Well, it’s my last day.

I’m not really sure what to do with myself at the moment. Pack, obviously. Walk around, I guess. Maybe check out the museum I never saw. In some aspects, it feels like the right time to go. The butter in the fridge is just starting to go bad, and God knows when Katy will get around to buying more—not so popular here. I am still as in love with all my friends here as I ever was, but I have come to terms with the fact that we can all hang out like… Monday in Boston. I’m happy with how far I’ve gotten with Spanish. 

But how does one leave this? Some things have just become so normal, like the housekeeper, Anna, and the conversations we have every morning when I wake up too late and she’s in the next room making lunch. The shriveled up half-lemons and tomatoes on the windowsill. I mean I’m all for avoiding waste, but obviously we’re not going to eat those. When I go back, am I still going to flock towards potato chips and peanut butter whenever I see them? Never really had an interest in them back home. Jamón can’t be imported into the US. How can I live without my favorite cured meat? Going to Retiro every day to lay in the sun and play cards has just become too normal.

There’s a lot more I can say, but I really should get out of bed and enjoy my last day. As my friend and I were discussing yesterday, what’s so weird about leaving this is the fact that it’s actually gone forever. We can leave home for school, leave school for home, but it’s not hard because we come back. I don’t even really miss traveling—I can always do that again, and plan to. What I can’t come back to is this Madrid. When I come back, it will be the same incredible city, yes. But the things that make this particular experience what it is—the culture created by only being able to speak my native language with my friends, being young in the city that actually never sleeps, being more independent than I’ve ever been—those are unique aspects of only this. It’s sad, but it’s also happy, because tomorrow I get to see my family and Ginger and my country. Plus, I get a four hour layover in Miami. I think a place where they speak half-Spanish and half-English is the perfect place to start off my culture-shock training. Okay, more from me later, but like I said, I’m off to enjoy this 95 degree day.

More Family Visit

I clearly remember the moment I decided I wanted to travel to the South of France. I can’t tell you how old I was, but I was definitely young, and my friends Taylor and Lauren had just returned from a trip there. When I asked how it was, Taylor proudly told me, “In France, we have ice cream after dinner…every night.” I probably spent hours contemplating how such a thing is even possible. Now, however many years later, I can sadly (and questionably) say that I don’t even like ice cream, but everything else I’ve learned over the years about the scenery, food, pace of life, art, sea, and perfect pastries left me very excited to travel to Nice. 

I was surprised upon our arrival in Nice to learn that, contrary to popular belief, we would not actually be visiting Nice. We also never made it out of the car in Cannes and Monaco, which baffled a few friends, and frankly myself, because those are the three best-known towns (slash countries) in the area. My parents felt that the smaller towns were much more worth our time, and I ended up being very happy with their decision. From home base of the precious St Paul de Vence, we traveled to Grasse, Mougins, Biot, Antibes, Eze, and more. 

Another place we visited, willingly or not, was Italy. The turn off the A8 to “Town of Eze” turned out to be probably the smallest sign in the world, but the sign reading “Italia” did not fail to catch our eyes. I’d like to think my mom and I navigated pretty well without a map, otherwise. Plus, Will got to visit four European countries in one trip.

Highlights? Our small hotel in St Paul de Vence was sweet and picturesque. We had a perfect view of the old medieval village, and it was definitely the first pool I had access to during my time abroad. Eze and Mougins were my favorite towns to walk around. Art is a staple of the area, so we visited many a gallery, which my family loves. We also visited a Picasso Museum and The Foundation Maeght and were lucky to see some great masterpieces. The rest of the masterpieces were located at Colombe D’or, a restaurant Piscasso and his kin used to frequent, where a painting bought them a meal or two. We heard the art greatly outshone the food, so we dined elsewhere. We saw the glassblowers at Biot, and I learned just how fragile and special the cool glass dishware I casually used at a middle school birthday party was…whoops. My mom and I toured the Molinard perfumery while my dad blissfully enjoyed the Historic Grand Prix of Monaco… so many pictures. It was wonderful to be with the whole family on Mother’s Day. 

After five days in France, Will, Mom and I headed to Barcelona as Dad headed back home. During our two days we enjoyed Park Güell, visited the inside of Sagrada Familia (incredible even incomplete), saw the official Picasso Museum, walked La Rambla and the beach, and had dinner at 4 Gats, another favorite of Picasso, for which he designed the menu. The Picasso Museum affirmed my love for single-artist museums, because you get a chance to see pieces and phases you otherwise never would. For example, he did dozens of his own version of Velázquez Las Meninas, the Prado staple, which I loved. I got a chance to see another such museum yesterday back in Madrid, Museo Sorolla, dedicated to my favorite Spanish artist. 

Mom and Will continued on the Costa Brava for a few days, then met me in Madrid two nights ago for one last trip to Mercado de San Miguel. It was sad to see them go, but made much easier by the fact that I see them in less than two weeks. 

I will post a few of the photos that I have, but most are on my dad’s camera, so stay tuned. Speaking of tuned, I’m off to Coldplay tonight. Been looking forward to this for way too long. Expect a (hopefully raving) review later!

Will and I at Mercado de San Miguel in Madrid

Host family and I from family-family dinner

Toledo, Spain (from a daytrip I forgot to mention)

Dinner in St Paul de Vence

Glassblowers in Biot

Me with Chagall, my fav artist

I Love Madrid

One might ask why I’d write a post with such a title from my peaceful hotel in the South of France, a place I’ve wanted to visit my whole life. The real answer is that it’s been a while since I’ve blogged, but another is that it is simply true, and that I’ve had a great past couple of weeks in Madrid. Especially after a few days there with my parents, I’ve come to understand just how perfect (and perfect for me) it is. 

My tranquil week in Madrid before the fam’s arrival brought me to a plethora of new cafes, bars, shops, walks, and markets. With so many friends traveling, and thus no Facebook post providing me with directions for how I would spend my days and evenings, I think I was able to get out more than I ever had, if possible.

I’m hoping Mom, Dad, and Will loved the city, because I loved having them. Upon their arrival I immediately dragged their poor, jet lagged selves off to one of my favorite restaurants in the city, where, for the first time, I didn’t have to automatically order the cheapest bottle of wine on the menu. 

I won’t pretend their trip wasn’t revolved around food— don’t worry, I expertly scheduled so we could hit up as many favorite and potentially favorite spots as possible. Casa Lucio was a highlight, being the brother (sister?) to the great steakhouse my friend Mary and I stumbled upon back in February. We loved Mercado de San Miguel, an always-favorite, with it’s rows upon rows and counters upon counters of every Spanish and Spanish-inspired dish imaginable. The first good paella I had in Spain came at Casa de Valencia, where the wood panels and lacy table cloths, which would normally creep me out in the US, only represented something I’ve come to love about the city, as quoted from Condé Nast Traveler: “it [Madrid] is so conservative that it’s radical.” Their last day in town provided me with possibly two of the best meals of my life, both only Spanish influenced, but without a doubt two of the best spots in Madrid. The six small courses at Restaurante Lúa, where we went for lunch, were some of the most inventive and technically perfect I’ve ever had.

My host family and my real family were able to meet up one night for dinner at my Spanish apartment. The brothers proved to be great matches, and Antonio, who is practically fluent in English, enthusiastically told Will everything he wanted to know about the History of Spain. He was even happy to talk about Franco, who I had to remind Will not to mention to the likes of hotel concierges and cab drivers. Katy, Javier, and Antonio all loved the Be Simple Apparel tees Will brought. As per usual, I was left hoping I wasn’t too out-shined by my brother. 

We spent hours in the Prado (Mom and Will taking 5 minutes at each painting; me probably looking at each for about 10 seconds then proceeding to stare off at a wall). Will loved the parks, and the warm-but-still-cool weather allowed us to enjoy many an outdoor walk. The Palacio Real (Royal Palace) was more impressive and decadent than I ever imagined, and the Armoury was especially cool— I’d definitely never seen anything like it. We went to a great Flamenco show at Corral de la Moreria, definitely the place to go if you ever get a chance. We were lucky to snag the table closest to the stage, and as a result we got some exercise ducking behind each other’s backs, avoiding the dancers’ sweat as it sprinkled— and sometimes rained down on— us. One final highlight was a visit to a special (and free!) Chagall exhibit. I can now say that he is far and away my favorite artist.

When chef at dinner the last night told us his restaurant hadn’t been empty in 24 years and that the Atlético Madrid soccer final was to blame, I thought, yeah right, try the 24% unemployment rate. But as we left and I parted with my family— they being headed to their hotel around the corner to rest before our 6 AM wake up call, myself off to meet my friends for a quick night out— I saw a sight almost unseen. Thousands celebrated the fútbol victory, whether in cars or on foot, and I was blinded by jerseys, flags, and scarves with the Atlético emblem. Horns were honked, songs were sung, and we Americans, who already stick out like sore thumbs for going out as “early” as 12 AM, were even more out of place as the only people lacking what had suddenly become the uniform of Madrid.

The only time I’d seen anything like this was two weeks before, when the same spectacle resulted from the Real Madrid championship win. As I walked to meet my friends, after a great day with my family, I couldn’t help but smile. Madrid is a social, cultural city of food, style, art, nature, and, as was demonstrated, an incredible spirit. I shouldn’t forget to mention that, after a day full of my favorite things, I was only headed into a night with my favorite people. After all, as Hemingway wrote, “the problem with Madrid is there is no sleep at all.” I’m in France now, but I could just as happily be in Madrid. Studying abroad really is a constant state of Bliss, but I’m not sure it would be so without this incredible city and the people in it.

Prague Visit

A weekend in Prague proved to be just what the doctor ordered after the ever so “stressful” finals week at UC3M. I’ll start where it began, which was a 7 AM wake up time, following a late night celebrating the end of finals and a last night all together before some kids headed home and others left to travel. Nothing remedied the lack of sleep better than unheard-of hospitality on Swiss Airlines, including breakfast, coffee, OJ, water, and all-you-can-eat Swiss chocolates. My flights there and back had me connecting in Zurich and Frankfurt, which was bittersweet, because those airports will probably be the most I see of two countries I was hoping to visit while abroad.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t so lucky with transportation throughout. I took the hoards of people headed for the metro without ticket action to mean I didn’t need one, and found myself stopped by a cop on the train and fined 800 crowns. Considering that I had taken out 1000 (almost 50 euros, even more USD) for the weekend, I wasn’t the happiest. Hearing later that the same had happened to basically every traveling student lifted my spirits.

With the exception of this ticket officer, the people of Prague proved to be incredibly nice and hospitable. Our hostel was easily the nicest I’ve stayed in—an almost perfect experience save when they accidentally rented out my hair straightener to another guest, never to be seen again. 

Though I usually travel in pretty big groups, this time I was only with Taylor. Not only was it refreshing and easy to have only two opinions to consider when making decisions, but Taylor and I proved to be very compatible travel buddies. We were both down to wander, explore, and try new foods. We also, regrettably, hit a wall at about the same time on our Saturday walking tour and agreed to quit and continue the exploration. I can safely attribute this antsyness to the 80+ degree weather, and, I mean, 4 hours is a long time to listen to one person talk. We did learn a lot on our tour regardless, and found the Communist history to be the most fascinating. Remnants of WWII and Communism were found around every corner, and the most interesting was probably a giant metronome on a hill, representing the perpetual, predictable pace of a Communist society. 

Famous clock tower in Old Town Prague

Tyn Church in Old Town—fun fact; towers are completely disproportional

View from the Charles Bridge

Getting distracted on our tour

Another reason Taylor and I were good travel buddies: our appreciation for beer. One afternoon brought us to the Prague Beer Museum, which I expected to be pretty touristy, but it surprised me. We made our selections to sample after reading the vivid, full-paragraph descriptions of about 40 Czech brews. Having been brewed by “living legends” and containing ingredients like banana, “water from a deep, clear lake,” and the never-fail orange and cardamon, our samples did not disappoint. We then decided we should probably open a brewery-slash-publishing house one day, convinced there would be a market for it. One fun beer fact we learned—who knew Budweiser (Budvar) was Czech? 

The food was just as fun to try. We sampled goulash and sausages, but the best meal came in the form of half a duck, fried cheese with fries, boar, spinach, cabbage, and 3 or 4 different kinds of dumplings. Our eyes were definitely bigger than our stomachs with that one. The long table of people nearby singing traditional Czech songs (and a surprising rendition of Lean on Me) made for the perfect atmosphere.

I had the chance to meet up with Filip, a friend who spent his junior year of high school as a foreign exchange student at Breck. It was great to see him, and to hear that I wasn’t the only from our class to pay a visit while abroad. He showed us some fun local spots, including my first castle, and was a great sport about taking too many pictures of us in front of the Lennon Wall.

with Filip

Lennon Wall

Our biggest disappointment came when we failed to find paint and brushes to make our own addition to the wall, which Czech students started in the late ’80s as their own rebellion against Communism. Their movement was called “Lennonism,” and today people from all over the world come to add their own favorite Beatles quotes and messages about love and peace.

At least we could pretend

The end of the trip brought a series of good luck, including finding Taylor’s lost shoes and a smoothie, which I’d been craving, that cost exactly what I had left in crowns. It also turned out that it was my fate to get fined on public transportation, as I dropped my ticket getting onto the bus and had to choose between retrieving it and avoiding being crushed by a bus. A quick pen edit to the date on my receipt from the first fine, which allows you a free hour of travel, won me a pass with yet another ticket officer, who expressed his sympathy for having been fined. Call me dishonest or call me desperate; there was no way I was being fined again for another stupid reason. 

I could have stayed in Prague for a lot longer than just the weekend, especially since I knew I was headed back to a cold and rainy Madrid. Though Madrid was indeed cold and rainy upon my return, I still took advantage of the coming school-less week and did some exploring today with my friend Matt. I look forward to the free time this week, which will end sweetly with my family’s arrival on Sunday.

It’s starting to hit me pretty hard that I have just over a month left in Madrid. I’ve largely spent the past week sitting at my desk (something that, you should know, NEVER happens), studying for finals, and trying to ignore Facebook messages about all the fun stuff my friends are doing. This has inspired somewhat of a bucket list, much of which I plan to check off when Mary, Bruce, and Will visit—so get ready guys.

Okay so I shouldn’t complain too much—I did get a chance to have some awesome dinners when my friends Hayley and Molly visited from Paris. The first took us down Cava Baja, a street famous for its tapas. It was absolutely packed on a Sunday night, like so packed that we had to balance our plates on the railing of a staircase. Moral of the story is the US needs to get it together. Hit another hole-in-one last night when I went to Tigre, our drinks and tapas staple, where usually a croqueta or two will suffice. Imagine the scream that escaped my mouth when the waiter brought over grilled cheese. Yes, scream, and yes, grilled cheese…exactly how my mom makes it. I had to beg the waiter to bring the plate back after he teased me and walked away. I’ve felt mixed emotions about the surprise tapas at this place over the course of our many visits, but this one definitely knocked it out of the park. 

Another highlight recently was dinner at Javier Bardem’s restaurant, where Penelope Cruz did NOT make an appearance, but I think our waiter was his brother. They had bearnaise sauce and it was heaven. I don’t know if that’s how you spell bearnaise. I should emphasize that I’m not a picky eater and really am all about Spanish food, but sometimes a taste of the familiar is such a nice change.

The riot we experienced at a club opening was cool too, I guess… Just picture thousands of people harmlessly trying to get their groove on and an out-of-the-blue arrival of about 100 cops. The cops were unnecessary, and the televised “riots,” if anything, were the result of confusion as to why hundreds of officers had to show up. Speaking of riots, Madrid just lost to Munich. I live a 5 minute walk from the stadium and I won’t say I don’t hear sirens. This country is insane. 

So…back to finals. All I can say is I’m so glad I only have one more class left after tomorrow so I can explore more of Madrid and Europe as a whole. In that vein, I’m off to Prague Friday with my friend Taylor for the next adventure. Though I’ve wanted to visit Prague since forever, I’m especially excited about reuniting with an old Czech high school friend I haven’t seen in four years. 

London

I’ve spend a good portion of the last week explaining to friends why London has been one of my favorite trips so far, if not the favorite. “London!?” “Oh you liked it? I didn’t.” “I didn’t think there was anything that exciting in London.” I know, I know… other cities have churches too, and museums, and landmarks, and better food, and better weather, and parks, and cool languages. But London was the first place where I was able to really dig into the city and do more that just what the guidebooks say. Since everyone spoke English, and I knew exactly what to expect from the city, my friends and I were able to treat it more like a weekend in Boston or New York, and for the first time I found a place in Europe where I could actually see myself living one day.

It probably helped that, rather than staying in a hostel with 5 strangers in the room, Colleen, Hayley, Anastasia, Hailey, Cate and I were invited to stay with Caroline at her flat in London’s Knightsbridge area. With beds to ourselves, big showers, and easy access to Harrods and other fabulous shopping, Hyde Park, and London’s West End, we definitely had a good first impression. 

Our first stop was The Apollo Victoria Theatre, where we bought tickets to see Wicked for that night. Half of us had seen it, but, seriously, nothing brought me more joy than watching the reactions of my friends who were first-time viewers. Though it was perfect on Broadway, I have to say that the British accents did add something special. 

Roommates at Wicked!

Other highlights of the first day were a trip to Platform 9 3/4 and… well… Chipotle. Though anybody back home is probably rolling their eyes at this, think how you’d feel going a full THREE months without the perfect burrito. 4 and a half for those not lucky enough to go to London, which Europe’s only Chipotle calls home. Actually, this is soon to be two Chipotles—you should have seen the looks of horror on our faces when the first one we went to was still under renovation. It was probably something like the signature expression of my favorite Harry Potter character (or, well, my favorite voice to do): 

…Moaning Myrtle

Contrary to popular belief, not actually located between Platforms 9 and 10, which I somehow made it on to without a ticket.

White rice-black beans-barbacoa-corn salsa-hot salsa-sour cream-lettuce-tomato burrito bowl! Just as good as ever.

I would have more to say for the first day, but a good portion of it was taken up by a job interview. Interviews only seem to come my way when I’m traveling, but this one was well worth it, as I can officially say I’m employed for the summer. Though I thought it would be perfectly appropriate to make the call from a red telephone booth, I was disappointed to find that they are not as glamourous as you’d think. Each I entered was plastered with pictures of porn stars and call girls, and I decided there were better things to be looking at while enthusiastically discussing my past experience and personal strengths. 

We did the rounds of Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, The Globe Theatre, St. Paul’s, other notables among the Thames, and Hyde Park . I have to say, though, The London Eye was the highlight. It was a beautiful, sunny day, and so the city shone from above. The free London Eye 4D Experience wasn’t terrible either…aka my friends and I were screaming in delight as we were blasted with air and imitation clouds formed around our feet, 3D images flashing before our eyes. Now I know what it feels like to be a British bird, soaring above London’s best sights. In all seriousness, this was one of the best parts of the trip. Not only was it a beautiful day, but I must say it’s more exciting to see sights you’ve heard about your whole life than, for example, what I saw in Granada, which I’d only just learned about.

Me, Hayley, Colleen, Anastasia, Cate, and Hailey in front of Westminster Abbey

Top of the Eye!

Picturesque Hyde Park

Next we were off to Harrods… let’s just say, there was no turning back. Okay so yeah, it’s a department store. But it could also easily be my home. We had a 3:30 tea time, and the two subsequent hours spent in the Terrace Bar were absolutely perfect. Tea sandwiches, scones, pastries, tea, and overpriced champagne? It was the best meal. I can now officially say that clotted cream is one of my five favorite foods, along with butter, parmesan cheese, sour cream, and marscapone. 

The clothes, purses, perfumes, and toys were nothing compared to the Food Halls. The first floor of the massive building is almost entirely comprised of a large take-out-style market, the “pantry” for dry goods, cookies, etc, a tea hall, fresh produce rooms, and plenty of sit-down areas where you can get a nice 50 dollar plate of fish and chips. As far as fish and chips go, our 6 pound “take-out,” which we ate just outside the door in the bitter wind, had to do. After having my first good salad in months, I thought things couldn’t get any better… until we found MORE food on the top floor, sat down, and naively asked, “May we please have a crumpet?” One crumpet turned out to be a laughable request, but when the silver pot of English muffins came out five minutes later, I was perfectly content. I could eat tea and crumpets for the rest of my life, I think.

Harrods “pantry”

Crumpets! My friend’s reaction when I showed him: “Why do girls always take pictures of their food?”

One final highlight came on our 1 AM double-decker bus ride. We obviously sat in the very front of the top of the bus, and quickly became both very entertaining and very confused by the grudge sounds coming from somewhere on the bus. Everyone else sat as if nothing had happened, and our investigations brought us no answers. As we got off the bus, the driver winked at us as if to say, “Yes, it was me making grudge noises through the loud speaker the whole time!” His sense of humor is an accurate representation of how friendly everybody was in London, just one reason I hope to return.

So while we may have spent a questionable amount of time at Harrods, I can’t wait to go back and see what we missed, and have more success stalking Prince Harry and Emma Watson. 

Had to do it

We’ve hit an exciting milestone back here in Madrid—4 of my classes are over for the semester. This means finals next week, then an entire month of traveling, sunshine, friends, tapas, and one class (albeit the most difficult class I’ve ever taken in my life). Though my time will mostly be spent studying, I’m looking forward to reacquainting myself with Madrid for the next week.

Semana Santa

So I realize I’ve been on quite the hiatus here, and I can cite my twelve-day Spring Break trip to Italy for that one. I traveled with five friends, and was lucky to meet up with others, as well as family, along the way.

We started out on the most hectic note possible. Like everybody else in Madrid, we were trying to get out of town before the Huelga—the National Strike—on Thursday. After a lot of confusion and miscommunication, we were lucky enough to get a Wednesday night train to Barcelona to start out our trip. Come the next morning, I witnessed one of the craziest things I’ve ever seen firsthand. In response to labor reforms, the Spanish went on a 24-hour strike from work. Those brave souls who had the guts to show up for the 9 to 5? Well, they experienced something like this:

Looks pretty tame, I know, but things got crazier. After a day on the beach, the only thing that was “open,” my friends and I had no choice but to enter an open business to grab dinner. Bad timing kicked it. As we ordered our fast-food sandwiches, a mob of people ran down the street. The cashier closed the gates to the restaurant quickly, and we were shuffled upstairs, where we remained for two hours. Outside, we watched dumpsters burn, a la protesters, and rubber bullets fly, a la police. Sorry, Mom and Dad, probably not what you wanted to hear…but it’s part of the story. We later learned that the actual protesters were pretty tame, as we had seen in the morning—it was the teenagers and twenty-somethings who got inappropriately rowdy. The adults only wanted a peaceful protest, with graffiti as their worst weapon. Still, a little ridiculous in my opinion. It was an interesting first impression of Barca, to say the least. The best part? Midnight on the dot: street cleaners came out, bars and restaurants opened back up…these people were serious about their 24-hour time limit.

The rest of Barcelona was great—I’m excited to return with my family. Sagrada Familia was one of the coolest churches I’ve ever seen, and Gaudís Park Güell was equally as cool. We also saw a fantastic DJ at Opium, a dance club right on the beach. 

Sagrada Familia: under construction for 130+ years 

Next, it was off to Rome. Rome has probably always been in my top three places to visit, and, no, I wouldn’t be surprised if this was inspired by the Lizzie McGuire Movie. After a very satisfying first Italian meal the night we got in, it was up at 6:30 AM to meet my mom’s sister, Jill, along with Dan, Annie, and Matthew at the Vatican. It was obviously great to see family, and to truly relax for a few days. The Vatican was exciting to see, and made even better by our bubbly Italian tour guide. 

Palm Sunday Mass at the Vatican

We spent the rest of the day walking around Rome. This included a trip to the Burberry Store by the Spanish Steps, where Annie and I were offered glasses of champagne. I only mention this to express the vast improvement over our last trip to Burberry, in Chicago, ages 9 and 11, where we were found sporting the classic scarves as bonnets, put in the corner, and supervised by an employee while our moms looked around. 

The next day we saw Old Rome—the Pantheon, Coliseum, and Roman Forum. The area around the Pantheon was the Rome I had been waiting for—narrow, cobblestone streets, adorable restaurants, street musicians, and lots of life. We then headed over to the Trevi Fountain, which, as touristy as it is, was one of my favorite parts of the city. Everybody was so happy to be there, and the mood was probably only helped by the elaborate proposal that took place while we were there. We capped the night with snacks at one of the ritziest hotels in Rome, which Madonna is reported to frequent, which we were told to check out for the atmosphere. I think we all agree that the overpriced food was the worst we had in Italy—proof of Italy’s unbelievable knack for cuisine.

Annie and I

At the Coliseum

Yep, I’m the creep who took a picture of this.

Next, my friends and I headed off to Naples. After warnings from Mom and Dad to stay away, we compromised by taking overpriced cabs the mere four blocks from the train station to Pizzeria Da Michele. Being a Punch fanatic, I had to find the best real Neapolitan pizza, and rumor had it this was the place. Da Michele was founded in the 19th century, and only serves two kinds of pizza—Margherita and Marinara. Let’s just say we inhaled them, and left Naples completely satisfied and fully content in never returning for any reason other than this pizza. 

As if one oversized meal wasn’t enough for one day, we were later pleasantly surprised to find that our hostel in Sorrento offered a four-course home-cooked Italian meal at their cooking school. The best hostel in the world, no contest. The next day, they took us out on their private boat for a day-long tour of Capri and the Blue Grotto, paired with the best Caprese sandwich I’ve ever had. I loved being back on the water, and though I’m sure my seasick friends would beg to differ, found the ride to be even better than the island itself.

Our digs for the day

Our lame, tired selves could barely get through dinner for the 5th night in the row, but early to bed was a good call, as we woke up early the next day to visit the Amalfi Coast. The seven euro bus ride along the world-famous coast road was enough, but the towns themselves proved to be out-of-this-world, and definitely worth revisiting for a week or two…or forever. Positano brought us down 900 steps to the beach, and I wont pretend my weak legs weren’t violently shaking by the end. Ravello, with it’s famous gardens and villas, was absolutely breathtaking, and Amalfi brought me some great homemade pasta, unreal lemons and limoncello, a local specialty, and a beautiful sunset.

In Positano

Positano’s famous cliffs

In the gardens at Villa Cimbrone, Ravello

Amalfi lemons

Amalfi at sunset

We took the train to Florence the next morning, where we were greeted by Anastasia’s friend Hailey, nice enough to host us, and Gusto Pizza, the best in Florence and a close second to Da Michele. I had pesto—one of our favorites to make when I was younger.

The food and gelato was great in Florence—I think I was lucky enough to go to four of the best restaurants. The best part, though, wasn’t this, nor the Duomo or the Ponte Vecchio, which I had heard all about. It was the David, brought to life by our tour guide Bernie. Thanks again to Aunt Jill for the recommendation. Bernie is one of the most passionate and captivating people I’ve ever met—easily better than any professor in my three years in college. He spoke about the David for over an hour, and none of us could take our eyes off of him. The information he gave was fascinating—that Michaelangelo sculpted him from a rough piece of marble rejected by four artists before him, that he was attacked by a mad sculptor a few years back, that NASA considers him one of ten things that best represents life on Earth. The best story, though, came when he told us of his tour with the Jersey Shore cast members. He quoted Snooki in asking if David was happy with his portrait when it was completed. Yes, a first testament bible character was thrilled to see his “portrait,” completed only 1500-some years after Christ. She also asked, “did kids actually have little wings back then?” Needless to say, Bernie got a big tip, and we enthusiastically shared his business card with just about everybody we met. 

On the Ponte Vecchio

We rose early the next day for a wine tour of Chianti, which is in theory awesome. We were a bit taken aback, however, by the three-hour hike in the rain, and the guide who, at one point said, “to me, wine is wine.” This was almost redeemed by a visit to the “secret bakery,” which opens at 2 AM each day and provides students with to-die-for chocolate croissants. Obviously we couldn’t make it past 1 AM…I’m beginning to question whether we’re Madrileños anymore. 

In Chianti!

Chariot “blowing up”—Easter Ceremony in Florence; brings good luck for the coming year

Leaning Tower of Pisa

Duomo in Milan—one of the prettiest churches I’ve ever seen

A delayed flight brought us back to Madrid at 1:30 AM Tuesday morning, so I’m still letting it sink in that I leave tomorrow night for a weekend in London. Just as Lizzie McGuire told me to go to Rome, London has called since the Parent Trap—I know I won’t be let down.

Real Fun

Checked another one off the old Madrid Bucket List and finally went to a Real Madrid game tonight. Knowing it would be one of my last opportunities to see a home game, I took the eight-minute trek to Estadio Santiago Bernabeú to meet up with some friends and see if we could find reasonable nosebleed tickets. 

We had to split up, but considering that one friend and I were able to snag some seats 20 rows behind the goal for only 30 euros? I’d say we did better than expected. I’ll go ahead and guess we paid about 10% of their worth. 

The boys, lead by the dreamy Cristiano Ronaldo, did us proud with an easy 5-1 final score against Real Sociedad. But you all know that is about as much factual information as I can give you about what actually happened during the game, so how about some observations that are more like me? Let’s just say, I admire how the Spanish do sports. There was no jumbotron displaying close-ups of the players chiseled bodies which, well, reminded me that going for a run one of these days might not be the worst decision I could make. Instead, 160,000 eyes unwilling to look away from the field, actually watching the game they paid so much to see in person. There were no cell phones out, no men with four beers in their laps, no screaming children, and no bathroom breaks. No ads or promotions either, just the names of the three or four primary sponsors displayed here and there. Everyone was there to cheer on their team, and it was really, really neat to see. The only thing I question…must we bring our ham baguettes with us to the soccer game? Really? When I watched the man next to me peel back that tin foil I expected a delicious and perfectly appropriate hot dog, which I was fully prepared to go and purchase for myself, but I was presented instead with a homemade jamón delight. It’s safe to say at least 20,000 other people had this same genius idea…and I was left yearning for a good old cheeseburger.

Amsterdam!

I spent the weekend in Amsterdam, and I’d say the land of tall, blonde people suited me. Being closer to my Swedish homeland than ever before, I did a lot more double takes than I ever had in Madrid, thinking I’d seen my own father at one point. The culture was laid back, and this coupled with the architecture reminded me somewhat of the small towns we frequent on the way to the cabin. The canals were beautiful, the food was hearty, and I even found the stubborn cloud cover to be a nice change of pace.

Save my 6:45 am flight, my friends and I started out the weekend with one of the things I most looked forward to in the trip— a tour of Anne Frank’s’ Secret Annex. I can say Anne Frank is one of the reasons I’m an English Major— having read her story at a young age, I went on to read just about every age-appropriate book about the Holocaust and other aspects of World War II, and these stories got me back on track after a point in my life when the word “book” made me want to run and scream. Actually having the chance to see where she lived was incredible. The coolest moment came when a mother explained Anne’s yellow “Jude” star to her young daughter, to which she replied, “That’s ridiculous! And unfair. Why can’t they just change their religion?” It was touching to see a little girl so moved upon learning about the events, and to witness her immediate understanding and curiosity.

A few friends and I spent a lot of time biking around Amsterdam, which I found to be the ideal way to see the city, though I will warn Dutch bikers are much like Boston drivers. One of the best bike rides took us to the Brouwerij’t IJ Brewery, a small, local place located right beside a windmill. I think the tour was more ideal for me than my other option, “The Heineken Experience.” It was here that I started my new coaster collection, which I can only hope is one day impressive enough to rival my dad’s 200-some can koozys. How do you spell koozy? Coozie?

Amsterdam itself felt like a big contradiction at times…why was our hostel, which turned out to be Christian, located in the Red Light District and on the same block as a plethora of coffee shops? Is it okay to put your four-year-old daughter on the front of your bicycle with no helmet and include the Red Light District in your route? I definitely wasn’t exposed to strippers as a small, goofy blonde child in round red glasses and overalls (which this particular child also was), but hey, everywhere’s different.

It was nice to be in a place where hearty breakfast is embraced. Battle of the waffles went to Amsterdam over Brussels, where a bunch of friends and I spent Saturday night at a huge electronic music concert which featured some of the most famous DJs in the world, and at which I found myself dancing for a record-breaking eight hours straight. I will say I’m more excited for Coldplay in May—music with voices and real instruments is more my jam—but I’m glad I went regardless. Plus, I got to see a whole new country? And by that I mean I found the dreariness of Brussels to be a fair enough reason as to why the Euro is still in the tank and the people over there haven’t found some brilliant solution. Perhaps in the few hours I had to walk around I didn’t see enough, so I won’t be quick to judge yet.

Final consensus? Amsterdam was charming, unusual, and a lot of fun, especially since so many BC friends were around this weekend. I especially liked being so far north in Europe, considering that I’ve mostly been in the same region thus far. I already miss the delicious waffles, French fries, and Indonesian fare, but luckily have a more legitimate reason to return, since I missed the Van Gogh Museum due to limited Sunday hours.

A Few Random Thoughts on this Fine Tuesday Evening

Highs and lows this week so far.

Flight to Amsterdam was cancelled this Friday…the Spanish love to strike. Spent five hours booking a new one, which wasn’t nearly as cheap. That combined with other travel-related fiascos? Basketcase Kath, unfortunately. I will say that becoming stressed easily is my most regrettable trait. Not that I’m complaining about how lucky I am to get to travel over here, don’t get me wrong.

What made it better? Found out today that I got my dream housing at BC for Senior Year! After three years of meh, I can say I’m pretty excited.

It was 75 degrees in Madrid today, which would be so much more exciting if Boston and Minnesota would stop mirroring all the weather patterns over here! What happened to the zero degree Marches I used to know? Still, as I’ve said before, it continues to hold that it does not, in fact, rain in Spain.

This information is probably all very unnecessary. But I felt like writing a little. That’s what these things are for, I guess!