So, I have a plan. Let's see how much this changes in reality...
May:
1. Madrid-Bergamo, Italy
2. Bergamo-Venice
3. Venice
4. Venice-Cinque Terre
5. Cinque Terre
6. Cinque Terre-Florence
7. Florence
8. Florence
9. Florence-Rome
10. Rome
11. Rome
12. Rome
13. Rome
14. Rome-Sorrento
15. Sorrento (Capri)
16. Sorrento-Rome-Vienna, Austria
17. Vienna
18. Vienna
19. Vienna-Hamburg, Germany
20. Hamburg
21. Hamburg-Interlaken, Switzerland
22. Interlaken
23. Interlaken
24. Interlaken
25. Interlaken-Lucern, Switzerland
26. Lucern
27. Lucern-Geneva-Madrid
28. Madrid-USA
Monday, April 27, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Falling slowly, eyes that know me
Falling is one of those things in life that you hear grandmas talking about in their sewing circles. A broken hip here, a knee replacement there. But I have apparently begun this phase in my life much earlier than the average person.
In Santander, we stayed in a very classy hotel, where the hotel restaurant employees wear tuxedos and serve everything on silver platters. So eating in the hotel restaurant we were required to dress up. I was all decked out in a dress and heels, something I'm not totally accustomed to, but I'm trying to get more use to. As I was leaving the dining room, I somehow managed to let my heel slip on the finely polished wooden floors. As I tried to regain my balance, I continued to take more steps, as my body made its way closer and closer to the ground. So for about 8 feet, I was stumbling/attempting to regain my balance, all the while slipping more and more. I must have taken at least 5 more steps in the process of trying to stand back up. But at last, gravity won, and my left knee took a great fall. As I finally hit the ground, the waiter in his penguin suit ran over to help me up, but I just crumpled to the ground once again.
In a fit of confusion, pain, and embarrassment, I entered laugh/cry mode. The same type of laugh/cry I experience when I don't know if I'm actually hurt, or if I'm just in shock from the previous five seconds of embarrassment. The same type of laugh/cry I did when I tore every tendon and ligament in my ankle, and my friends thought I was just laughing. I still didn't know if my ACL was intact at this point, because I couldn't gather myself enough to acknowledge what was real pain and what was embarrassment.
The guys from our group ran over and helped me into a chair, the waiter ran and got a bag of ice, and in Spanish he was giving me directions to the hotel's doctor. All the while, the other restaurant guests are trying to enjoy a quiet meal. Needless to say, I spent the rest of the night with a bag of ice on my knee in bed, while everyone went out.
The following morning at breakfast, evidence remained from my great fall. My shoes left a giant black mark on the hardwood floors that spanned the entire 8 feet of my fall. At least I left my mark on Spain in one way or another.
In Santander, we stayed in a very classy hotel, where the hotel restaurant employees wear tuxedos and serve everything on silver platters. So eating in the hotel restaurant we were required to dress up. I was all decked out in a dress and heels, something I'm not totally accustomed to, but I'm trying to get more use to. As I was leaving the dining room, I somehow managed to let my heel slip on the finely polished wooden floors. As I tried to regain my balance, I continued to take more steps, as my body made its way closer and closer to the ground. So for about 8 feet, I was stumbling/attempting to regain my balance, all the while slipping more and more. I must have taken at least 5 more steps in the process of trying to stand back up. But at last, gravity won, and my left knee took a great fall. As I finally hit the ground, the waiter in his penguin suit ran over to help me up, but I just crumpled to the ground once again.
Here is actual footage of the event:
In a fit of confusion, pain, and embarrassment, I entered laugh/cry mode. The same type of laugh/cry I experience when I don't know if I'm actually hurt, or if I'm just in shock from the previous five seconds of embarrassment. The same type of laugh/cry I did when I tore every tendon and ligament in my ankle, and my friends thought I was just laughing. I still didn't know if my ACL was intact at this point, because I couldn't gather myself enough to acknowledge what was real pain and what was embarrassment.
The guys from our group ran over and helped me into a chair, the waiter ran and got a bag of ice, and in Spanish he was giving me directions to the hotel's doctor. All the while, the other restaurant guests are trying to enjoy a quiet meal. Needless to say, I spent the rest of the night with a bag of ice on my knee in bed, while everyone went out.
The following morning at breakfast, evidence remained from my great fall. My shoes left a giant black mark on the hardwood floors that spanned the entire 8 feet of my fall. At least I left my mark on Spain in one way or another.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
I´m alive and full of free Ben and Jerry´s
Let me just say I am not sorry for the lack of updates. I will not be whipped by the internet.
But on the other hand, I have been so ridiculously on the go for the last month or so, with trip after trip, and paper after paper due in my classes. But I have finally reached a point where I can breath, and pause from planning more travels for at least an hour or so.
I don’t even know where to begin. I guess with spring break. My vacation from this semester long vacation was April 3rd-13th. I spent the first seven days with my parents, who came to visit for a little bit. I was basically tour-guide-Hannah for that week, guiding them around Salamanca, Barcelona, Valencia, and Madrid. Funny story about Barcelona. We took the night train, to save our valuable day time, but what we didn’t know was that the sleeper beds are only 6 feet long. And my dad is about 6 foot 2. So that was less that comfortable.
Once in Barcelona, we stayed in this great little rental apartment that was decked out like an Ikea showroom. I took my parents to see my favorite sites in Barcelona, including la Sagrada Familia and Parc Guell. The fact that I had been almost everywhere that we visited made everything go so smoothly, and it was a pretty easy trip. From Barcelona, we spent one night in Valencia, while it rained the entire time unfortunately, and then one night in Madrid.
Some of the many reasons it is great for parents to visit on spring break:
I ate more than peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch every day.
Wine at every meal.
I only spent 5 euro for those seven days (unheard of).
Oh yeah, and I guess I missed them and it was good to get some lovin.
After my parents left from Madrid, I flew into Dublin for the remaining four days of break! I caught an immediate bus from Dublin to Galway, a four hour ride to the west coast of the country. There, I met up with two of my friends in our hostel and spent the rest of spring break in Ireland with them. It only rained that night, and we were so blessed with sunny blue skies for the rest of the weekend (also unheard of). We were in a 6 person dorm at the hostel, and one of the girls was from Arlington, and went to Park View High School, my rival school. Small world, seriously.
We spent Saturday in an area outside of Galway, called the Burren, where we took a bus tour. We stopped at a small family farm where we took a guided hike through some of the mountains and learned a lot about the history of the region and got to see some beautiful scenery. After enjoying apple pie and coffee by the fireside in their farm house, we got back on the bus and went to the Cliffs of Moher. The Cliffs of Moher are trying to become the 8th wonder of the world. Sounds to me like they better start trying a lot harder, because I had never even heard of them before, although they were definitely breathtaking.
We got back to Galway after our day tour of the Burren and caught the next bus to Dublin. We really lucked out in Dublin, because our hostel screwed up our reservation, so they bumped us up to one of their apartments. Which meant we didn’t have to worry about sleeping with strangers (which I try to avoid as a general rule in life), AND we got to cook. AND for the first time since the beginning of January, I got to sleep in a full sized bed in a room all to myself. What a gift.
In Dublin, we kept things pretty relaxed—we toured Trinity College, saw the Book of Kells, toured the Guinness Storehouse, and attempted to go to Christ’s Church Cathedral on Easter. I made history by having my first Guinness while in Ireland, and boy am I a changed woman. Definitely my favorite beer by a long shot—something about it not being carbonated, and the thick, chocolaty, bold flavor. So touring the Guinness Storehouse was obviously my favorite part. We learned all about the different ingredients in Guinness, how they brew it, the history, how to properly pour a pint from a tap, and of course, how to drink a pint. We got to practice that plenty.
Ireland was such a great taste of the U.S. just because everybody spoke English, people dressed casual like I’m used to, and they were friendly beyond belief. As different from Spain as possible, where I’m use to everyone being dressed up all the time and me getting glared at for wearing chacos. And people actually smiled in Ireland! I forgot that people know how to smile! Spain really is great, but it’s severely lacking in the friendliness category.
Since I’ve been back in Spain, I had three papers due, a presentation, an oral exam, and a three-day trip to Cantabria, a northern region of Spain. Cantabria was absolutely, without a doubt, my favorite excursion. I know I have probably said that about all of them, but this was our last one, and it was the best. In one day´s time we spent the morning hiking through snow covered mountains in Picos de Europa, and in the evening, we were walking through the sandy beaches of Santander. SO bizarre. In Picos de Europa, we stayed in a parador, which is typically a historical castle or building of some sort, that has been converted into a hotel. This parador didn’t seem to resemble anything historic, but it was great regardless. It was situated at the base of some of the largest mountains I have ever been to. To finally be out of the city, and in an area where the only thing to do was hike was absolutely refreshing. While some other students from my group walked seven kilometers to get to the closest pueblo to buy beer from vending machines, I spent the afternoon in the peaks hiking with a small group of friends. We finally got to a point where we found what looked like a dried up riverbed going straight down the mountain, but it was filled with snow. And we basically went “skiing” down the riverbed in our shoes. The snow was almost solid enough to slide the whole way down without much effort, and once we got to the bottom, we realized the snow was so dry that our clothes and shoes barely got wet.
The following morning, our group took a cable car all the way to the top of the mountain. We spent a few hours soaking in the view, taking tons of pictures, and getting in a snowball fight with a bunch of drunk Spaniards. That was then followed by a 2 hour ride on the bus, and then an afternoon walking along the beach. Spain has it all.
And in 10 days I leave this great little country for a little place I like to call Italia. Let the month of nomadism begin!
But on the other hand, I have been so ridiculously on the go for the last month or so, with trip after trip, and paper after paper due in my classes. But I have finally reached a point where I can breath, and pause from planning more travels for at least an hour or so.
I don’t even know where to begin. I guess with spring break. My vacation from this semester long vacation was April 3rd-13th. I spent the first seven days with my parents, who came to visit for a little bit. I was basically tour-guide-Hannah for that week, guiding them around Salamanca, Barcelona, Valencia, and Madrid. Funny story about Barcelona. We took the night train, to save our valuable day time, but what we didn’t know was that the sleeper beds are only 6 feet long. And my dad is about 6 foot 2. So that was less that comfortable.
Once in Barcelona, we stayed in this great little rental apartment that was decked out like an Ikea showroom. I took my parents to see my favorite sites in Barcelona, including la Sagrada Familia and Parc Guell. The fact that I had been almost everywhere that we visited made everything go so smoothly, and it was a pretty easy trip. From Barcelona, we spent one night in Valencia, while it rained the entire time unfortunately, and then one night in Madrid.
Some of the many reasons it is great for parents to visit on spring break:
I ate more than peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch every day.
Wine at every meal.
I only spent 5 euro for those seven days (unheard of).
Oh yeah, and I guess I missed them and it was good to get some lovin.
After my parents left from Madrid, I flew into Dublin for the remaining four days of break! I caught an immediate bus from Dublin to Galway, a four hour ride to the west coast of the country. There, I met up with two of my friends in our hostel and spent the rest of spring break in Ireland with them. It only rained that night, and we were so blessed with sunny blue skies for the rest of the weekend (also unheard of). We were in a 6 person dorm at the hostel, and one of the girls was from Arlington, and went to Park View High School, my rival school. Small world, seriously.
We spent Saturday in an area outside of Galway, called the Burren, where we took a bus tour. We stopped at a small family farm where we took a guided hike through some of the mountains and learned a lot about the history of the region and got to see some beautiful scenery. After enjoying apple pie and coffee by the fireside in their farm house, we got back on the bus and went to the Cliffs of Moher. The Cliffs of Moher are trying to become the 8th wonder of the world. Sounds to me like they better start trying a lot harder, because I had never even heard of them before, although they were definitely breathtaking.
We got back to Galway after our day tour of the Burren and caught the next bus to Dublin. We really lucked out in Dublin, because our hostel screwed up our reservation, so they bumped us up to one of their apartments. Which meant we didn’t have to worry about sleeping with strangers (which I try to avoid as a general rule in life), AND we got to cook. AND for the first time since the beginning of January, I got to sleep in a full sized bed in a room all to myself. What a gift.
In Dublin, we kept things pretty relaxed—we toured Trinity College, saw the Book of Kells, toured the Guinness Storehouse, and attempted to go to Christ’s Church Cathedral on Easter. I made history by having my first Guinness while in Ireland, and boy am I a changed woman. Definitely my favorite beer by a long shot—something about it not being carbonated, and the thick, chocolaty, bold flavor. So touring the Guinness Storehouse was obviously my favorite part. We learned all about the different ingredients in Guinness, how they brew it, the history, how to properly pour a pint from a tap, and of course, how to drink a pint. We got to practice that plenty.
Ireland was such a great taste of the U.S. just because everybody spoke English, people dressed casual like I’m used to, and they were friendly beyond belief. As different from Spain as possible, where I’m use to everyone being dressed up all the time and me getting glared at for wearing chacos. And people actually smiled in Ireland! I forgot that people know how to smile! Spain really is great, but it’s severely lacking in the friendliness category.
Since I’ve been back in Spain, I had three papers due, a presentation, an oral exam, and a three-day trip to Cantabria, a northern region of Spain. Cantabria was absolutely, without a doubt, my favorite excursion. I know I have probably said that about all of them, but this was our last one, and it was the best. In one day´s time we spent the morning hiking through snow covered mountains in Picos de Europa, and in the evening, we were walking through the sandy beaches of Santander. SO bizarre. In Picos de Europa, we stayed in a parador, which is typically a historical castle or building of some sort, that has been converted into a hotel. This parador didn’t seem to resemble anything historic, but it was great regardless. It was situated at the base of some of the largest mountains I have ever been to. To finally be out of the city, and in an area where the only thing to do was hike was absolutely refreshing. While some other students from my group walked seven kilometers to get to the closest pueblo to buy beer from vending machines, I spent the afternoon in the peaks hiking with a small group of friends. We finally got to a point where we found what looked like a dried up riverbed going straight down the mountain, but it was filled with snow. And we basically went “skiing” down the riverbed in our shoes. The snow was almost solid enough to slide the whole way down without much effort, and once we got to the bottom, we realized the snow was so dry that our clothes and shoes barely got wet.
The following morning, our group took a cable car all the way to the top of the mountain. We spent a few hours soaking in the view, taking tons of pictures, and getting in a snowball fight with a bunch of drunk Spaniards. That was then followed by a 2 hour ride on the bus, and then an afternoon walking along the beach. Spain has it all.
And in 10 days I leave this great little country for a little place I like to call Italia. Let the month of nomadism begin!
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