lagos, I'm in one of the most gorgeous cities and learning their beautiful language to boot.
My time in Lagos was fairly low key, the lady at my hostel obviously didn't approve of packet soups and made me have some of her own soup (with chickpeas in it) a couple of times, plus cake with a microwaved apple on Saturday night. Not to mention the omelettes and twenty squillion pieces of toast every morning. Going hungry was not an option. I ate these meals at night in the company of her husband (truly the ugliest person I have ever seen, cracked toad comes to mind) while watching the French news. She only spoke to me in French and who knew nine months of French lessons would be enough for me to not feel completely clueless?
I did a day trip to Sagres, which is down on the very bottom tip of Portugal and quite dramatic and gorgeous, must be fantastic in summer. The town was no great shakes, but I did enjoy watching the old boys play petanque in the square while I waited for the bus. Oh and it was windy as hell..if hell is as windy as it is hot.
Friday in Lagos the rain came through and left me with my book and a cup of tea in my princess mug. Followed by a delightfully sunny winter day on Saturday, so I could wander along the main beach and get attacked by a friendly pride of stray cats at the marina. I kid you not, at least fifteen just hanging out on the rocks, desperately rubbing against my legs, hoping for a sardine. Being the sensible traveller that I am, I didn't touch them with my hands, not wanting to be sent back to Melbourne with feline rabies or similar.
Sunday saw me on the early bus to Seville, and there I sat with ice blocks for feet for five and a half hours, so by the time I arrived in Seville I was tired, hungry, cold and needed to pee. Plus it was 8degrees and BUCKETING down with rain. Everything I could see was falling down and covered in graffiti. I was not impressed. I was yet to be delighted by Seville.
So in the pissing rain I got a taxi driver who understood my hand-drawn map to my hostess' apartment and dropped me at the end of her 'street'. I use the term loosely, to me it was a lane, like something you'd go down in Melbourne and expect to find a really awesome bar at the end of, behind the obligatory dumpster. Apparently not so here, here it actually was a one way street, cobbled, of course, and lined with apartment buildings. Under my trusty umbrella, I wheeled as fast as possible my excellently wheeled suitcase in 4WD mode, for about seven kms (probably not quite) till I found #66 and got myself inside and out of the downpour. It was so wet. You know in movies to make it extra romantic they have the two leads in the rain and in about three seconds they are drenched to the bone and you watch it and go 'oh right, SURE, it never rains like that'. This was rain like that.
Anyway, upstairs to my hostess' apartment and oh goody she doesn't speak a word of English. But boy does she like to talk. And unlike French, I don't have a CLUE what she's on about. The apartment is fine, bit old lady naff, but my room is big and it's all pretty clean. Lunch was a broth with a potato, carrots and LOTS OF CHICKPEAS..followed by the obligatory Sevillian orange. Spent a lot of time thinking what a guest in my circumstances in my parents house would get fed....mustn't dwell on the excessive chickpeas. Also staying in the apartment is a 20yr old American guy, who's here for four months learning Spanish and travelling. He speaks a reasonable amount of Spanish, but wasn't horrendously chatty so no translating there. Although he did tell me one thing I'd obviously missed from my hostess - no hot water. Apparently the German guy before me busted the hot water system and it hadn't been fixed yet. I am DEARLY HOPING that has been fixed today, because I just stuck my head under the icy water last night to wash it and almost died. Seriously unimpressed. I can deal with a chilly apartment as long as for five minutes a day I can get hot and steamy in the shower. And in another wonderful misunderstanding I couldn't work out if I had to be at school at 8 this morning, or if my hostess would be up to get me breakfast at 8. So in case it was the former, I was up at 6.30. Of course it was the latter and she got moving more at 8.15, to stick a pot of water in the microwave to make it lukewarm enough for me to have a cup of tea with my toast.
In case it hasn't been clear just yet - I was fairly unimpressed with all of this.
I also didn't have anything better than a highlighted line on a map to get me to school, not the name of the school or anything. So off I went, map in pocket, tepid tea in tummy. Found the school where it was supposed to be and only because there was a line of young people inside and it seemed to be a school. Luckily they had my name and could direct me to a classroom so at least I knew I was in the right place and there were people just as confused as me at all the insistent use of Spanish and no English. Yes, it's one of those schools. I'm all for lots of use of the language once you understand a little bit, it's just really hard concentrating and hoping you've understood correctly when you really have no idea. And seriously, when I'm asking if I have classes in the afternoon, just explain it in English because you'll just have to say it all again in English once I've given myself more wrinkles, furrowing my brow in concentration.
Anyway! Got through my two morning classes, getting the gist of it all. I now know that clock in Spanish is 'reloj' and quite possibly the hardest word to pronounce that I've ever come across.
My classes finished at 1pm, so I trundled out to find lunch and explore a bit. My school is right near the central historic bit of Seville so I didn't have to go far. And now, I love Seville! It's exactly what I romantically thought it would be, everything I couldn't see yesterday in the taxi and pouring rain. They're incredibly serious about their oranges, orange trees literally line the streets and their buildings are beautiful, churches look AMAZING from the outside and again, the coffee is excellent (although unfortunately not as cheap as Portugal). Don't think I have to be home until much later, so plenty of time to wander this afternoon, and every afternoon.
I've written heaps, I know, so I'll leave you with this....They are as serious about their bullfighting as their oranges. My hostess had a televised bullfight on the TV last night and it went for ages and it was AWFUL. There certainly wasn't any disclaimer at the end saying 'no animals were harmed in the making of this show'. I was absolutely disgusted, riding around on horses and stabbing hooks into the back of a bull? I think not. Thank goodness Seville is so beautiful, helps me forget their more violent side!
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