(?)We made our way from Barcelona to La Spezia via a series of blabla cars, with a pit stop in Montpellier. I'm not sure if Paris had just left such a horrible taste in our mouths that we couldn't enjoy it, or if we truly just don't like France. Either way, it was not our favorite. Another learning experience! So sappy, I know. The day in Montpellier started off pretty rough. We arrived before our airbnb host was home, so we waited at a nearby park where we were immediately approached by two men, one with his pants unzipped, who harassed us about how much America sucks (we know, we know man!) and also showed us his favorite statue, who's head, when he touched it, tumbled to the ground. WHAT?! We left the park with all our gear, pretty sure we were being followed, and walked aimlessly around in the rain until our host got home. He informed us that we could hang out in the living room for a while because our room wouldn't be ready for about 4 hours, which we thought was super obnoxious until we actually saw our room which was a literal hole in the wall, and then booked it back up to the living room. Rachel was pretty sick and opted to stay in the hole for the rest of the night. Despite her cautions, I ventured out into the city, mace in hand, and found myself a little grocery store. Lots of deep breaths (but really, probably the mace) made me feel calm and, if i'm being totally honest, a bit badass for braving the streets alone. I returned to the airbnb, which was essentially more of a hostel (I don't know what we expected for 20 bucks a night) and ended up having a pretty fun evening, chatting with the other guests. After the experience in Montpellier, we decided to splurge on our airbnb in La Spezia, Italy. And it was one of the best decisions of our trip. We had the entire place to ourselves and were able to totally relax. The photo above was the view from our skylight. The 10 flights of stairs to the top of the building were totally worth it to have our own private porthole through which we watched the sunsets and thunderstorms. And, to make it fun (?), I tried to kick my butt as I ran up each stair. Hard, I tell you!!! ^^ We had planned to hike between all the cities in Cinque Terre, but hadn't done our research and unfortunately, 4 of the 5 trails were closed. But we were able to hike the one that was open. It was supposed to be about a 2 hour downhill hike, but like the idiots we are, we went the wrong direction, so it was all uphill. A MILLION stairs. But it was good exercise, and I made a super cool trail running video ;) Also, Rachel made me carry our greasy trash the whole way. That brown bag tied to my backpack just bounced the whole time, slowly unravelling. The views were incredible, and I cannot tell you how amazing the sun felt. (The day I wore shorts in El Vendrell, Pau looked at my legs, eyes wide, and said matter-of-factly with slight concern "Elle. You need to go to the beach and get some sun.") More of the hike below. ^^ If only my hair always dried this naturally good and wavy! Ah, humidity, how I love and miss you. ^^ After the hike, we jumped into the ocean to cool off. Cinque Terre, thank you for being a moment of reprieve!
0 Comments
While I was living in Seattle, Pau came and couchsurfed at my house. He told me to come visit in Spain, which I took very literally. It was so amazing of him to host me and Rachel in his hometown, El Vendrell. We had an incredible time with him and his friends and we really got a taste of the local Catalonian culture. Rachel and I were so intrigued by all of their customs and traditions. (Pau leads me and Rachel along the dark streets and into a garage to see "the dragon." His friends are all sitting tightly inside smoking, listening to metal. They charge 25 cents for a beer. They're speaking a mix of Catalan and Spanish, and I'm lucky to catch a few words. Rachel and I exchange lots of glances, eyebrow raises, as we sit and soak in the moment. After a while, Pau gives us a tour of garage, which hosts the massive dragon. He and his friends have inherited the responsibility of the dragon from their parents who built and operated it ages ago. They, like their parents did before them, parade the fire-shooting dragon around in festivals. Pau lights one firework to give us an idea of the massiveness of the show; in a festival there would be tons of fireworks going off continually. During the festivals, little "flys"- as Pau first described, but which we later learned were fleas (I mean I wouldn't know the difference in Spanish, let alone any insects in Spanish)- swarm the dragon, and they all dance together. (See videos below for my attempt, and Pau's correction.) After a few hours hanging in the garage waiting for the rain to subside, and many quiet exchanges between Rachel and me noting how hungry we secretly were, we all go to a neighborhood fast food joint for some pizza. (Spaniards eat LATE.) It is a wonderful night.
^^ Pau's cute voice in the background :) ^^ If only you could have seen us running through the metro station to meet up with Pau after our stay in Barcelona... We weren't exactly sure where we were supposed to meet him (It's like we never learned or something! 😉); we had thought it would be some obvious location, but what is obvious to everyone else is never obvious to me and Rachel (see all the future blog posts to come.) So I circled the station a good 14 times looking for Pau, while Rachel stayed at the entrance trying to contact him via Facebook, asking me what he looked like to which I kept replying "brown hair, brown eyes, like every other freaking person here." The train only runs once an hour to El Vendrell , and we were sure we'd missed it- and Pau. But! He came running up and we had just enough time to hug and kiss kiss before we piled through the turnstile, one ticket between the three of us, ran down into to the steamy station, and jumped onto the train as the doors shut behind us. ^^ Human castles- another Catalonian tradition. This was such a fun night too! We watched the human castle practice, and then stayed around for a huge town dinner outside. I felt such a sense of community there which was amazing, but also illuminated the absence thereof at home. Other not-pictured, but equally cherished moments from El Vendrell:
Going to a tiny local anarchist bar, where we listened to revolutionary Catalan songs and laughed to find ourselves unknowingly involved in a song/game about which we were totally cluless. The game involved each person adding a word to some Catalan song (i.e. first person says "la nena" second person says "la nena estaba contenta" third person says "la nena estava content perquè...." etc.. Other than Pau and a few of his friends, no one else in the bar knew that Rachel and I were foreigners, and so when it it got to me, I just stared blankly drawing out a long "uhhhhhhhh." But it was so fun just to be there and see what kinds of similar things can draw people together all over the world, even if we don't always understand each other. Having a barbecue with Pau's friends where we ate delicious food, drank all sorts of exciting drinks, played a funny game called Pim Pom Poom, and hung around for hours. Walking along the beach and dipping our toes in, even though the locals thought we were silly. What I learned about El Vendrell is that no one seems to be in a rush. Friends gather and talk for hours; people essentially just enjoy each others' company. It was so so lovely, and I want to go back. Thank you Pau (and friends) for the most amazing stay! As our plane was taking off from Paris, the blood moon rose up over the horizon. It made for the most beautiful flight I've ever taken, and was a much needed omen of better things to come. When we arrived at the airport in Barcelona, we realized that we probably should have figured out directions to our airbnb beforehand. With no wifi, we decided to wing it and use our street smarts (lol) to find a bus that we though might possibly take us in the direction of our place (though how we knew that, I do not know, seeing as we didn't actually know where we were trying to go.) Because I was apprehensive about using my "half-spanish" as Rachel called it, I was of no help at all. When we arrived at the street where we thought our Airbnb should be, we realized that, in addition to not having written down directions, we had also not written down the street number, nor the apartment number. 10 streetwise points for that. So the evening consisted of us pacing around up and down the street for a while, until someone shouted from a 5th story window, "Elizabeth! Hello!" By some miracle, our airbnb host had walked out on the balcony and saw two idiots pacing the street. So that is how we found our place. In the warm, humid air that night, I felt independent and strong. ^^ These cute lil guys are real succulent magnets! ^^ View from our balcony. ^^ Because I am a horrible fangirl, I forced Rachel to come with me to a Sufjan Stevens concert in Barcelona. (It took all my willpower not to attend his other concerts in France and Switzerland. But I didn't want to come off too desperate, you know?) Bonus- Austra was headlining, so it really doesn't get any better than that! Sufjan + Austra + Rachel + cheap wine made for a perfect evening. By the time the concert was over, there was just 1 more train running back to the city center. So we all ran to the metro station and crammed in. The entire train was full of people from the concert, and everyone was singing Sufjan songs. It's funny how experiences that are so silly and trivial can mean so much; but as I swayed, squished between strangers, to the oscillation of the sweaty train, smiling at Rachel from afar and listening to a mescla of rapid Catalan, Spanish, and accented Sufjan songs, I felt content. We all had this thing in common. I don't know. It was small, but it made me feel really alive. ^^ Sagrada Familia is absolutely incredible! ^^ So incredible that I tried to sneak in after hours. ^^ I had been craving these waffles since Jon and I visited Barcelona a few years ago. Yum! The day we had to leave our Airbnb, it rained. My backpack felt extra heavy that day, but I made it. We wandered into Satan's coffee shop for shelter, sipped on cappuccinos, and ate tasty croissants with marmalade. You guys. I left my heart in Barcelona. I would have stayed forever if Rachel would've let me. I am determined to find a way to live there. It's not like I just moved or anything. But really. Links to my favorites of Barcelona:
Satan's Coffee Corner La Boquería (my favorite market in all the world. read more about it from this old blog post.) **EDIT: In light of the recent attacks in Paris, I feel the need to preface my post. I was planning to post this the day of the attacks, but the timing seemed inappropriate. I want to share a few things that have been on my mind. Today I am thinking about Paris, but I am also thinking of the various tragedies that are occurring around the world. Yesterday, today. Daily. Not just the ones affecting "1st world" countries, but also the ones we tend to ignore. The ones that have been caused by our government, our consumption habits, our wars. To the people being horribly abused in the banana fields, I am thinking of you. To the thousands of immigrants dying as they cross the Mexican/US border, my thoughts are with you. To the Lebanese bombing victims of only a few days ago, my thoughts are with you. Everyone in Paris, I am thinking of you. Syrian refugees and south Sudanese women in displacement camps, I am thinking about you. Prisoners here in the US who are being horribly mistreated, my thoughts are with you. Black and brown people who must live in fear of our police, I am thinking of you. You all matter. You are all important.** Paris, man. Paris was one of those time you look back on and wonder if it ever happened- cringe a bit, pat yourself on the back, roll your eyes, and relish in your current safety. These were the experiences I was looking for; this is why I went on the trip. I mean, no, I wasn't particularly trying to get roofied or have a shitty time. Obviously. But I learned so much about myself. Cheers to self-discovery and evading sketchy men! ^^ The morning after the alleged roofie incident, Rachel and I stumbled around town looking for coffee. Seeing the blurred "Cafe Cotton" sign in the distance was like a wonderful mirage. We approached, only to discover that Cafe Cotton was a literal store of cotton, not a cafe. I believe I actually cried. But! Not long after, we found a real cafe in which we acknowledged the absurdity of our situation, drank away our sorrows, and laughed uncontrollably. Seriously, uncontrollably. We walked miles that day, laughing and crying through the intermittent bouts of nausea. We ended up at Monmarte where was sat for hours, making silly faces, warding of selfie-stick and beer vendors, and watching this cool soccer player do acrobatics on the light post. We then accidentally used our last remaining metro tickets to take a glass elevator down the hill, when we would have been perfectly suited to take the stairs. And then we were done. That was Paris.
After Switzerland, my dad and I drove to Rothenburg ob der Tauber, this cool medieval walled city in Germany. It is such a charming town. I loved all the colorful buildings and the crooked rooftops. We walked atop the wall along the perimeter of the town, which provided views of cobblestone roads and garden terraces inside, and lush pastures out. ^^ I have a mild obsession with doors and windows, locks and keys. We finished off our trip in Fussen, Germany with these storybook castles. Photos below.
We made our way down from Wengen, trading icy mountains for grazing sheep and cows with bells. I can't actually remember the name of this town, but it was so adorable. We parked near the loveliest cemetery (each grave had it's own bed of flowers!) and then hiked to some "indoor waterfalls" as I keep calling them, though that's definitely not what they're called. This cave housed 15 or so waterfalls inside, and you could hike from one to the next. Lots and lots of stairs!
|
ELLEfeminist. linguist. traveller. foodie. crafter. ARCHIVES
January 2018
Categories
All
All photos are the property of Elizabeth Cheney and may not be used without permission.
|