Feeling hot, hot, hot
I'm happy to report that my love affair with Barcelona
continued throughout the weekend, and it was only
increased by my indifference towards the cities that
followed. I could easily go back to Barcelona for
another vacation. The city itself is pretty quirky,
with lots of random sculptures and even more random
people roaming about. Tiny little barrios play host
to tons of tapas bars, cafes, and at least one
gagillion shops. Yeah, I counted. I spent a good
amount of time on my feet, walking to and from my
hostel (which was on the beach and a fair distance
away from anything worth seeing). I'd heard from a
few other travelers about pick pocketing and purse
snatching, but I lucked out. I also lucked out with
the bed bug phenomenon which got the better of a few
Canadians. Gross.
On my second night in Barcelona, a group of us went
out for tapas and dancing. At the suggestion of Julie
McCoy at the hostel (not her real name, but you get
the idea) we set out for La Paloma, an apparently
popular club for good house/techno/allnight dancing.
So not my thing, but I thought I'd give it a whirl.
We had passes for free entry as long as we arrived
before 2 am. We found the place and as we walked in
we were transported back about 40-50 years. The place
was huge. Surrounding the roller rink size dance
floor were two levels of schwanky, crushed velvet
couches and very glitzy gold trim. On the stage was a
10-piece swing band (complete with white jackets) and
they were going to town with hits from the 50's. I
loved it. The folks who were looking for thumping
bass and whoop whoop noise were most disappointed. A
few of us forgot about our two left feet and just
acted like we knew what we were doing on the dance
floor and that we looked great doing it. The band
stopped after 45 minutes or so, and then the DJ took
over, and then it became the cruddy
house/techno/thumping bass crap that the others had
wanted. I took it as a good time to make the long
walk back to the house of bed bugs.
On Sunday, my last full day in Barcelona, I caught the
double decker tourist bus and got a full tour of the
city. We went by the Olympic park, the soccer
stadium, lots of different churches, and Gaudi´s
still-unfinished cathedral, La Sagrada Familia. This
thing has been under construction for well-over 100
years and still isn't expected to be completed until
2025. After the bus tour, I treated myself to a quiet
night and a yummy burrito at a Mexican restaurant.
(It was the first burrito I'd had in almost 2 months!)
The next day, we were off to Madrid. Talk about hot.
Madrid, so far, has been the hottest part of the trip.
When we arrived it was still in the high 30´s, and
that was at 7:30 p.m. The next two days saw temps
climb up into the low 40´s and the importance of a
siesta became very obvious even though a stuffy hostel
room provided little relief from the heat. The cold
shower, however, was fantastic!
I've learned that so much of my impression of a city
is based on initial impressions (not unlike most
things in life). And the initial impression usually
comes on our walk from the bus to the hostel.
Busabout has a knack for choosing hostels in less-than
desirable neighborhoods. In Madrid, for example, we
passed about 13 tattoo/piercing parlors and at least
30 prostitutes on our short (one block) walk. (We
also passed about 6 cops patrolling the street, so it
was safely smutty.) What was my point? Oh, just that
the hostel kind of makes the city, so obviously the
girls who got attacked by bed bugs in Barcelona
probably weren't so impressed.
Anyway, off of that tangent. Madrid is a very real
city. It doesn't have a lot of Barcelona´s tourist
charm. The buildings are beautiful, and the food was
relatively good and inexpensive, but I didn't find
anything especially spectacular about the city itself.
The city has many museums--even a few dedicated to
pork. (Yeah, a ham museum or, as we called them, pig
palaces!) I did spend a good portion of one day
wandering through a huge park, and on my last night I
sought some culture and went to the theater to see
Cabaret. La vie es un cabaret! Why did I think it
would be in English? I don´t know either. But it was
great. I bought a 20€ ticket to sit at the bar and as
soon as the lights went down, I got moved to a 65€
seat at a table within spitting distance of the stage.
From Madrid, we headed south to Seville. I found it
hard to believe that it could be hotter than Madrid
anywhere outside of hell (or Rancho Mirage), but
Seville did a good job of proving me wrong. Tiny,
narrow streets are covered with sun shades to keep the
people shopping during the hotter parts of the morning
and early evening. And siesta is taken very seriously
here. Seville sort of turns into Tombstone around 1
p.m. and I think it would be hard to find many people
before 6 p.m. (I wouldn't know, though. I enjoyed
the siestas, too.)
Our hostel in Seville was a cute little B&B, but the
cuteness wore off as soon as we discovered that we
were on the top floor (of 3) and that there was no
elevator. Three floors ordinarily wouldn't bother me.
I've gotten used to taking the stairs, even with my
big old backpack. But these were steep, STEEP,
stairs. Fifty-seven of them if I counted right. So,
suffice it to say, once I'd leave, I gave myself
little reason to return until it was way too hot
outside. And then, once I was back, I stretched my
siesta out as long as possible. Harry Potter helped
with that endeavor. One of the girls in my room had
purchased the latest book back in Barcelona, and let
me read it. Talk about power reading. I finished the
thing in two and a half siestas. It wasn't that I
couldn't put it down (okay, part of it was). It was
more that I didn't want to lug the thing around (I was
told I could borrow it until Lisbon).
In Seville, I did even more walking. Calves of steel,
baby. :) I toured the big cathedral, checked out the
Plaza de Espana, saw the bullfighting ring (the
outside--I refused to watch), and a few other sights
around the city. Seville, like everywhere else it
seems, is under major construction. They're in the
process of building a metro, and it's impossible to go
very far without running into a street that's torn up,
or hearing the sound of jackhammers and other heavy
equipment. Personally, I think they should invest
some time and money and smooth over some of the
cobblestone streets. Yeah, yeah, yeah, quaint
schmaint. They're beautiful, sure. But my knees and
ankles are tired of them. :)
Never did see the barber of Seville. But I did meet
the Bubba of Seville. He was a cute, 8-month old
boxer pup who was nice enough to pose for a picture
with me. In Spanish, Bubba means drool. All these
great things I'm learning! On my last night, a few of
us found our way to a Flamenco bar and watched a
performance. It was really simple. Not the dance,
the setup. Just a guitarist, a singer, and a dancer.
All were unplugged, and it was unreal. Her feet were
moving so fast it was like watching hummingbird wings.
And the singer and guitarist were just as talented.
I didn't stay for too long because, like everywhere
else in Spain, things didn't get going until 11:30,
and I was exhausted by about 11:45. But I lasted
until 12:30 when a few of us left so we could get a
few hours of shuteye before our 8 am departure for
Lisbon.
I'm not sure about Lisbon yet. My first impression
wasn't great. Again, our hostel isn't in a great
area. No hookers or tattoo places, but not really
near anything touristy either. It's a good ride on
the metro to get to the center of town, and I'm
finding that 2 days is plenty. So today I took that
metro ride and explored the heart of Lisbon's tourist
district. Lots of shops and cafes and a pretty cool
waterfront with all kinds of statues and monuments
dedicated to various explorers. Lisbon is uber-hilly,
so after a walk around the flatlands, I hopped a bus
and headed uphill to the Castello Sao George. This
castle sits on the highest point in the city and,
consequently, has commanding views of Lisbon. From
the top, I had a great view of Lisbon's version of the
Golden Gate Bridge and all of the red tile roofs a
girl could ask for. This week at the castle, they're
holding a beer festival. Someone didn't plan this
right. The setting itself is beautiful what with the
views and all. But one of the fun things about the
castle itself is that you can climb up and walk all
around the turrets and walls and peek through the
little slats in the stone where armies once defended
the city. Narrow, slippery staircases, high walkways,
very few railings, and a whole lot of beer. To me,
that's just asking for trouble. But I managed to stay
on my feet (probably because I avoided the beer).
From the castle, I took a long walk back down to the
square, and then a longer walk along the waterfront to
check out some of the "real" parts of the city. These
parts of Lisbon reminded me of the twisting, narrow
streets in the Greek Islands and in some parts of
Italy.
That pretty much wraps up today. I'm at an Internet
cafe now, and had hoped to upload a bunch of photos,
but they wanted to charge me .30€ per and I've got
well over 100, so I think I'll wait on the photos for
a bit. Tomorrow, I'm going to take a day trip out to
Sintra, a nearby town that apparently has lots more
castles and other cool stuff to see. Rick Steves
highly recommends it, so I'm sure it's worth checking
out. :)
I leave Lisbon on Wednesday and go to Salamanca, Spain
for one night. From there, I'll catch a train to San
Sebastian (this is to avoid spending another 2 nights
in Madrid as the bus schedule dictates) where I'll
stay for a night before heading back into France and
Bordeaux (on the bus) for 3 nights. By then, it will
be August. How'd that happen already?
Happy trails ;)
Michele
Same goes
continued throughout the weekend, and it was only
increased by my indifference towards the cities that
followed. I could easily go back to Barcelona for
another vacation. The city itself is pretty quirky,
with lots of random sculptures and even more random
people roaming about. Tiny little barrios play host
to tons of tapas bars, cafes, and at least one
gagillion shops. Yeah, I counted. I spent a good
amount of time on my feet, walking to and from my
hostel (which was on the beach and a fair distance
away from anything worth seeing). I'd heard from a
few other travelers about pick pocketing and purse
snatching, but I lucked out. I also lucked out with
the bed bug phenomenon which got the better of a few
Canadians. Gross.
On my second night in Barcelona, a group of us went
out for tapas and dancing. At the suggestion of Julie
McCoy at the hostel (not her real name, but you get
the idea) we set out for La Paloma, an apparently
popular club for good house/techno/allnight dancing.
So not my thing, but I thought I'd give it a whirl.
We had passes for free entry as long as we arrived
before 2 am. We found the place and as we walked in
we were transported back about 40-50 years. The place
was huge. Surrounding the roller rink size dance
floor were two levels of schwanky, crushed velvet
couches and very glitzy gold trim. On the stage was a
10-piece swing band (complete with white jackets) and
they were going to town with hits from the 50's. I
loved it. The folks who were looking for thumping
bass and whoop whoop noise were most disappointed. A
few of us forgot about our two left feet and just
acted like we knew what we were doing on the dance
floor and that we looked great doing it. The band
stopped after 45 minutes or so, and then the DJ took
over, and then it became the cruddy
house/techno/thumping bass crap that the others had
wanted. I took it as a good time to make the long
walk back to the house of bed bugs.
On Sunday, my last full day in Barcelona, I caught the
double decker tourist bus and got a full tour of the
city. We went by the Olympic park, the soccer
stadium, lots of different churches, and Gaudi´s
still-unfinished cathedral, La Sagrada Familia. This
thing has been under construction for well-over 100
years and still isn't expected to be completed until
2025. After the bus tour, I treated myself to a quiet
night and a yummy burrito at a Mexican restaurant.
(It was the first burrito I'd had in almost 2 months!)
The next day, we were off to Madrid. Talk about hot.
Madrid, so far, has been the hottest part of the trip.
When we arrived it was still in the high 30´s, and
that was at 7:30 p.m. The next two days saw temps
climb up into the low 40´s and the importance of a
siesta became very obvious even though a stuffy hostel
room provided little relief from the heat. The cold
shower, however, was fantastic!
I've learned that so much of my impression of a city
is based on initial impressions (not unlike most
things in life). And the initial impression usually
comes on our walk from the bus to the hostel.
Busabout has a knack for choosing hostels in less-than
desirable neighborhoods. In Madrid, for example, we
passed about 13 tattoo/piercing parlors and at least
30 prostitutes on our short (one block) walk. (We
also passed about 6 cops patrolling the street, so it
was safely smutty.) What was my point? Oh, just that
the hostel kind of makes the city, so obviously the
girls who got attacked by bed bugs in Barcelona
probably weren't so impressed.
Anyway, off of that tangent. Madrid is a very real
city. It doesn't have a lot of Barcelona´s tourist
charm. The buildings are beautiful, and the food was
relatively good and inexpensive, but I didn't find
anything especially spectacular about the city itself.
The city has many museums--even a few dedicated to
pork. (Yeah, a ham museum or, as we called them, pig
palaces!) I did spend a good portion of one day
wandering through a huge park, and on my last night I
sought some culture and went to the theater to see
Cabaret. La vie es un cabaret! Why did I think it
would be in English? I don´t know either. But it was
great. I bought a 20€ ticket to sit at the bar and as
soon as the lights went down, I got moved to a 65€
seat at a table within spitting distance of the stage.
From Madrid, we headed south to Seville. I found it
hard to believe that it could be hotter than Madrid
anywhere outside of hell (or Rancho Mirage), but
Seville did a good job of proving me wrong. Tiny,
narrow streets are covered with sun shades to keep the
people shopping during the hotter parts of the morning
and early evening. And siesta is taken very seriously
here. Seville sort of turns into Tombstone around 1
p.m. and I think it would be hard to find many people
before 6 p.m. (I wouldn't know, though. I enjoyed
the siestas, too.)
Our hostel in Seville was a cute little B&B, but the
cuteness wore off as soon as we discovered that we
were on the top floor (of 3) and that there was no
elevator. Three floors ordinarily wouldn't bother me.
I've gotten used to taking the stairs, even with my
big old backpack. But these were steep, STEEP,
stairs. Fifty-seven of them if I counted right. So,
suffice it to say, once I'd leave, I gave myself
little reason to return until it was way too hot
outside. And then, once I was back, I stretched my
siesta out as long as possible. Harry Potter helped
with that endeavor. One of the girls in my room had
purchased the latest book back in Barcelona, and let
me read it. Talk about power reading. I finished the
thing in two and a half siestas. It wasn't that I
couldn't put it down (okay, part of it was). It was
more that I didn't want to lug the thing around (I was
told I could borrow it until Lisbon).
In Seville, I did even more walking. Calves of steel,
baby. :) I toured the big cathedral, checked out the
Plaza de Espana, saw the bullfighting ring (the
outside--I refused to watch), and a few other sights
around the city. Seville, like everywhere else it
seems, is under major construction. They're in the
process of building a metro, and it's impossible to go
very far without running into a street that's torn up,
or hearing the sound of jackhammers and other heavy
equipment. Personally, I think they should invest
some time and money and smooth over some of the
cobblestone streets. Yeah, yeah, yeah, quaint
schmaint. They're beautiful, sure. But my knees and
ankles are tired of them. :)
Never did see the barber of Seville. But I did meet
the Bubba of Seville. He was a cute, 8-month old
boxer pup who was nice enough to pose for a picture
with me. In Spanish, Bubba means drool. All these
great things I'm learning! On my last night, a few of
us found our way to a Flamenco bar and watched a
performance. It was really simple. Not the dance,
the setup. Just a guitarist, a singer, and a dancer.
All were unplugged, and it was unreal. Her feet were
moving so fast it was like watching hummingbird wings.
And the singer and guitarist were just as talented.
I didn't stay for too long because, like everywhere
else in Spain, things didn't get going until 11:30,
and I was exhausted by about 11:45. But I lasted
until 12:30 when a few of us left so we could get a
few hours of shuteye before our 8 am departure for
Lisbon.
I'm not sure about Lisbon yet. My first impression
wasn't great. Again, our hostel isn't in a great
area. No hookers or tattoo places, but not really
near anything touristy either. It's a good ride on
the metro to get to the center of town, and I'm
finding that 2 days is plenty. So today I took that
metro ride and explored the heart of Lisbon's tourist
district. Lots of shops and cafes and a pretty cool
waterfront with all kinds of statues and monuments
dedicated to various explorers. Lisbon is uber-hilly,
so after a walk around the flatlands, I hopped a bus
and headed uphill to the Castello Sao George. This
castle sits on the highest point in the city and,
consequently, has commanding views of Lisbon. From
the top, I had a great view of Lisbon's version of the
Golden Gate Bridge and all of the red tile roofs a
girl could ask for. This week at the castle, they're
holding a beer festival. Someone didn't plan this
right. The setting itself is beautiful what with the
views and all. But one of the fun things about the
castle itself is that you can climb up and walk all
around the turrets and walls and peek through the
little slats in the stone where armies once defended
the city. Narrow, slippery staircases, high walkways,
very few railings, and a whole lot of beer. To me,
that's just asking for trouble. But I managed to stay
on my feet (probably because I avoided the beer).
From the castle, I took a long walk back down to the
square, and then a longer walk along the waterfront to
check out some of the "real" parts of the city. These
parts of Lisbon reminded me of the twisting, narrow
streets in the Greek Islands and in some parts of
Italy.
That pretty much wraps up today. I'm at an Internet
cafe now, and had hoped to upload a bunch of photos,
but they wanted to charge me .30€ per and I've got
well over 100, so I think I'll wait on the photos for
a bit. Tomorrow, I'm going to take a day trip out to
Sintra, a nearby town that apparently has lots more
castles and other cool stuff to see. Rick Steves
highly recommends it, so I'm sure it's worth checking
out. :)
I leave Lisbon on Wednesday and go to Salamanca, Spain
for one night. From there, I'll catch a train to San
Sebastian (this is to avoid spending another 2 nights
in Madrid as the bus schedule dictates) where I'll
stay for a night before heading back into France and
Bordeaux (on the bus) for 3 nights. By then, it will
be August. How'd that happen already?
Happy trails ;)
Michele
Same goes
posted by Frank | 7/25/2005 02:03:00 PM
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