I sometimes forget how loud life can be. Living in the city, there is constant sound, even in the silence. A quiet walk home from the bus stop still has the whirr of cars passing by on the road behind me, and the freight train's horn can be heard through our windows as it passes through town. Voices filter in and out even at the sleepiest of moments on the metro, and my office has the constant fill of hallway conversations or music playing quietly on the computer. I never have silence.
I don't realize just how much sound bounces around in my day until I get a brief reprieve. Pandora is paused, I close my door, the world settles down, and things seem a bit more still, a bit more calm. It's not even that the moments before were frenetic or loud, but in those moments of enhanced quiet, everything just seems better. As though that piece that I hadn't known was missing has suddenly been clicked into place-- quietly.
Quietly, but not silently. As I sit here, tucked into my beloved quiet car on the train, I hear sound find its way into this journey. Even this protected space cannot hold silence. The overhead bin rattles, and I can hear the clink of the metal rails as we make our way along the tracks. A newspaper crinkles, someone clears his throat. The train horn sounds. But even so, even with that, it's quiet. A time to let my muscles soften a bit, a time to lean back and notice things like sunsets and ice-laden rivers. And it feels safe, unrushed, and utterly protected.
Shhhh.
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
January 28, 2014
August 20, 2013
Barca, Barca, Baaaarca!
I must admit that the entire reason Barcelona was part of our honeymoon plans was because the hubs insisted we go there to see FC Barcelona play a match. When he first proposed the idea, I whined a little bit about how I didn't want it to take away from our time in Morocco, but I eventually caved. Best. Decision. Ever.
We loved so many aspects of Barcelona, and seeing FC Barcelona play was a unique, fun experience. I love soccer, despite my own limited athletic abilities, yet I've rarely gone to a major team's stadium outside of the United States. The major differences I can tell so far? First, beer is not allowed to be served in the stadium, likely out of concern that drunk, rowdy fans will get out of control in the heat of the moment. Luckily, you can pick up a six-pack at a corner store just outside the stadium and get in your beverage-drinking before entering the stadium, if you so desire. (That is, unless you are in Buenos Aires, in which case no alcohol may be sold or consumed within a ten-block radius of the stadium.... those fans are in a whole other level of rowdy!!) Second, the stadiums are gigantic. GIGANTIC. Third, the fans come in all shapes and sizes, and they are committed to their team in ways that Americans just haven't internalized yet when it comes to soccer. They are extremely passionate about this game.
So with all of that knowledge, imagine being at the tippy top of an enormous stadium, surrounded by die-hard fans cheering and shouting in Catalán, downing a water bottle to try to cool down in the early June heat. Then imagine doing all of that while the best soccer team in the world works their magic on the field, right before your eyes.
Thanks, hubs. Good call on this one.
We won that day. The stadium exploded in celebratory cheers with each goal, and we even learned the fight song in Catalán, with the help of the jumbo-tron that projected the lyrics. It might be a while before we see FC Barcelona play again in person, but that afternoon will stick with us for a very long time.
August 13, 2013
Barcelona
You know when you visit a new city, and you instantly think, "I could totally live here!" because of how captivating it is? The hubs and I absolutely felt that way about Barcelona.
Barcelona is a magnificent city full of history, and from the wide pedestrian boulevards to the winding ancient streets, it seems that every little corner has a story. The buildings are beautiful, the food is great, the people are wonderful... it's safe to say that we fell in love with this part of Spain.
Every day we took to the streets, exploring new neighborhoods and learning about the city's history. Here I want to mention two exceptional walking tours: Runner Bean's free walking tour of the old city and Nick's Spanish Civil War walking tour. Both were great ways to see the city with informative guides, and not once did I feel like a cheesy tourist! :D Seriously, though, they were both fun. Nick's tour was one of the highlights of the entire trip, and I left having a tremendous respect for Barcelona and the anti-Franco activists who fought to keep their city safe. Amazing.
We saw so much of the city that it would be impossible to share all of it here. I'll have a couple more Barcelona posts coming up (soccer and Gaudi each need their own!), but for now, here are some of our favorite snippets of the city.
I can still feel the cobblestones beneath my feet and the sun warming my skin as I weave through the streets. The cathedrals have amazed and moved me, and I can't stop raving about the modernist architecture and the wonders of Gaudí. Maybe I'll pop in to the modern art museum to cool down for a bit or pop open a bottle of cava on the beach. This could take a while. There's still so much ahead.
June 26, 2013
Casablanca
Oh, Casablanca. Rationally, I knew that Humphrey Bogart wouldn't be walking the streets of Morocco, but I was hoping that this city would have a bit more of a romantic feel. In truth, it's a modern city that is both seedy and beautiful, and I had to keep in mind that this it probably represented the "real" urban Morocco. Tourism isn't a major part of Casablanca, and at times I felt as though the city didn't care about us. I wanted to be wooed, and I wanted Humphrey Bogart.
Since life can't be a romantic black-and-white film, however, the hubs and I went for the next best thing and created our own fun. Casablanca is home to a gigantic mosque on the sea, and the sight of such a beautiful structure arching upwards into the sky was breathtaking. I was so disappointed not to be able to go inside, as we missed the visiting hours, but if the exterior is any indication, this place is simply gorgeous.
After oohing and aahing for a while, the hubs and I embarked on a massive walking tour of the city. We walked for hours, admiring the beautiful and faded architecture. I would have loved to see this city in the 1920s, and it was easy to let my imagination run wild as we looked up at the buildings.
My favorite part, however, was a market area that was closing up shop for the day. Most of the vendors were gone or gathered in crowds watching the end of a soccer match, and as the hubs and I walked past the empty stalls, it felt at times that the only other souls there were the stray cats who had made their home beside the vegetable crates. I can't quite describe why I loved it here so much, but it stirred
something inside of me. Maybe we were seeing something that wasn't quite
meant for
us, but it beckoned all the same. It was as though time had frozen for a
moment, and though it was still, I could feel the rush of people
running around just hours before and nearly hear the voices calling out
to one another. The phantom market pulsed with abandoned life, and we
were hushed visitors catching the final glimpses of its secrets before
the gates were locked for the night.
June 17, 2013
Bad Travel Karma: A Sad But True Tale
Soooo, while I would love to jump into a series of lovey-dovey posts about our honeymoon, the hubs and I just learned that the 8GB card with most of our photos on it doesn't work with our card reader. So until we get a new card reader or a cord to connect our fancy new camera to our laptops, I will have to entertain you in other ways. And really, I have just the tale to kick things off.
A little fact about me: I have terrible travel karma when it comes to international travel. Sickness, lost luggage, missed connections, and stolen passports are just part of the game when you travel with me. And as much as I wanted our honeymoon to be stress-free, I knew in the back of my mind that the bad karma was there waiting. Lurking. Readying to pounce at any moment.
It began, as many bad karma stories do, with rain in New York and a delayed flight on Delta. After learning that the overhead lights for our seats were completely broken and being told by the flight attend that we were being high-maintenance for asking if we would have enough time to make our connection from Barcelona to Marrakech, I tried not to let the panic seep in. I am young and in love! I reminded myself. I am honeymoon-bound! There's no way things can go wrong!
Ha. Ha. Hahahahahahahahaha!
My suitcase was the last one to get off the luggage carousel. The Iberia check-in desk wouldn't let us check in for our connection because they said they there wasn't enough time for us to go back through security. Awesome. They shrugged and told us to go talk to Vueling, the small airline to whom they had contracted the flight. Vueling stared at us blankly and offered to sell us a new flight that left a few days later, without any sort of credit or refund for our original connection. Ummm, no thanks, Vueling. P.S. You suck.
We ended up purchasing a new flight through TAP, the Air Portugal folks, who were very nice and sympathetic to our "adventures" with Iberia/Vueling. So the hubs and I ended up spending some quality time in the Lisbon airport, trying to teach ourselves Portuguese. As we rushed through the airport, I realized that one of the bows on my shoes had fallen off. Sad, sad, shoe.
Things greatly improved after that, and Morocco treated us well. But my bad travel karma wasn't done with me yet. When our time in Morocco came to an end and we flew back to Spain to spend a week in Barcelona, my suitcase didn't quite make it on the plane, and we ended up waiting over an hour for the next Vueling flight to Barcelona to reunite us. This was relatively mild in terms of bad karma, but just enough to remind me that it could lunge back at us at any moment.
Lessons learned? Always give yourself lots of time if you have a connection. Divide clothes between different suitcases if traveling with a companion. Always bring the essentials in your carry-on. And never ever ever fly Vueling ever.
Now, readers, because I love you, I will now share with you some of my favorite Bad Karma Travel Tales. Buckle your seat belts and hold on to your barf bag, because this is going to be a bumpy ride!!
THE SOUTHEAST ASIAN VOMITING AND PASSPORT ADVENTURE
A couple of hours in to a 23-hour American Airlines flight to Vietnam with connection in Tokyo, I got food poisoning! I spent the next several hours vomiting into a paper bag, hating life. Since the flight had been delayed out of New York due to weather and an unruly intoxicated passenger who had to be escorted off the plane by police, I nearly missed my connection in Tokyo. Upon arrival, I vomited some more, found out upon landing in Ho Chi Minh City that all of my luggage was still in Japan, and burst into tears when I wearily stumbled through the arrival gate and saw the hubs standing there smiling. Then I dropped my passport in the back of the taxicab that brought us to our hotel and didn't realize it was lost until the receptionist asked for it. This tale, however, has a happy ending: The cab driver brought it back to the hotel instead of trying to sell it on the black market, and my sister-in-law, who is from Vietnam and thus obviously speaks Vietnamese, helped track down my luggage the next day. Yay!
IN WHICH LUFTHANSA DISCOURAGES STUDY ABROAD
On my way to study abroad in Italy, Lufthansa lost about 60% of the luggage for our group. Imagine being in southern Italy in August with only the suitcase containing your winter sweaters. Yeah.... Everything was eventually found, but it took a few days, and I remember feeling very sweaty. Lovely. The best part, though, was a few days before Christmas when we all arrived at the airport to fly back the United States, only to learn that Lufthansa had canceled the tickets for our entire study-abroad group because one student had called to change their flight, and the agent handling her call proceeded to then delete the entire reservation. We ended up spending the night in Germany at a gross airport hotel and got back to States a day later. Not a major disaster, but to this day I shudder when I see a Lufthansa plane.
THE MEXICAN SUITCASE
A few years ago I flew to Mexico to visit the hubs, who was abroad on a language fellowship, and once again, my suitcase was lost somewhere between DC and Mexico City. I forget what airline I took, but my bag arrived a couple of days later looking as though it had been through a civil war. The weird part is that the courier who transported my suitcase to our house in San Miguel de Allende had been on the same bus I took from Mexico City, yet he didn't deliver the suitcase until a day later...
TAKE-A-COFFIN AIRLINE
On a family trip to Honduras, we had to to take a small plane with TACA airlines between El Salvador and the island of Roatan. When we boarded the plane, it was boiling hot inside. Why? Because the air conditioner was completely broken, and the plane had been baking in the sun all day. It was a short flight, but we were all sweating to death, and the passengers were basically threatening mutiny. Honestly, this was an even more unpleasant experience than my food poisoning adventures with American Airlines. Also, the door that separates the cockpit from the rest of the plane was completely broken off its hinges, and we could all peer inside to see the pilot from the aisle. Terrifying. Absolutely terrifying.
And there you have it!! I survived it all, and I can still laugh at everything that's happened. That's really the trick to traveling. Be as prepared as possible, but at the end of the day, something ridiculous will happen, and you just have to deal with it. At the very least, it all makes for a wonderful story. :)
A little fact about me: I have terrible travel karma when it comes to international travel. Sickness, lost luggage, missed connections, and stolen passports are just part of the game when you travel with me. And as much as I wanted our honeymoon to be stress-free, I knew in the back of my mind that the bad karma was there waiting. Lurking. Readying to pounce at any moment.
It began, as many bad karma stories do, with rain in New York and a delayed flight on Delta. After learning that the overhead lights for our seats were completely broken and being told by the flight attend that we were being high-maintenance for asking if we would have enough time to make our connection from Barcelona to Marrakech, I tried not to let the panic seep in. I am young and in love! I reminded myself. I am honeymoon-bound! There's no way things can go wrong!
Ha. Ha. Hahahahahahahahaha!
My suitcase was the last one to get off the luggage carousel. The Iberia check-in desk wouldn't let us check in for our connection because they said they there wasn't enough time for us to go back through security. Awesome. They shrugged and told us to go talk to Vueling, the small airline to whom they had contracted the flight. Vueling stared at us blankly and offered to sell us a new flight that left a few days later, without any sort of credit or refund for our original connection. Ummm, no thanks, Vueling. P.S. You suck.
We ended up purchasing a new flight through TAP, the Air Portugal folks, who were very nice and sympathetic to our "adventures" with Iberia/Vueling. So the hubs and I ended up spending some quality time in the Lisbon airport, trying to teach ourselves Portuguese. As we rushed through the airport, I realized that one of the bows on my shoes had fallen off. Sad, sad, shoe.
Things greatly improved after that, and Morocco treated us well. But my bad travel karma wasn't done with me yet. When our time in Morocco came to an end and we flew back to Spain to spend a week in Barcelona, my suitcase didn't quite make it on the plane, and we ended up waiting over an hour for the next Vueling flight to Barcelona to reunite us. This was relatively mild in terms of bad karma, but just enough to remind me that it could lunge back at us at any moment.
Lessons learned? Always give yourself lots of time if you have a connection. Divide clothes between different suitcases if traveling with a companion. Always bring the essentials in your carry-on. And never ever ever fly Vueling ever.
Now, readers, because I love you, I will now share with you some of my favorite Bad Karma Travel Tales. Buckle your seat belts and hold on to your barf bag, because this is going to be a bumpy ride!!
THE SOUTHEAST ASIAN VOMITING AND PASSPORT ADVENTURE
A couple of hours in to a 23-hour American Airlines flight to Vietnam with connection in Tokyo, I got food poisoning! I spent the next several hours vomiting into a paper bag, hating life. Since the flight had been delayed out of New York due to weather and an unruly intoxicated passenger who had to be escorted off the plane by police, I nearly missed my connection in Tokyo. Upon arrival, I vomited some more, found out upon landing in Ho Chi Minh City that all of my luggage was still in Japan, and burst into tears when I wearily stumbled through the arrival gate and saw the hubs standing there smiling. Then I dropped my passport in the back of the taxicab that brought us to our hotel and didn't realize it was lost until the receptionist asked for it. This tale, however, has a happy ending: The cab driver brought it back to the hotel instead of trying to sell it on the black market, and my sister-in-law, who is from Vietnam and thus obviously speaks Vietnamese, helped track down my luggage the next day. Yay!
IN WHICH LUFTHANSA DISCOURAGES STUDY ABROAD
On my way to study abroad in Italy, Lufthansa lost about 60% of the luggage for our group. Imagine being in southern Italy in August with only the suitcase containing your winter sweaters. Yeah.... Everything was eventually found, but it took a few days, and I remember feeling very sweaty. Lovely. The best part, though, was a few days before Christmas when we all arrived at the airport to fly back the United States, only to learn that Lufthansa had canceled the tickets for our entire study-abroad group because one student had called to change their flight, and the agent handling her call proceeded to then delete the entire reservation. We ended up spending the night in Germany at a gross airport hotel and got back to States a day later. Not a major disaster, but to this day I shudder when I see a Lufthansa plane.
THE MEXICAN SUITCASE
A few years ago I flew to Mexico to visit the hubs, who was abroad on a language fellowship, and once again, my suitcase was lost somewhere between DC and Mexico City. I forget what airline I took, but my bag arrived a couple of days later looking as though it had been through a civil war. The weird part is that the courier who transported my suitcase to our house in San Miguel de Allende had been on the same bus I took from Mexico City, yet he didn't deliver the suitcase until a day later...
TAKE-A-COFFIN AIRLINE
On a family trip to Honduras, we had to to take a small plane with TACA airlines between El Salvador and the island of Roatan. When we boarded the plane, it was boiling hot inside. Why? Because the air conditioner was completely broken, and the plane had been baking in the sun all day. It was a short flight, but we were all sweating to death, and the passengers were basically threatening mutiny. Honestly, this was an even more unpleasant experience than my food poisoning adventures with American Airlines. Also, the door that separates the cockpit from the rest of the plane was completely broken off its hinges, and we could all peer inside to see the pilot from the aisle. Terrifying. Absolutely terrifying.
And there you have it!! I survived it all, and I can still laugh at everything that's happened. That's really the trick to traveling. Be as prepared as possible, but at the end of the day, something ridiculous will happen, and you just have to deal with it. At the very least, it all makes for a wonderful story. :)
March 18, 2013
A Jaunt to Portland, Maine
Alas, my Maine posts have come to an end! Who knew that I would have so much fun there? I was expecting to have a nice time, but I had no idea that it would as wonderful as it was! Isn't that just the best?
After the rest of the family headed back to the Midwest, the hubs and I were on our own again. We had planned to go to the L.L. Bean flagship store for no reason other than it seems like the thing to do when you're in Maine. On the way down to Freeport, we decided that since we were in the area, we might as well have lunch in Portland.
 |
| Hello, man with the yellow bag! Yes, you have indeed walked into my frame. |
This town wins my heart for being a salty seaport with adorable restaurants and cobblestone streets. Seriously, is there anything better?? The hubs and I immediately felt a connection with Portland, and our only regret was that we could not spend more time there. The upside is that we now know that next time we'll have to have our home base in Portland!
As we walked through the streets, we found a precious little Italian restaurant for lunch called Paciarino and decided to check it out. We couldn't get enough of their freshly made pasta and sauces, and the servers were so friendly that it made the meal even better. Our sunny little corner was the perfect spot to warm up and fill our bellies.
After we had our fill of fresh ravioli and tagliatelle, we had to get back on the road to visit L.L. Bean. The flagship store in Freeport is more of a compound, comprised of multiple buildings for clothing, hunting and fishing goods, and homewares. I had been hoping to walk away with a pair of new snow boots that I've been coveting, but they sadly were out of stock! I was disappointed, but the store had too many fun displays to be sad for too long.
As we started the drive back to Bangor, where we spent the night before flying home, I started to feel a bit tired from all of our exploring, but I also felt very happy. The night started to fall, and as I gazed out the car window up at the stars, the hubs by my side, I felt warm and content. Family means everything to me, and without taking those few days to spend with the hubs' side of the family, we never would have known what wonders were waiting for us to find. This trip had so much love woven throughout all of its parts: love for the hubs, hubs for our family, and love for Maine.
Love Maine? Catch up on my posts here:
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)