I'm writing this post whilst drinking a very strong expresso in a little coffee shop in Venice. I had to pay an extra 1.50 euros to sit down, so I'm going to make that money count and take the time to write you all.
The last week has been a whirlwind of activity. During my final two days in Madrid, I interviewed my two hosts (which was amazing), visited Retiro Park and the Prado museum again, ate a fig the size of a large orange and a mango that dwarfed my head, and was lucky enough to be able to enjoy the company of a few girls from my yoga program. I've been doing my best to maintain a consistent yoga practice, so I commandeered Kelly and Jakob's balcony for an afternoon and practiced my sun salutations next to the two marijuana plants. In Spain, it is completely legal to grow your own marijuana. Each household is allowed one plant per resident and can only grow for private use. I think this is a fantastic law and would love to see something like this implemented in the states. As a first step toward legalization, at least.
All in all, I loved nearly every bit of Spain I was fortunate enough to see. The people are friendly, Madrid is clean and lively, the architecture is beautiful, the food is incredible, the public transportation is very efficient, and the countryside took my breath away. It definitely has its problems, but so does every large city. I had to learn very quickly to avoid leaning against a tree whilst clad in anything remotely suggestive, for fear of being mistaken as a prostitute. There are many girls and their pimps lining some of the main streets, and it's a very disheartening sight. Because of the job crisis, there is also a fair amount of homeless beggars sitting at the intersections with their cats or dogs and cans for spare change. The over-abundance of obnoxious street performers is probably directly related to the job crises as well, so as much as their high pitched trilling got under my skin, I did my best to not show my irritation the couple of times they chased me down with their roses and balloons.
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| The boating lake in the middle of Retiro Park |
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| The glass chapel in Retiro Park |
I learned that when they introduced the Euro to Spain, working Spaniards were unknowingly robbed blind. Jakob explained it to me very well, but I don't know if I can relate the situation with nearly as much clarity. If I remember correctly, the euro was worth about 44 cents more than the Spanish currency. When they converted, they did not take this difference into account. If a bottle of water cost 1 Spanish dollar (I don't know what their currency was called...), then it just changed to 1 euro, thus subtly raising the price 44 cents. The only thing that they DID convert was the salary. If you used to make 10 Spanish dollars an hour, you would make 6 euros an hour with the new currency. Thus, cost of living was raised and wages were lowered in one fell swoop.
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A few tents leftover from the protest in Puerto del Sol
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| Protestors in Puerto del Sol |
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| A few of the signs put up by the protestors |
I tried the Tetilla cheese, Trina! I wasn't able to have very much because the cheese market we found was exorbitantly expensive, but I had enough of a taste to experience the delicious texture. It wasn't quite as strong as I prefer, but the texture was pretty sublime. I've also eaten an ABUNDANCE or jamon since I finished yoga boot camp. My taste buds and my atrophied muscles have been in a constant state of ecstasy. Thank god for tasty animals and people who can prepare them so exquisitely. My spirit may never reach samadhi, but my taste buds will.
I had to leave for Madrid's airport at 4:00 Friday morning. It was a melancholy experience for me, due to all the friends I found myself leaving behind. I could have stayed with Kelly and Jakob for weeks and been completely happy. I would've camped out on their balcony and just enjoyed listening to this happy couple talk to each other. I'm not sure if I've ever had the joy of witnessing people more head over heels in love, and god, it's a lovely thing to see. I was also pretty broken up about saying goodbye to my fellow yogis. There were some close friendships formed during that training, and I desperately hope that I'll be able to keep these people in my life.
Anyway... Four in the morning. I lugged my massive bag down five rickety flights of winding, wooden stairs, and walked the ten minutes to the bus station. I had been planning on taking the metro (I'm a metro queen these days ;) ), but Jakob told me the night before that the metro doesn't get going until six thirty. Thank-you, Jakob.
After the forty five minute bus ride to the airport, I found my terminal and checked in. I had to go through the massive security line twice though, as I absent-mindedly put a bottle full of water through the scanner. The guard told me to go to the bathroom and empty it. It was "not possible"' for me to just drink it or empty it out in one of the many drinking fountains.
I waited in the terminal for about two hours before my plane left. There was a half hour delay, but after that, the flight was good. After arriving in Venice, I caught a half hour long bus ride to the Venice train station. After waiting in line for another half an hour, I managed to purchase a ticket for Bologna. Forty five minutes later and after indignantly yelling at a man who asked me to pay him a euro for carrying my bag up five stairs, I caught my train. The first hour was spent in panic, thinking I had boarded the wrong train, but the second hour was spent in very pleasant conversation with a fashion designer named Luca, who kindly informed me that I was indeed on the train for Bologna.
After arriving in Bologna, I got lost. Very, very lost. I was hot, tired, irritable, dehydrated, and GOD did I have to pee. I had directions that said things like "stay right to stay on ***** street", and "stay left to stay on ***** street". I wandered around like a dehydrated lunatic until two very nice Italian women told me that all the "stay right" nonsense just meant "cross the square."
I love Italians.
My desperate urge to relieve myself gave me an extra boost of energy, and I summoned all the speed I could muster and bee-lined for the hotel. Thirty minutes later, I found myself in a very pleasant hotel room with a note from Svetlana on the bed, telling me that she'd gone for a walk and would be back by five. As much as I'd been looking forward to seeing her, this bit of solitary respite was a relief. I smelled terrible, I was cranky, and I needed to pee so badly that I probably would have blazed right past her into the bathroom anyway. By the time she returned from her walk, I felt fairly human again. We went out for a together, and I experienced a whole new level of creamy goodness in Italian ice-cream.
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| Our hotel lobby |
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| Our frequently visited ice-cream parlor |
Italy is similar to Spain in that both countries eat late dinners, so Svetlana and I, sustained by some obscure flavors of delicious ice-cream, wandered the colorful streets of Bologna until eight thirty. Svetlana had done a lot of research regarding which restaurants to eat at, so the food was local and superb. During the last three days, I've succeeded in re-toxing my body (after my three week fling with vegetarianism) with superlative cheese, wine, ice-cream, meat, and coffee.
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| A little restaurant that served only pork, cheese, and wine. What more could you want? |
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| Svetlana and I in a hole-in-the-wall type restaurant in Florence |
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| Where there was wine. |
And my body feels good. Really, really good.
Except I think I just got the most intense sunburn of my life. We'll see how that pans out tomorrow.
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| What happens when you just finish bragging about how you never burn |
After doing yoga on the roof of the hotel, Svetlana and I spent the whole of Saturday meandering through Bologna, on bus and on foot. We both loved the city, and I wholeheartedly agreed with Svetlana when she said that she should have been born in Italy. She seemed so comfortable and happy there. I felt incredibly fortunate that she let me experience Bologna with her.
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| Rooftop yoga |
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| Svetlana really does belong in Italy |
We walked through a mall with the most expensive stores in the world. I think I finally understand why people can be so passionate about style. The clothes and bags and glasses I saw in Bologna were exorbitant, but they were stunning works of craftsmanship. A boot stopped being a boot and became a piece of art that you could tell someone had poured an abundance of hard work and creative energy into. I loved window shopping with Svetlana, because she has such excellent taste and could point out to me all the little things that added up to make the whole article beautiful. Much like Alex can do with music and film. I told her that by the time I get home, I'll be dirt poor, but have impeccable taste.
Svetlana saw me eyeing a very sweet, blue dress, and generously offered to buy it for me. I do believe it's the nicest dress I've ever owned, and I love the way I feel when I wear it. It's similar to getting a haircut that expresses your personality better. I know these are revelations most of you have had before, but I've denied the importance of clothes for so long that this is a bit of a worldview shift for me.
After doing yoga to the sun rising over the city of Bologna, Svetlana and I enjoyed breakfast and headed down to the train station. There was quite a bit of confusion regarding buses and trains and platforms, but we ended up in Florence before noon. I think Svetlana described the city quite acutely when she said that it was all one big museum. The architecture was breathtaking, but the crowds of thronging tourists were stifling. The city had pockets of foul smelling air every couple hundred feet, and most shops were full of touristy trinkets. Svetlana had developed pretty severe blisters on both feet, but trudged on like the traveling trooper she is. She didn't complain at all -- just expressed immense gratitude when we found a shop where she could buy some bandages. We stopped at a very authentic local restaurant for cheese, meat, wine, and octopus salad. The hole in the wall lunch room was definitely one of the highlights of our trip to Florence.
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| A very small section of the marble church in Florence. The thing was massive. |
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| Florence |
After returning to Bologna, Svetlana and I indulged in more delicious ice-cream, and then returned to the hotel to put up our overworked feet. Following yet another phenomenal dinner, we hit the hay. Hard.
I had my morning yoga session at six, and I was very pleased with how well I challenged myself and the fairly complex routine I was capable of designing. I will be a yoga teacher one of these days, just you wait.
I caught the train back to Venice at about 17:00 and arrived at 18:45. I had to wait until 20:00 for Paolo (the very nice Italian physical trainer I'm surfing with) to pick me up, but it gave me a chance to listen to a Robb Wolf podcast and indulge in some nostalgia.
Paolo's place is lovely, and it's a ten minute bus ride into the heart of Venice. He gave me his bedroom and is sleeping on the couch. I found this a bit odd and uncomfortable, but he said that this arrangement works out better for him, so I'm trying to be okay with displacing the person I'm surfing with.
Today has been a strange sort of day... Paolo left for work a little before 8:00, and unlike the last people I stayed with, he did not give me a key to his apartment. Which is perfectly fine and understandable, but it kind of left me feeling a bit stranded for the day. However, there are far worse places to feel stranded than in Venice, Italy. I took the bus into the center and have now been wandering around the city for nine hours, stopping in cafes or in patches of shade to write every now and then. Nine hours is a long time to be walking by yourself. Venice in general is a difficult place to be by yourself. There are so many couples enjoying the romantic atmosphere of this ancient city. I keep wanting Alex to be here to enjoy it with me. And make fun of the way I pronounce "ancient". It's been a lonely, lovely, tiring, introspective sort of day. As much as I'm blown away by the unique beauty of this city, I'm looking forward to 20:00, when Paolo gets home and I can take a nap.
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| Rialto Bridge |
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| Lost in Venice |
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| Relieving yourself in Europe is ridiculously hard. |
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| Reassuring. |
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| A park I wandered into. |
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| A local's boat |
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| Tourist boats |
I'm wrapping this post up from Paolo's apartment. After getting quite lost in the labyrinth of Venice, getting all sorts of funny looks for making the alarm go off in a grocery store, and hearing more German spoken than I did in Berlin, I took the bus back to Paolo's. Or the general vicinity of Paolo's. I managed to get lost yet again as I was looking for his apartment. It really is a gift, my ability to get lost under any circumstance.
Paolo gave me a wonderful evening. He made me a delicious arugula/ parmesan salad, and then took me out to the best ice-cream shop in Venice. A shop which is far out of the tourist's radar, I might add. He says that none of the good restaurants or ice-cream shops are in the tourist areas on the island. They save the good food for the natives. I'm really fortunate (once again) to have a really knowledgable, generous host to help me navigate through all the nasty stuff most tourists have to deal with. Also, Paolo is just a really nice, intelligent guy. He's even letting me do my laundry in his washing machine -- something I haven't had the luxury of in over a month.
I start my first WWOOFing experience tomorrow. Carla is picking me up from the train station in Loreo at 20:00. I'm very excited about being able to stay in one place for a while. I've loved every second of my time in Madrid, Bologna, Florence, and Venice, but I'm about ready to settle down and get to work. I don't know what the internet connection will be like at Carla's, but I'll do my best to let you all know when I arrive.
Theme for Wednesday: Used to be. As in the status of something changing. Tomatoes USED to be poisonous. Acai USED to be able to make you live forever. And stuff. Soy USED to be really healthy for everyone.
I love you all and hope you're having a magnificent summer!
Some sunburn!!! Love the Venice photos!!
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