Sluggish...

I have been a slug when it has come to writing recently. I have been consumed with walking, seeing, eating, and all that is involved with travels. It has really slipped my mind what it means to go out and experience the town. Massive amounts of time is spent wandering while the other part of the day is full of meeting people and relaxing from the strolls. This is a poor excuse I know. I will try to make it up to you loyal readers with a more regular account of that which is Europe.

I have promised Barcelona round dos but due to the fact that each day is filled with more and more stuff I am going to go ahead and skip all the way to Montpellier.

We left Barcelona at 9 in the morning after a long night hanging out with an ex boxer and an auzzie friend. It was rough like the way you feel when you are the 3^rd wheel and don’t get the inside jokes. You just kind of phase out stare blankly. The 5 hour train ride was full of those. While on the train with Laura she would once in a while grab a piece of paper and jot things down on it. I thought it could have possibly been her initial plot to pull a practical joke on me, but it was just her thoughts about traveling. She shared some with me that I had once felt. She said on the train she had finally been bitten by the travel bug. That nothing in the world is like it and that she HAS to find a way to keep going after college. I couldn’t help but tell her it is dangerous to get the bite. Like Pringles once you pop you just can’t stop. She started quoting proverbs to me and getting mind blowing thoughts that might change her life. I will have to take full credit for this new outlook.

Montpellier is a beautiful French city that definitely is French. Baguettes and people making fart noises with their mouths(the silent but violent ones) all over the place. I had been to Paris before, but I have not experienced true French people interacting with each other. It might be just me, but the French language seems so stuck up that it is like wiping your butt with gold toilet paper. I took French for a couple year in high school and I lost it all. I wasn’t completely thrilled with it when I was in school and I still am not. If I looked past the words, the people seemed very nice and the scene is wonderful. A woman at the train station did some clever maneuvering to be able to get me on the train. A guy in a pastry shop gave us an extra treat just because. I don’t know if I could live her, but I would suggest it as a fun place to walk around in.

At the moment I am riding a train from France to Torino(Turin). I love trains like a fat kid loves cake(pop culture moment). So simple and so grounded. I don’t feel like my day is dedicated to getting ready to fly, waiting to fly, flying, getting home from flying, then jet lag. A couple days in Torino will give me a little Italian refresher so that I can try my hand at leading my tourist group around.

Moral of the story, relaxing can be just as tiring as activities…

Barcelona Part 1

It would be utterly impossible for me to write a blog about every single detail that was observed over the past few days in Barcelona without writing a 6 to 8 page essay. I am going to mark some ups and downs, the people I met and the laughable times that the audience could share in with.

First day in Barcelona I checked into my hostel and was greeted by a small German girl and a chap from India. I had forgotten how easy it is to start up conversation with a random stranger. After we asked each other the two main questions that all travelers ask each other we were officially friends. The first question is “where are you from?” then “What are you doing in _____(Fill in the blank to the city you are in)?”. Names are really a minor detail that doesn’t usually get discussed or even mentioned sometimes. Everyone knows that 80% of people forget the name as soon as it is said out loud, plus the gaggle of people that you will talk to that day will tell their names and no one can remember 15 names. Arizona peaked her interest due to the fact she knew someone in the hostel that too was from the desert state. With the excitement of a child in a candy store inside an ice cream store surrounded by Disneyland I furiously went searching for my native blood. Words were not even exchange when we embraced in a understanding that kin had united. Then I found out she went to ASU and then the glares and “accidental” tripping took place. Alyssa was really sweat and gave me a dose of Arizona that will hold me over well for quite a while.

Ramblas Boulevard is the main street on in Barcelona that is just flooded with tourists. You can see everyone from the backpacking traveler to the 18 year old student exchange gossip girls to the American family fumbling with the maps and the sun screen thick on the nose with a fisherman’s hat. When massive people are gathered, sprinkles of middle eastern men will be in the crowd selling what goods they can. Tis the season to sell whistles. Every 20 feet there is a man whistling at you with sounds that range from Donald duck to Donald duck blowing his nose. Every kid wants one, every parents is dreading it. The whistles were probably the worst part of the entire Barcelona experience. Considering that is minor in detail, I think I did alright.

My good friend Laura was meeting in Barcelona from Montpellier. She booked the hostel we stayed at just a bit away from Ramblas. After checking into my new hostel with her we noticed about 200 high school kids running around the hostel. There was some kind of program that allowed them to travel in large packs, drink, go out and be supervised by only 2 adults. This hostel was fantastic because after we got our bags all unpacked and ready, we had made friends with all the people in our room. Lisa, Natalie, Brendan, 2 Englishmen, the Brits(9 of them), and a few Canadians. During the day Laura and I would go out in the city and observe everything we could (Gaudi was the main influence that caught our attention). During the day we always found a park that we  could lay in and listen to music. At night though, things went to chaos. Now my drinking habits are to drink a beer or two maybe every couple months. Brian the lush is not a name I would rightfully receive. But here in Barcelona new people would come in and it was our job to taste the city. My taste was cavas. For those who are not familiar with the libation, it is a wonderful sparkling white wine. If you think it is champagne you are wrong. True champagne only comes from the region of France known as Champagne. But the similarities were uncanny. The bubbly and sangria were poured to keep our glasses full. When I would get back into the hostel it would be between 3 and 5 in the morning. As I am on my way to Montpellier I am happily exhausted.

More is to come about my trip from Barcelona.

Moral of the story, if a man thinks he looks good in long hair, make him put on a dress too.

Asian Sensation

If you recall my complaining on an earlier post about directions that Hostel owners give in Norway, I had another similar experience. I took the late flight from Alghero at 10:35 and arrived in Girona just an hour or so later. I didn’t really feel like taking a bus all the way to Barcelona while not sleeping and building up my crankiness. Instead I booked a hostel for cheap in Girona for the night. I got the email with directions to the hostel but did not look at it until I landed. Midnight had fallen upon me when I read the email that said, “it is a 10 minute walk from the bus station. Just follow the signs to the Catalunya plaza”. I got on the bus to the station and kept reading it as if a hiding meaning might pop out from betwixt the words.

After my half an hour drive I got off the bus and looked around for signs. I must have looked like a dog chasing his tail with how many circles I was making. Usually when I am in despair I would just go into the closest shop and tell them the name and start pointing in all directions as if to say which one is right. Most people can understand what I mean when I do this sporadic movement. But at 1 oclock at night on the eve of Easter, not a single person is stirring, only the mice. It was up to me to start walking in random directions to discover any kind of hint. I was extremely lucky to go down the street that would eventually lead me to the hostel.

After I signed into the hostel a little confusion occurred that caused a big fuss. I am not one that likes to make enemies, but when I am tired please don’t mess with me. I got my room and bed assignment for the dorm. I was sleeping in room 6 bed 4. Got it. I go into the pitch black room and close the door. Ahh pitch black, good thing I can’t see the beds or the other peoples luggage. I turn on my itouch to shine some light on the situation and of course what do I do but point it right into someones sleeping face. After much confusion I found my bed and almost threw all my stuff on it when in the silhouette I saw a figure of a person snoozing away in the comfort of my comforts. I didn’t want to play games and I was extremely cranky. So I did what any grown man or 4 year old would do, I went and told on him. I felt guilty for about 30 seconds when the manager busted in the room and woke everyone up wondering who is suppose to be in what bed. Lights went out and I snuck in and took my bed…

Moral of the story, if you are asian, learn 1 through ten so you wont be woken up because you choose the wrong bed.

Sad Days...

The sky was scorched with melancholy and tears fell from the sky on the day of my departure. A solemn aura surrounded the town as if it were have a moment of silence in respect to their long visitor. Over the four months I have resided in Bosa, I have been able to see many of the locals and even friended a fair share of them. The 23^rd was the final countdown for my initial goodbye. I will be back in late may to resume a bit of work on their farm, but it was still a bitter Italian meat ball I/we had to swallow.

For my last meal Silvia decided to play a joke on me. Early in my work with them she created a soup dish that was very tasty but I was skeptical before I took a bite. The substance staring back at me was a sewer green with some chunks of who knows what. I guess when I asked “what is this?” I didn’t hide the ewww look on my face. Since then I have been taunted severally for not liking such a tasty dish. Silvia’s sense of humor presented itself when I came for lunch and at my place at the table was the GREEN SOUP. I laughed out loud and scarfed that soup down with a furious passion. Each bite was worthy of a moan and groan. After lunch Nahima offered me a chance to beat her in a game of chess. I am not a pro, or even good, but I am afraid that I might have been a little too hard on the 8 year old. We played 2 games and each one we played I lost only 2 pieces while she lost all but her king. What can I say, I get competitive. My last task at hand was to write in a Helpers Journal that they bought that day. After I wrote a heartfelt paragraph about how wonderful they were to me and how I am a part of the family now I was off to the bus.

Earlier that day my intentions to plan ahead bit me in the butt. I looked at a couple different time tables to take me to Alghero airport. The safest time to go at was 3:40. That will teach me to research before I make a move. The bus was to arrive at 4:40 and was still 20 minutes late. Let me remind you, it was raining out. And when it rains, it pours. And when it pours, the hurricane is on the way. Everything on my person was dripping wet. I did what I could to protect the just recently laundered clothes that were happy being dry. I am now sitting in the Alghero airport for 4 hours until my flight departs. There will be 1. Blogs written 2. Naps taken 3. Solitaire played. With all my experience in waiting in terminals, I still haven’t found my go to thing to keep me occupied. People watching only goes so far…

Moral of the story, weather can be interpreted however you want to appease your ego…

Clean Up, Get Out...

Friday is a day for packing and a day for solemn goodbyes. Instead of work I was detailed to stay home and clean the house from top to bottom. Michael is having a couple move into my room the day after I leave. He didn’t waste any time replacing me. It is up to me to clean my room. This is never a fun job. I also didn’t exactly help myself over the past month in keeping it in tip top shape so it would be an easier job later. I don’t think I ever emptied my trash, I swept the floors once I think, what is dusting? My laziness even went as far as my laundry. Yes I did my laundry, but when it was dry I would throw it to the other side of the bed instead of putting it away. I just figured I was going to wear it soon anyway, why put it away. That bit me in the butt when clothes were everywhere and I needed to pack it up. Most everything got pretty clean after trash was gone and everything was vacuumed. The last thing I was dreading to do was the bathroom. I am not going to give details of what it looks like or what is involved in cleaning it. Just be happy yours smells and looks better than mine.

Tonight is my last meal with the family until I get back in a month. Silvia is cooking something special for me. Not sure what it is, but I am pretty sure I will like it. After this I will be back on TTD(The Travelers Diet) eating bread and drinking water. Back to looking at train schedules and “stressing” over where I will sleep next. I love living here, but I think it is time to take a little break. The traveling bug is hitting just in time…

Moral of the story, if you don’t go to the bathroom, you don’t have to clean it…

Language Of The World...

In movies when you see an American talking to a foreigner, what do you picture? I see someone speaking loudly, very slow, and with over dramatic pronunciation. I am always super embarrassed when I watch it happen. The people talk to foreigners similar to how they talk to babies. When traveling around South East Asia Carlyn had a tendency to take part in this. She would try to ask something about hotels or food on a menu and get American. When they didn’t understand, her frustration peaked and I was assigned to deal with it. Luckily I am fluent in the universal language of pointing to objects and getting what needs done. I am getting to a point that matters to my current trip, read on.

At home I don’t think I am considered an extremely fast talker. Sure I listen to that horrible rap music, but my thoughts do not form in my head until I have already started my sentence. I actually consider myself pretty slow when it comes to conversing with other humanoids. I have been accused though of being soft spoken. My words are light on the tongue but heavy on the soul(that is deep). Next paragraph brings it all full circle.

For the last few months since I have been in Bosa I have had a little annoying thing happen to me each day. It is like a gnat that plays around your ears. It doesn’t really matter, but it just kinda gets to you after 3 months of living with it each day for 5 hours of work a day. If you were not sure, the gnat is not a gnat, it is a person. I love Michael dearly, but I something he does, or doesn’t do, gets on me enough to write about it. Whenever I say something to Michael he says “ehh?” or “what?”. Both pretty common things said in the English language. I am not sure if Michael has to adjust his ears to the frequency of my voice so that when I repeat myself he can understand, but it is everything I say that he questions. It isn’t that English isn’t his 3^rd or 4^th language because Kurt can speak to him with no problem. So I wrote the above part to question what the heck is wrong with my speech that Michael needs an echo to comprehend it?

Moral of the story, just answer the last question please…

100!!!

This is my 100th post. It was said it couldnt be done, but I made it to 100. The pool that people had that said i would quit early, i am sorry you lost your money. I feel like this is one of the occasions for a little dream bubble appear and remember the good times that have been had so far... The food, the fever, the beach, the cliff diving, the London, The Germany... I have had many experiences here while on my travels that have now been documented for when i am older and the memory starts to slip. I have a couple posts that i can go ahead and put up, but i think i am going to take a couple days sabbatical from posting. I will be heading to Barcelona in only a couple days and then to france then to see the parents. So if you stay tuned I am sure I will have new material including new cast members. Good thing my parents have a sense of humor...

Moral of the story, take a breather, breathing is good, keeps ya alive...