are stupid.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
An Aussie, a Kiwi, an Irish Man, and Two Americans Walk Into a Bar...
Last weekend I hopped on a bus and went to Lisbon with Robyn and Karen. (Okay, maybe it wasn’t exactly a hop and it was more like a 10-hour bus ride of doom, but it was worth it. So so worth it.)
I was pretty sure the trip was destined to fail since a) it would be my first time traveling without the super savvy rents and b) because I’m not the best planner. But somehow without even trying we planned the perfect trip. The itinerary was the following:
DAY 1:
We arrived in Lisbon at 5 in the morning? 6? I don’t remember. Whatever the time was it was too early. We walked into our hostel and although it was too early to check in we put our stuff in storage and relaxed in the common room. Notice Robyn diligently planning our trip. “Momma” then made us eggs and toast and we made our first hostel friend! Brian, another American, who just graduated UCLA and was traveling alone before he goes to work in a consulting firm in San Fran. Turns out he was on the same bus as us and thus was also awake at yuck 'o clock in the morning.
Although we spent all of breakfast flipping through travel guides for Lisbon we were still at a loss and couldn’t decide what to do first. So we asked one of the people working at the hostel, Joao, for recommendations. Luckily, Joao just happened to be the nicest and the most knowledgeable person in the world because he ended up planning an entire itinerary for us, highlighted map and all. And so we were off! Our first experience of Lisbon had begun.
Somehow I became in charge of the map and led us around Joao’s route of sweet sites to see in Lisbon. I led us to some pretty cool places:
… but of course got us lost as well:
Soon it started raining and we decided that the only REASONABLE thing to do would be to stop at a free wine tasting place (once again suggested my Joao) and try Portuguese wine until the rain stops.
The tasting was free as long as we left detailed descriptions of each wine including how much we would pay for a bottle, what food we would eat the wine with, how the wine smelled, etc. Obviously, with my plethora of wine experience (ummmm Franzia?) I gave them a lot of great answers. (i.e: How does this wine taste: makes my tongue feel funny! What would you eat with this wine: meat? How does the wine smell: Shmeh.)
After a fun day of gallivanting (where really I only got us lost once… maybe twice) we went back to the hostel for Joao’s roasted sausage dinner. The Sangria was unlimited, the cheese tasted like butter and we met tons of cool people. Including Mana:
The cutest Japanese man ever. Who literally squatted next to us as he told us that he really should stop drinking since he is a lightweight (He didn’t stop). Eventually a couple of the people in our hostel asked us if we wanted to go out and even though we were exhausted from the bus ride we decided that as it could be the only Friday night we ever spend in Lisbon, we better go out. And that is how an Aussie, a Kiwi, a Japanese Man, an Irish Man, a Brit and two American girls, ended up in a bar in Lisbon.
DAY TWO:
I’ve realized that I miiiiight be blathering on too much about how much I love Lisbon. So here’s a quick summary of Day two in picture form!
Hopped on the Tram 28:
Went to a Flea Market:
Visited a Monastery with a sweet view:
Had the best five euro home made burgers (with avocado) eveeeeerrrr:
Randomly saw a peacock on the street:
Visited a castle and pretended blow up some invaders:
Went on the Pub Crawl with these fools:
Okay! The café I’m at is getting busy and I’ve finished my coffee ages ago, so the rest of my Lisbon adventuring will just have to wait till tomorrow. Hopefully I’ve done an okay job conveying how amazing Lisbon was. I’m not even entirely sure why I fell in love with it. If I was a real adult that could use words instead of shmehs and smileys and, you know, if I was emotionally aware, I’d explain it with real words. But the best I can say is Lisbon = love. :)
Yes that IS a picture of me falling in love with a pineapple. It was a damn good pineapple.
I was pretty sure the trip was destined to fail since a) it would be my first time traveling without the super savvy rents and b) because I’m not the best planner. But somehow without even trying we planned the perfect trip. The itinerary was the following:
DAY 1:
We arrived in Lisbon at 5 in the morning? 6? I don’t remember. Whatever the time was it was too early. We walked into our hostel and although it was too early to check in we put our stuff in storage and relaxed in the common room. Notice Robyn diligently planning our trip. “Momma” then made us eggs and toast and we made our first hostel friend! Brian, another American, who just graduated UCLA and was traveling alone before he goes to work in a consulting firm in San Fran. Turns out he was on the same bus as us and thus was also awake at yuck 'o clock in the morning.
Although we spent all of breakfast flipping through travel guides for Lisbon we were still at a loss and couldn’t decide what to do first. So we asked one of the people working at the hostel, Joao, for recommendations. Luckily, Joao just happened to be the nicest and the most knowledgeable person in the world because he ended up planning an entire itinerary for us, highlighted map and all. And so we were off! Our first experience of Lisbon had begun.
Somehow I became in charge of the map and led us around Joao’s route of sweet sites to see in Lisbon. I led us to some pretty cool places:
… but of course got us lost as well:
Soon it started raining and we decided that the only REASONABLE thing to do would be to stop at a free wine tasting place (once again suggested my Joao) and try Portuguese wine until the rain stops.
The tasting was free as long as we left detailed descriptions of each wine including how much we would pay for a bottle, what food we would eat the wine with, how the wine smelled, etc. Obviously, with my plethora of wine experience (ummmm Franzia?) I gave them a lot of great answers. (i.e: How does this wine taste: makes my tongue feel funny! What would you eat with this wine: meat? How does the wine smell: Shmeh.)
After a fun day of gallivanting (where really I only got us lost once… maybe twice) we went back to the hostel for Joao’s roasted sausage dinner. The Sangria was unlimited, the cheese tasted like butter and we met tons of cool people. Including Mana: 
The cutest Japanese man ever. Who literally squatted next to us as he told us that he really should stop drinking since he is a lightweight (He didn’t stop). Eventually a couple of the people in our hostel asked us if we wanted to go out and even though we were exhausted from the bus ride we decided that as it could be the only Friday night we ever spend in Lisbon, we better go out. And that is how an Aussie, a Kiwi, a Japanese Man, an Irish Man, a Brit and two American girls, ended up in a bar in Lisbon.
DAY TWO:
I’ve realized that I miiiiight be blathering on too much about how much I love Lisbon. So here’s a quick summary of Day two in picture form!
Hopped on the Tram 28:
Went to a Flea Market:
Visited a Monastery with a sweet view:
Had the best five euro home made burgers (with avocado) eveeeeerrrr:
Randomly saw a peacock on the street:
Visited a castle and pretended blow up some invaders:
Went on the Pub Crawl with these fools:
Okay! The café I’m at is getting busy and I’ve finished my coffee ages ago, so the rest of my Lisbon adventuring will just have to wait till tomorrow. Hopefully I’ve done an okay job conveying how amazing Lisbon was. I’m not even entirely sure why I fell in love with it. If I was a real adult that could use words instead of shmehs and smileys and, you know, if I was emotionally aware, I’d explain it with real words. But the best I can say is Lisbon = love. :)
Yes that IS a picture of me falling in love with a pineapple. It was a damn good pineapple.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Accomplishments
The thing about me in Spain is that the smallest thing makes me feel as though I've accomplished tons of work. For example, today I bought myself stamps and mailed a post card. In the United States this would probably be something I accomplish as a side note on my way to doing whatever I actually needed to be doing at the time. In Spain, this was an earth-shattering break through that took up a good portion of my day.
It started in the wee early hours of the morning on my way to class. I needed stamps. I could not put it off any longer. It was time to pick a store and just ask if they sell stamps. So after mentally bracing myself outside of a tourist shop with a relatively friendly looking shop attendant for entirely too long , I marched on in and, ever so intelligently, asked, "Can I buy chairs here?" Turns out sillas means chairs. Sellos means stamps. Go figure. Ten minutes, a couple of shmehs, and a few arm flails later, the shop attendant kindly informed me that I could buy stamps at the tobacco store a block away.
So after my first class, I went to said tobacco store and this time asked for STAMPS and not CHAIRS. The shop attendant, an old man who looked a little like albert einstein if albert einstein had spent all his time in the sun and not... being smart, understood me, repeated what I asked with a beautiful Spanish accent. He then asked me how many I would need and BAM! I busted out the big palabras and asked how many stamps I would need to mail a card to the good ole US of A. He once again repeated my question, as if to mock my terrible accent, but nevertheless answered my question and totally understood me! I was possibly the most accomplished woman in the world! I had just bought STAMPS. From a STORE. My quota for awesomeness for the day had been filled. I sat in my next class and just stared smugly at the teacher. I had bought stamps. I didn't need to pay attention. "Entiendes?"he would say every couple of minutes to make sure we were all following and I would just stare back. My quota was full. I would not be "entiending" anything else for the day thank you very much.
On my way back home with Robyn, I decided I would go ahead and mail the letter. (Even though I had already done so much for the day).
I found one of the yellow mailboxes that are around the city and figured it would be a simple "put your mail here" experience. Wrong. So wrong. I asked Robyn to wait for a minute and crossed the street to the deceivingly innocent looking mailbox and tried sliding my postcard between what looked like the only opening on the contraption. WRONG AGAIN. Apparently, that was just for show and wasn't ACTUALLY an opening. As I walked around the mailbox awkwardly poking at it a more and more people started watching, until finally a sweet old man came over and opened the supersecretbutatthesametimesoobvious handle and put in my post card without a word. I said gracias and all the onlookers went back to their daily lives. When I walked back to Robyn (who at this point was laughing hysterically), she kindly informed me that Pablo, aka photography teacher, aka second hottest person in Cordoba, (aka I had to drop the class because his hottness was too distracting), walked by and probably witnessed the whole thing.
The End.
______________________
Spanish- Clearly learned tons.
Fun- ..... ..... ummmm?
Heels- ... getting to it.
It started in the wee early hours of the morning on my way to class. I needed stamps. I could not put it off any longer. It was time to pick a store and just ask if they sell stamps. So after mentally bracing myself outside of a tourist shop with a relatively friendly looking shop attendant for entirely too long , I marched on in and, ever so intelligently, asked, "Can I buy chairs here?" Turns out sillas means chairs. Sellos means stamps. Go figure. Ten minutes, a couple of shmehs, and a few arm flails later, the shop attendant kindly informed me that I could buy stamps at the tobacco store a block away.
So after my first class, I went to said tobacco store and this time asked for STAMPS and not CHAIRS. The shop attendant, an old man who looked a little like albert einstein if albert einstein had spent all his time in the sun and not... being smart, understood me, repeated what I asked with a beautiful Spanish accent. He then asked me how many I would need and BAM! I busted out the big palabras and asked how many stamps I would need to mail a card to the good ole US of A. He once again repeated my question, as if to mock my terrible accent, but nevertheless answered my question and totally understood me! I was possibly the most accomplished woman in the world! I had just bought STAMPS. From a STORE. My quota for awesomeness for the day had been filled. I sat in my next class and just stared smugly at the teacher. I had bought stamps. I didn't need to pay attention. "Entiendes?"he would say every couple of minutes to make sure we were all following and I would just stare back. My quota was full. I would not be "entiending" anything else for the day thank you very much.
On my way back home with Robyn, I decided I would go ahead and mail the letter. (Even though I had already done so much for the day).
I found one of the yellow mailboxes that are around the city and figured it would be a simple "put your mail here" experience. Wrong. So wrong. I asked Robyn to wait for a minute and crossed the street to the deceivingly innocent looking mailbox and tried sliding my postcard between what looked like the only opening on the contraption. WRONG AGAIN. Apparently, that was just for show and wasn't ACTUALLY an opening. As I walked around the mailbox awkwardly poking at it a more and more people started watching, until finally a sweet old man came over and opened the supersecretbutatthesametimesoobvious handle and put in my post card without a word. I said gracias and all the onlookers went back to their daily lives. When I walked back to Robyn (who at this point was laughing hysterically), she kindly informed me that Pablo, aka photography teacher, aka second hottest person in Cordoba, (aka I had to drop the class because his hottness was too distracting), walked by and probably witnessed the whole thing. The End.
______________________
Spanish- Clearly learned tons.
Fun- ..... ..... ummmm?
Heels- ... getting to it.
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