Only four days in the country and I am picking up my fair share of bad Czech. Tania's language skills have always amazed me, but this language is very difficult to understand, it is truly impossible to seperate one word from another and I hear it is a grammatical nightmare of Latin proportions, so I stick to the greetings and thank you's I can handle by hearing them repeated to me and let Tania tackle the big questions like, What would you like to drink?
The city itself is so beautiful and I wonder how I could have been here and not remember any of it, really and truly. I never did drugs as a teenager and I wonder if someone slipped some in my drink when I visited here before becuase it is officially wiped from my brain. Tania has a 9 to 5 job with NYU so I've been putzing around town, taking in a site or two before landing myself in a coffee house to soak up the true Czech culture, surrounded by smoke, earthy music and really good and cheap coffee I feel I could get to really know this place well.
The city itself is breathtaking and there is so much culture, musically, architecturally, historically that you can't help but to want to know about this building or that bridge, what that word means or what there deal is with the Russians. But all of the Czech people that I have met have been so warm and open, with an amazing grasp of English, that I feel I could ask them anything and they would oblige me with an answer.
Words I have learned...spelled phonetically as I understand them not as they are-
Ahoy - Hello/What's Up?
Ciaoooo- Goodbye
dra-coo-you - Thank you
Pro-seem - you are welcome
Protoge(like we would say it)- Because
Pro-tch - Why
Becarovka- Amazing drink that "tastes like Christmas" and makes me feel better about not being able to drink the beer here which flows into big beer steins like water.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Ahoy! Prague is the gobbles
Arrrr ahoy me maties! You have discovered me in the pirate town of Prague, known for its sunken treasure and peg-legged patrons...just kidding. Ahoy, is apparently a greeting they use here like we would say Whats Up? I've decided to kick back stateside in a tribute to my time here and my love of all thing naturical/piratical.
So, I have been in Prague since Monday afternoon, when I got off at four in the p.m. and must have looked ridiculously dazed because Tania, my friend who lives here (in a really sweet NYU subsidized flat) and works for my alma mater and hers, gave me a very curious look and asked if I was ok. I told her that I had been up since 6:15 and since I was not a morning person and had gone to bed really late, ala Spanish custom, that I was feeling a bit tired, yes. I got on a Brussels airlines flight in Spain to travel to Brussels where I sat next to a man whose breath was so helacious that I literally had to hold my nose everytime he exhaled deeply or yawned, which was a lot. I had a three hour layover in Brussels airport and then headed on another flight to Prague where I was squeezed into a tiny airplane and my fellow traveler to my right had a very distinct body odor. In addition to the odor issues there was the whole language overload as well, on what should have been my short journey, I heard Spanish, French, Flemish, English and Czech. So yeah I was a little out of it. Luckily the first 50 pages of Love in the Time of Cholera was so challenging I would get a half a paragraph in and doze off. But the book is really good once you get into the story and characters. My favorite part about traveling is getting to read. That sounds weird but its true.
So, I have been in Prague since Monday afternoon, when I got off at four in the p.m. and must have looked ridiculously dazed because Tania, my friend who lives here (in a really sweet NYU subsidized flat) and works for my alma mater and hers, gave me a very curious look and asked if I was ok. I told her that I had been up since 6:15 and since I was not a morning person and had gone to bed really late, ala Spanish custom, that I was feeling a bit tired, yes. I got on a Brussels airlines flight in Spain to travel to Brussels where I sat next to a man whose breath was so helacious that I literally had to hold my nose everytime he exhaled deeply or yawned, which was a lot. I had a three hour layover in Brussels airport and then headed on another flight to Prague where I was squeezed into a tiny airplane and my fellow traveler to my right had a very distinct body odor. In addition to the odor issues there was the whole language overload as well, on what should have been my short journey, I heard Spanish, French, Flemish, English and Czech. So yeah I was a little out of it. Luckily the first 50 pages of Love in the Time of Cholera was so challenging I would get a half a paragraph in and doze off. But the book is really good once you get into the story and characters. My favorite part about traveling is getting to read. That sounds weird but its true.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Tossa de Mar est muoy bonita
I don´t know if the title of this entry is correct Spanish. I am not even sure that it is saying what I would like it to, which is, Tossa de Mar (the seaside town where we are staying for another day) is very beautiful. My Spanish is non-existent and Niall is finally proving his worth as a linguist. I have heard of the great Irish, Catalan and Spanish that he can, apparently, spew, but I have heard very little of it until this trip. Although it is a bit crude with his R´s elongated and rough as they are in his Dublin accented English, he makes himself understood, as well as understood to be decidedly not from here.
The town we are in is beautiful. We have a hotel situated practically on the beach with a mountain to our left side and a mountaintop castle to our right, the sea, with several small rock islands pushing out into the otherwise flat, blue mirror-like surface, is breathtaking.
We have little to do here except worry about how many postcards to send or whether we should have our main meal in the middle or the end of the day. We are both extrememly relaxed and I feel that, more than I realized, this vacation was very much needed.
I have been quickly eating up Anthony Bourdain´s Kitchen Confidential, kicking myself that I left his other book, A Cook´s Tour, back in Dublin. He is good, really good (to copy his writing style). And just as proof, last night I had a vicious dream that I can´t quite remember except that is was centered around a kitchen and knives were being wielded.
Tommorrow it is back to Barcelona for one more night, a stop at the major landmarks not yet seen, purchasing chocolate for friends and missed ones and then leaving the Irish guy to sha-sha-sha his way back to the homeland (he hates when I do that), while I make my way east across the great Europa to Prague and the unknown days and nights that wait for me there.
The town we are in is beautiful. We have a hotel situated practically on the beach with a mountain to our left side and a mountaintop castle to our right, the sea, with several small rock islands pushing out into the otherwise flat, blue mirror-like surface, is breathtaking.
We have little to do here except worry about how many postcards to send or whether we should have our main meal in the middle or the end of the day. We are both extrememly relaxed and I feel that, more than I realized, this vacation was very much needed.
I have been quickly eating up Anthony Bourdain´s Kitchen Confidential, kicking myself that I left his other book, A Cook´s Tour, back in Dublin. He is good, really good (to copy his writing style). And just as proof, last night I had a vicious dream that I can´t quite remember except that is was centered around a kitchen and knives were being wielded.
Tommorrow it is back to Barcelona for one more night, a stop at the major landmarks not yet seen, purchasing chocolate for friends and missed ones and then leaving the Irish guy to sha-sha-sha his way back to the homeland (he hates when I do that), while I make my way east across the great Europa to Prague and the unknown days and nights that wait for me there.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
The rain in Barcelona falls mainly on the Passeig de Gracia
We have been in Barcelona one day and it is incredibly beautiful city filled with heavenly architecture and a nice calm sense of "if it doesn´t get done today, there is always tomorrow." The bakeshop windows are piled high with crossiants and doughnuts which taunt me at every turn and tempt me to break my gluten free diet just once, but an accidental ingestion of some croutons in soup in Dublin cured me of any notion of purposely eating wheat. I just tell myself they look and smell better than they taste. Argh.
Although it is raining today, Catalonia has been suffering from a drought of sorts and I am glad for them that the rain seems to be falling in steady streams. For someone who has traveled to so many places I fear I came ill prepared for all the walking and although I love my hi top converse they are proving less than worthy travel companions. My feet are unhappy, but still we trudge on. Perhaps a purchase of shoes or a handbag may cheer me up.
I heard yesterday that, unfortunately I was not given a place in the UNITE program in Chicago. I am disappointed, but more practical about things and figure all is for the best. I will find a job and build a life and figure it all out. At least I am moving to a new city, into a fabulous new apartment and get to spend everyday with my best friend, someone I have only seen for a week or two every three or four months. Niall is convinced Steph will kill me sooner rather than later for some cleaning related infraction. I am hoping not.
Am starting to miss everyone and sad that not more of you have written me. Its weird to write this because it feels as if it is just one big email to anyone who knows the address of this webpage, but in actuality there could be no one at all out there. Except Jen and Prue who I know have been reading, thanks and keep sending me news.
Tomorrow off to Tossa and a castle on the beach.
Adios!
Although it is raining today, Catalonia has been suffering from a drought of sorts and I am glad for them that the rain seems to be falling in steady streams. For someone who has traveled to so many places I fear I came ill prepared for all the walking and although I love my hi top converse they are proving less than worthy travel companions. My feet are unhappy, but still we trudge on. Perhaps a purchase of shoes or a handbag may cheer me up.
I heard yesterday that, unfortunately I was not given a place in the UNITE program in Chicago. I am disappointed, but more practical about things and figure all is for the best. I will find a job and build a life and figure it all out. At least I am moving to a new city, into a fabulous new apartment and get to spend everyday with my best friend, someone I have only seen for a week or two every three or four months. Niall is convinced Steph will kill me sooner rather than later for some cleaning related infraction. I am hoping not.
Am starting to miss everyone and sad that not more of you have written me. Its weird to write this because it feels as if it is just one big email to anyone who knows the address of this webpage, but in actuality there could be no one at all out there. Except Jen and Prue who I know have been reading, thanks and keep sending me news.
Tomorrow off to Tossa and a castle on the beach.
Adios!
Monday, April 14, 2008
Fellini, Father Ted and the French
Aran was spectacular, beautiful and so, so quiet. With few people and even fewer cars it is as far away from the hustle and bustle of Dublin as one can go. The people were lovely and our accomadations, right on the pier, afforded us a sea view every morning. Due to our missing the first train, catching the later one and almost missing the ferry, we only spent one full day on the island, but we made the most of it. We set off in the early morning (about 10 a.m.) and started walking towards Dun Angeus (sp?) an ancient half-ring fort on the top of mile-high cliffs on the edge of Inishmor. We bought a map and asked directions, but the both of us underestimated the actual length of the island. As it neared the second hour of walking (in my shotty converse no less) I realized my afternoon walks with Sara and Quickie were no match for the winding and rock strewn roads of Aran. The sun at our backs and a nice bluster in our faces Niall acted unfazed by our seemingly endless journey. After three hours I started to become concerned as niether our destination or an form of transport back to the b&B was apparent. I started to think I was hallucunating as the surroundings started to take on a more surreal feel.
First, there were the min-marathoners, who would walk/run by us one by one at first and then in twos and threes. Each one gave a poliet hi as we tried to figure out why some looked so destroyed and others were practically hoping around, we made jokes that we should get a certificate for finishing the race as well. Then a rather large man on an adult sized trike passed us, the wig he was wearing and the reddish hue of his wind-blown skin made him look clown like, he was speaking to some runners as we started to hear the swirl of bike wheels and whoosh, before we knew a steady stream of young children, 12 years-old or so, were whizzing past us, first 10 then 15, 20 30, 40, we lost count. We caught strange bits of conversations, french accents, I remember cows mooing in the background, there was the hub-bub of talk between the triking man and his running colleagues and Niall turned to me and said that he felt he was in an episode of Father Ted. Two seconds later he amended that to include a Fellini movie and I was left to ponder what exactly the film would be called.
First, there were the min-marathoners, who would walk/run by us one by one at first and then in twos and threes. Each one gave a poliet hi as we tried to figure out why some looked so destroyed and others were practically hoping around, we made jokes that we should get a certificate for finishing the race as well. Then a rather large man on an adult sized trike passed us, the wig he was wearing and the reddish hue of his wind-blown skin made him look clown like, he was speaking to some runners as we started to hear the swirl of bike wheels and whoosh, before we knew a steady stream of young children, 12 years-old or so, were whizzing past us, first 10 then 15, 20 30, 40, we lost count. We caught strange bits of conversations, french accents, I remember cows mooing in the background, there was the hub-bub of talk between the triking man and his running colleagues and Niall turned to me and said that he felt he was in an episode of Father Ted. Two seconds later he amended that to include a Fellini movie and I was left to ponder what exactly the film would be called.
traveling travails
Myself and Niall, who proved to be a less than suitable travel agent for our little island adventure, visited the Aran Islands, pop. 800, over the weekend. After missing the first train, I decided that we should see a movie to kill the 3 and half hours between then and the next. Lars and the Real Girl proved to be a very good film, moving and strange and midwestern...all things I think can, if blended with the right actors, make a pretty darn good film. Ryan Gosling I love you. But I digress. Niall was less than impressed, but seeing as the film did not center on oil, cigarettes or socialism I am not really suprised by his lack of interest. He is pretty much a three gear kinda guy. But no matter we finally got on the afternoon train and it was packed, I mean how many people were heading to the west for the weekend. I have never in my life seen an Irish train so full to bursting with people. But so it was and I quick found us a space in front of a closed door (which proved to open for every other stop along the way) and wedged myself to the floor to enjoy the lovely three and a half hour journey across the country.
Of course the trip was not without incident. There was the girl who threw up, the teenagers who wouldn't shut up, the bleeding guy across the way (when we finally got a seat half way through the trip) who kept looking in my general direction with his mouth hanging open. When we saw him on the return trip I took it as some sort of omen. but out return trip went off much better and now I am back in Dublin for two days rest before heading out to Barcelona.
Of course the trip was not without incident. There was the girl who threw up, the teenagers who wouldn't shut up, the bleeding guy across the way (when we finally got a seat half way through the trip) who kept looking in my general direction with his mouth hanging open. When we saw him on the return trip I took it as some sort of omen. but out return trip went off much better and now I am back in Dublin for two days rest before heading out to Barcelona.
Finally on terra verde
Well, I got here in one peice after my flight to Chicago was cancelled...caught up in the wave of AA cancellations sweeping the nation. It turned out that they just put me on the flight connecting through Boston instead and since that was the flight I really wanted to be on anyway I was probably the happiest person they had flying that day.
The whole trip so far has been kind of surreal. It is finally starting to sink in that I am not on some extended vacation and did actually leave my job with no safety net to move to a city I don't know very well...but Steph informed the other day that she was brave enough to wrangle the managment company into granting us permission to paint the very stark white walls of our living room to one of the existing colors in the apartment, so at least my life in Chicago will feel that much less like the newsroom.
The plane ride was interesting with a screening of National Treasure: Book of Secrets, which I really wanted to see anyway. Gafaw if you will but the first was a thrilling sort of adventure that kept me on the edge of my seat. With the sequel sort of leaning in the same direction, however, i.e. massive clue hunt which leads to a large underground room filled with ancient treasure, I was less gripped than with the first and more or less concerned with a greater mystery...how far does Nicholas Cages hairline go, at which point does he give up the tupee/hairplugs and just go full monty or with a wig. Deep questions people.
The whole trip so far has been kind of surreal. It is finally starting to sink in that I am not on some extended vacation and did actually leave my job with no safety net to move to a city I don't know very well...but Steph informed the other day that she was brave enough to wrangle the managment company into granting us permission to paint the very stark white walls of our living room to one of the existing colors in the apartment, so at least my life in Chicago will feel that much less like the newsroom.
The plane ride was interesting with a screening of National Treasure: Book of Secrets, which I really wanted to see anyway. Gafaw if you will but the first was a thrilling sort of adventure that kept me on the edge of my seat. With the sequel sort of leaning in the same direction, however, i.e. massive clue hunt which leads to a large underground room filled with ancient treasure, I was less gripped than with the first and more or less concerned with a greater mystery...how far does Nicholas Cages hairline go, at which point does he give up the tupee/hairplugs and just go full monty or with a wig. Deep questions people.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
welcome to my newest experiment
This feels weird...as if you can see into my brain, feel me speaking as if I am next to you. I am told I write like I speak and for anyone who cares, you can read this and see if that statement is true. Anyway, I have friends who have been doing this for years, but it hasn't felt right until now, when hopefully I have something to say, or at least something to share. Insights, thoughts on my travels, if you don't like those at least I hope to have a few cool pictures here and there. I hope that you'll check in every once in a while, since I am pretty bad at keeping up with email. welcome to the show...
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