final update

final email (#5) from 15 november 2004.  this is apparently when i gave up caps...interesting.

"hola...ciao...bonjour...howdy doody doo...it´s all the same to me at this point. city after city, they´re all the same. it´s time to head home! hey, what do you know? i leave for the Bay Area in 2.5 days, not that I´m counting the seconds. really!

so, where did I last leave off? (the rubber´s burning.) oh, I landed in Rome. yes, this is where things get REALLY interesting. so, we stayed with Omar for a week. (Thank you Omar!!! we had a fantastic time with you...and thank Wolfgang again.) At least that was our intention. Omar took us on a fantastic excursion to Umbria that weekend. It was definitely a scenic and cultural highlight of the trip. Classic Italy. we saw a number of small towns all built on hills. (i think this was due to protection from invading warriors back in the day, and trust me, those steep hills were effective.) Todi, Perugia (home of the famous Baci hazelnut chocolate), Assisi (and the tomb in the Basilica, where St. Francis´ body is buried), Spoleto, Gubbio, and...ahem...NORCIA. yes, well, as a vegetarian, all I can say is, what a gorgeous mountain town but plug your nose! (Omar and X will give you a different opinion, I am sure.) so, we walk into this place and the aromas start up immediately. stuffed boars and foxes and pigs everywhere...boar skins hanging in doorways...molded pig legs and sausages, hanging in doorways, ugh!...stinky as hell cheeses everywhere covered in dirt...and the BEST, culetto, which is truly the following (those of you with sensitive stomachs, ignore this description): pig BUTT meat stuffed in a pig bladder and hung in a basement, not refrigerated, for two years to mold and ferment and do whatever the hell it does. culetto is literally translated to "lovely little buttness," and the method of production is considered "unmodern" in America. go figure! well, this culetto stuff is a delicacy. once we left Nocia, no kidding, ask the guys, the aroma kept with us for hours. the scent particles attached themselves to our nose hairs. i have to stop talking about Norcia now because I am getting queasy. anyways, the weekend we went north to Umbria there were truffle festivals taking place. Truffles are fungi that grow in the ground at certain times of the year and little pigs go out and sniff for them. Once they start digging, a specially trained dog comes and scares the little piggies away, revealing a truffle (white or black), which is an extreme delicacy in Italy, a very expensive one, approx $200 per half pound. in fact, these things are so valuable, only 100,000 or so people are registered truffle finders. we got to sample truffles, that was something special. (turns out i am not a big fan.)

after Umbria, we hung out at Omar´s, literally sat on our bums for three days glued to the TV, watching the election. (i´m not even going there in this email.) in fact, i was so much in a daze about the whole thing, i screwed up our flight date and we missed our plane back to Spain! (thanks again, Omar.) so, we were "stuck" in Rome for 3 more days, which turned out to be pretty sweet. We got to attend a house party on some Roman island in the city (only two apartments on the whole island!) hosted by a famous artist, which was neat in principle. (fyi, Omar studied the guy in school, so he was really stoked to meet him...ironically he ended up in a heated argument with the guy by the end of the night over politics and now thinks he´s and asshole, ha!) interesting people, serious darts, way too much liquor, although i was good.  :)   needless to say, it was an interesting night, trying to maneuver through the city with two drunk boys in arm at 5am.

so, the night of our second flight came. i was paranoid about missing it, so we gave ourselves 5 hours to get to the airport. we got on the bus, which came 45 minutes late...then there was a traffic jam, the first we experienced in the city. (X says, when it can´t happen, it does!) all this took 1.5 hours or so. finally, we got to the metro. get this: X WAS PICKPOCKETED. a clan of gypsies stole his wallet. too many details to rehash, but I saw the wallet in midair and started yelling at the guy. I grabbed one of them and rummaged through his pockets, but 4 or 5 of them ran off the metro at the next stop. we ran out after them, but with our heavy packs, we didn´t stand a chance. no police in the area, so we hunted around for the station above ground. eventually, we ran out of time, so we got back on the metro and made it to the airport with literally 10 minutes to spare. X got onto the airplane with a photocopy of his passport. hmm...don´t you love RyanAir! we got back to Barcelona sans X´s passport, CA ID, credit cards, money, etc. Everything was gone.

This pickpocketing occurred on a Saturday night. The US consulate in Barcelona was closed until Monday, which was also the date of our cruise. (oh yeah, X and I booked a Mediterranean cruise to relax the last week of our trip.) amazingly, we walked into the consulate at 9:45am that Monday, and he had a new passport by 10:15, no kidding. UNFORTUNATELY, we made the cruise. let me explain. The cruise was great. We saw Nice, Civitavecchia (the Roman port, which was cool because it had surf), Naples (yes Foster, the drivers are nuts...i got clipped by side mirrors countless times, and the heel of X´s flipflop was run over by a car as he was crossing the street!), Malta and Tunisia. Before I continue with my reasons for hating the cruise, I´ll tell you about Tunisia. It was awesome. Totally third world, but truly hilarious. We get off the boat, and are immediately attacked by taxi drivers. These guys were seriously fighting with each other, hitting each other, trying to get closest to X and me for our business, yelling out prices. We were joined by a Portuguese couple, and the four of us joined forces for a better deal. We were sold by a guy who would take us all into Tunisia City for 10 euros total (we landed in La Goulette, a 10 minute drive from the city). We all pile into his car, and the price all of a sudden went up to 10 euros EACH! we started to get out, then it went down to 12 euros total...we just got out. Then, a policeman comes over and took the guy´s number off his car, and all the cars surrounding him. He´s like, in French, these guys aren´t registered drivers. holy cow! we head back to the "registered drivers" while the "unregistered" group chases us, yelling at us, and we get into another car. This new guy offered 10 euros total outside of the car, then it went up to 12 euros in the car, so we started to get out, and he dropped down to 10 euros. My god!!! the insanity. so we finally get into Tunisia, make our way to the medina. wow. This made Morocco seem tame. The medina was so crowded with people, one couldn´t walk through it. you just went with the flow, and maybe made your way into a store of interest. (of course, bargaining in the stores is a pain in the ass.) Claudia, our new Portuguese friend, and I got groped. Greeeeeeeat. Enough said.

After a couple of hours, the rain started. (yes, this is when it gets really interesting, so keep reading.) Tunisia essentially flooded in a matter of minutes. there were huge, deep puddles everywhere. we walked by a hotel...the front was flooded, water pouring into the lobby. I have to mention this is the first rain of the year. not the cleanest water! we run over to the train...we learned about the train while in the city, only 1 euro for 4 people to La Goulette, much better than a taxi. once back in la goulette, the rains had stopped, the sun broke, everything seemed to dry up, so we walked around a bit in that small town. made our way into a farmers market. yummy. a puddle of sewer rested in front of the veggie tables, and some guy walked through it barefoot.

now, let me explain. those rains passed quickly. Claudia mentioned a lightning storm in the Mediterranean, but there were no announcements on the boat about bad weather, no warning, etc. we´re like, it´s probably short-lived, nothing to worry about. ha! (ok, here goes my anti New Flamenco cruise spiel.) we get into our cabin and watch BBC World. the weather comes on. the entire Med sea is red. huh? the boat leaves the port. everything seems fine. it´s "elegant" night, so X and I dress up, grab some drinks, check out the show on board, eat dinner, head down for bed. we start watching BBC again, and it begins. The boat starts rocking like mad. every now and then, there´s a crash. this goes on and on and on...there is still no announcement by the captain. seriously people, it gets scary, and in fact, it gets so bad, i start freaking out. things are falling all over the boat. our stuff flies all over the cabin. i did not sleep a WINK all night. X was up all night telling me everything was ok. we head into the lounge at 4:30am to get a view of the waves, and it´s dark, so we don´t get a great view. (is that good or bad?) my stomach starts up with sea-sickness. around 7am, i get some sleep for a couple of hours or so when another crash wakes me up. it´s still going! i was ill at this point, totally freaked out (i was shaking for over 12 hours), tired as hell...still, no announcement! was our captain crazy? i thought i was, so we left the room wanting to see if everyone else was taking this lightly. yeah, as X said, it was like walking into "the walking dead." we barely made our way up the rocking stairway, just as some guy ran out of the dining room, vomit pouring out of him into his hands. (sorry for that description, but it is needed for effect.) the staircases were loaded with bags, and people were using them. the illness just creeped up on you out of nowhere, and oh boy, were those bags useful! the boat was actually empty. X thought I would feel better if we sat upstairs and watched the waves. not a good idea! i never want anything to do with the sea again after this experience. the swell was huge!!! 15 feet lines coming right at us, slamming into the boat, which really wasn´t that big! (no stabilizers on the thing, it´s so old...really, the ghetto cruise!) turns out we were in the middle of a Force 10 storm. that is touching the edge of a hurricane, folks. we come to find out that 1) we weren´t supposed to leave Tunisia that night in the first place because of the storm, yet we did, and 2) a typhoon missed our boat at la goulette by a few feet...it passed right in front of our boat, tore apart a neighboring boats tie-line to the dock, and prevented another boat from docking. we finally got the announcement. the captain was changing course, and he told us to have a safe trip! huh? isn´t that, like, HIS responsibility?!!! everyone on the boat is sick, freaked out. the lounge turned into an infirmery. the entertainment show was cancelled. We heard a couple older gals paid the doctor 100 euros each to go into their room and give them sedative shots after the doors ripped off their closet. Insane...insane...insane. The storm subsided after 36 hours. I vow never to go on a cruise again. I hate the sea. I will never surf again. I hate that captain. X  and I were looking at some pictures of the crew before getting off the boat, finally (8 hours behind schedule), and a picture of the captain was there. A guy walked by and commented, "cabron." yeah, that´s not a nice thing to say about someone. the funny thing was, people are supposed to leave a cruise relaxed. all the passengers walked out looking tired, pissed, haggard...the passengers waiting for the next voyage were like, what the hell happened? oh, if only they knew! the cruise from HELL!!!!!!!!!! really though, up until the storm, it was a good time. We met some great people (couldn´t meet too many peeps...we were on a Spanish-speaking cruise, after all!), including a guy our age who threw away his college degree to sing on cruise ships. We saw a few new cities. Got daily showers and lots of sleep. Spent so much time reading, I got through 4 books. Oh yes, X got food poisoning from the lasagna. That wasn´t such a great time!

so yeah, that cruise was my "relaxing" portion of the trip. we´re in barcelona now. we did the tourist thing before the cruise, saw Park Guell, the church of Sagrada Familia, the cathedral, the rambla, etc. This city is sweet. I saw a Starbucks here, actually went in to get a coffee. I threw it in the trash it was so bad compared to the coffee I´ve been drinking for two months now. anyways, we just bought train tickets back to Madrid to catch our flight out in two days. that´s right. it´s already been two months. I´m coming home...not soon enough!!! (although the way this trip has gone, I am really worried about my flight.)

signing out.

gg"

cleanliness is godliness

email #4 from 29 october 2004:

"Hi all,
No chicken tales this time, sorry. Things have cleaned up a bit for X and me...somewhat, despite the continuous trails of dogpile on the sidewalks around here. (It's amazing, really.) After leaving that 4-star hotel (and German MTV featuring episode after episode of "Pimp My Ride"), we made off for El Campello, only 20km or so north of Alicante. We camped there for 4 nights, mainly because the price was right, but also because it was actually comfortable! Well, comfortable if you're used to rocks in the back all night, but X and I are at this point. Included in the price of a mere 9 euros at Camping Costa Blanca is a hot shower. Good enough! It turned out to be a humorous place. It was packed with older folk from all over Europe. They end up staying there for weeks or months at a time, and just sit around and drink wine all day, with a few breaks for riding their cruiser bicycles (those which haven't been pinched) and sunbathing sans swimming suit at the pool. It was a good time there, though. We met some really cool people, got to check out the Costa Blanca a bit more. The area is super fancy. Development is rampant, probably because of the Brits. One of the train stops on the way to El Campello is literally called "Condominia"!
We ended up spending a bit of time walking around town, when it wasn't raining. (We survived the first Costa Blanca rainstorm since February.) Lots of British influence, which was great since we didn't have to speak Spanish. X got his hamburger for two days in a row from a pub. Something I didn't understand was the number of prescription optical stores in the area. It was like Starbucks in Seattle...can't walk a few hundred feet without running into one. Do El Campello residents have bad eyesight? Is there a problem with the water? a shortage of carrots?
Note: Despite the "comforts" of El Campello, I can't say I am a fan of the tent any longer. While at the farm in Totana, I started to see it as a second home. Well, my only home at this point...but it was essentially nothing more than a bug/dirt barrier, which seemed fabulous at that time; but after El Campello, I can't stand the thing anymore. I am done pitching that tent for a year or so. Therefore, please do not send camping invites my way until Summer 2006.
After camping, we made our way up to Valencia. It's a huge town, but probably less touristy that Alicante (unless you're a serious shopper). We got in ~1pm and walked around looking for a hostal. We scored in the middle of downtown, which at first seemed great, until we actually wanted to get some sleep. Way, waaaaaay noisy. Fortunately, there was a "doner kebap" joint close to us. This place made falafel, gyros, etc. X was addicted because they made FLAT falafel, which he claims are easier to eat than the typical falafel balls. (Those of you who are familiar with X's antics/quirks may find humor in this.) He went everyday, sometimes twice. We were also close to Pans & Co., which became my favorite stop. They serve you a cafe con leche in a to-go cup, and it's bigger than your average Euro coffee. Well, I appreciated this place until I learned to defeat the general system. I have resorted to buying two cafes con leche, then pouring them into my travel mug, which allows me to tote my caffeine intake on the trains, in my room, anywhere I want. Fantastic simple pleasures!
Now, I hinted that Valencia is a great place to shop. X and I are, get this, going on a Mediterranean cruise in 1.5 weeks or so (long story), and there are a couple of super fancy dinners on board. Given that we thought New Zealand was our destination (i.e. backpacking, farming...living like animals in the woods), we didn't think to bring clothing appropriate for Spain, let alone "glamorous" dinners. We therefore have have to do a bit of shopping. Valencia seemed like a good place to start. What an experience! We ventured into a store called Stradivarius. The place was insane. Shoppers were like animals, grabbing clothing off hangers, throwing things onto the floor, yelling at fellow shoppers...the store looked like a warzone. We left. Next, we tried Zara, which had more formal clothing and really good prices. Even worse! I was looking at a pair of black pants, and this young girl came at the rack from the other side. She started to rifle through the same few hangers I was investigating, and then started to pull on the exact hanger I had my hands on. I pulled back a bit, thinking this was a mistake on her part and she'd let go. Oh no! She pulled back, I pulled harder, she pulled harder...the girl wouldn't even look at me. She was dazed, possessed! I let go and moved on. I eventually found something and went to the checkout line. It was slow moving because the gal at front was trying on a pair of shoes. Isn't this supposed to be done beforehand? Regardless, everyone in line was patient, like this was expected. Anyways, we also ventured through El Cortes Ingles (the superstore in Spain, with like 2-3 stores in each city w/in a couple blocks of each other), and a few other stores. They were all insane...I swear, at least 5x worse than Xmas shopping in America.
After 3 nights, we traveled up to Barcelona for a few hours to pick up our cruise tickets (we're in new territory now...they all speak Catalan!), then immediately hopped a train to Girona. We spent the night at the Girona Airport. There were about 20+ other "sleepers" in the place, so it seemed safe and acceptable enough. Luckily, the chairs had no armrests, which is key. We caught our flight to Rome the next morning on Ryanair (a whole other story), and tada! We're here staying with our dear friend, Omar. Yesterday we spent the day with John and Carolyn, who are in Rome for a wedding. We saw some sights, ate some really good food, and watched some TV in their accommodations for a while (Italian MTV!!!). We get to see them again today. X and I are leaving town this weekend with Omar and heading out to the Italian countryside, a means of escaping the Roman public transportation system which is so, so crowded...major headache.
That's all for now.
gg"

update

email #3, dated 18 october 2004:

"Hi everyone,

Here is another quick update on things. We are now in Alicante, moving up the eastern coast of Spain. VERY nice place along el Costa Blanco. Lots of British money out here. Very Mediterranean with white sand and palm trees, big marinas with even bigger yachts. Things seem slow here. Even the fish swim more slowly, really. I highly recommend this place for a visit...or maybe it just seems so wonderful after leaving the farm? That is the problem with this trip. My impressions are affected in most situations...they are not pure feelings because I have encountered so many ups and downs during the last few weeks. Is this the way to travel?

After living for a week on the farm, both X and I were absolutely filthy (although I had a bigger problem with it). I cannot go into details or you would think I was so disgusting for putting up with such conditions that you´d never speak to me again. Let´s just say, "I was miserable." However, we did learn a bit about farming (i.e. weeding interdependence with lunar cycles, composting, sowing, conejo hunting, natural horsemanship, etc.), and I got to eat some of the best food ever. Holy cow, Siri could cook! I took notes, so I will attempt to cook up some stuff for you all when I get back. Also, our host family was incredibly nice. Our Spanish improved a bit since that was their preferred language. Because we got so dirty, and our backs were so sore from sleeping in a tent for a week (no thermarests, just lots of rocks and apparently spiders that built webs underneath my tent footprint, yuck!), we checked into a 4-star hotel in Alicante yesterday just to be sure we had clean sheets, a hot shower, and NO BUGS. (I slept for 12 hours.) Once again, I will spare you the details of just how dirty and disgusting I personally got, but after my bath in the hotel (quite possibly the most comfortable, refreshing moment in my life thus far), I left behind a thick, slimy ring of brown crap along the edges. I was so grossed out. I think I hit a low last week, cleanliness wise. I can´t stop thinking about it...I truly dreamt about being chased my bugs two nights ago. I actually developed a small case of dandruff in literally 7 days. It´s gone now, as are the fleas.   :)    I also got a cold. I think I am now officially a¨"priss" from America, and I love that I am what I am. God bless consistent hot showers!!! GOD BLESS AMERICA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Despite my horrors in the tent, we are attempting to find a place to camp for a few days before moving onto Barcelona. Can´t wait. I hear that city is amazing.

That is all for now. I miss you. Will write soon...

gg"

greetings from Granada!

email #2, from 9 october 2004...

"Hola,

We´re now in Granada. This town is AWESOME. Not sure if it´s this way because I just got out of Morocco (very different way of like...one needs a few weeks to adapt to the culture and feel comfortable), but regardless, it´s beautiful here. We´re tucked away in the Sierra Nevadas, but no snow is here yet. Supposedly there´ll be good skiing soon. Lots of hippies, hookah bars, tea cafes, and incense in one area of town...the other sells Burberry (yes, Julia! we thought of you) and the euro-fashion trends, like tight sneakers, shoulderless shirts, and j.lo sunglasses. Meanwhile, they have X and me trekking around, not really fitting into any style, just constantly asking, "Donde esta la lavanderia?" in very poor Spanish. We really need to do laundry right now (I´ve gone four days in the same outfit), and of course we find one and it´s closed due to a holiday we were totally unaware of...and still are. (Supposedly these peeps get countless 4-day weekends every year for so-called fiesta celebrations, and these Spaniards celebrate EVERYTHING, no joke).

Anyways, back to Morocco. We visited Chefchaouen for a couple days, literally raced through Rabat, and spent another couple days in Asilah. Like I said, very different. VERY cheap, however, so we came across multiple backpackers who were there simply because they wanted to continue their travels but were short on cash. 10 dirham (DH) = 1€ = 1.28 USD (as of yesterday), and we were getting accommodations in Morroco for 120 DH, meals for 25 DH, cafe for 5 DH...unreal. We did pay a price for cheap accommodation, however, by spending two nights in a room that is little better than a jail cell. I won´t go into details or you all will really think I am a dirty person for staying there, but from Morroco forward, any accommodation we get is going to be like a 5-star resort...or at least 4-stars. I guess my main complaint about Morocco was the way kids were living. We ventured into towns, which were TOTAL chaos, and you´d see slums like nothing you can imagine, and kids are playing with sticks, running around barefoot, and eating with their hands. Their immune systems must be tough as nails, considering the septic systems in these towns are so poor. Note: Don´t step in the water flowing down the streets! Otherwise, there was a bit of humor to be found in these places. People bought live chickens, which had their feet tied to prevent escape. Our last bus ride in Morocco, the baggage compartment flies open, and our bags are thrown on top of a chicken. My jaw dropped, X started snapping pictures like a madman, smiling like a joker. The locals got a kick our of our reaction to the whole incident. I wasn´t too happy when my jacket was retrieved at the end of the ride stinking something putrid, and was wet. YUCK! I don´t have a jacket at the moment as a result because we can´t find a darn lavaderia in Spain!!! Enough on Morocco...oh wait, both X and I did get upset stomachs there. I haven´t quite recovered, still feeling a bit of nausea.

Tomorrow we leave Granada for Murcia. We have a WWOOF gig in that town with a family, and supposedly we sleep in tipis. I hope we stay for a couple of weeks because traveling is starting to wear on me, looking for a place to sleep every night, etc. I want to throw my backpack somewhere and stay for a while, get regular meals and such. Speaking of, it is very difficult to survive as a vegetarian in Spain. Everyone likes to put jamon (ham) on everything, so basically I am surviving on tortillas (in Spain, they´re like potato omelettes, not like those in Mexico), queso bocadillos (cheese sandwiches), and cafe solo...er, black coffee...but Spain has really, really good coffee, although I can´t wait to go home and have my 12 ounce mug filled to the brim with Peet´s. Nobody in Spain will fill my mug. Mui grande, they say!!!

I hope you all are doing really well, and I miss you.

I will write more later...

gg

p.s. We just bought tickets to Rome for a week (for 40€ each, not kidding), so we get to see Omar and spend a few days with Carolyn and Foster. Can´t wait!!! After that, I think we´re heading into southwestern France, i.e. Biarritz, for the rest of our trip, heading home 11/18.

p.s.s. I just sent in my first batch of pictures to Snapfish, so hopefully they´ll be online soon. Will let you know."

spanglar spain

i recently came across five emails i sent out circa 2004 describing my two months spent in Spain (with an X...who became an X after the trip. good times.).  i am going to post them on this site, a little late, so i am sure not to lose them...and you may find them enjoyable.  that and i have failed to post on other trips i have recently taken, although what happens on the island should stay on the island.  AFY!!!  (if you don't know, don't ask.)

email #1, sent to 49 unlucky individuals on 1 october 2004, and yes, i used to type with capital letters:

" Hola,

Wish I could write individual emails, but that would be really expensive. Lesson #1: NEVER take for granted your home internet connection. Lesson #2: Never take for granted electricity, especially electricity in the bathroom. After spending 3 days in Madrid (nice, but seriously, another international city), X and I headed to Cadiz, a sweet little beach town in southern Spain. We stayed in a youth hostel (a personal lesson for me there...I´m getting too old to do that) and were told to throw our sleeping bags on the terrace for the night, i.e. the roof. Then we headed for Tarifa, on the VERY southern tip of Spain, the windsurf capital of the world. We joined up with our first WWOOF hosts, a couple of Brit hippies who have a pot patch that is bigger than my grandparents´ home...and I think they smoke that much in a day. Of course, it´s legal in Spain. They live on a farm like it´s 200 years ago. All light is candlelight, no electricity, no toilet paper in the toilets, etc. X, Marian (our Aussie co-WWOOFer, and I slept in caravans out front), all decorated in crazy Moroccan flavors...but then, Morocco is only 35min across the strait from Tarifa, so not so exotic in those parts. Additionally, these Brits would bring groceries home from Gibraltar? They have a big fat rooster (X was in heaven, lots of pictures), too many chickens to count, 4 cats, 3 dogs, 2 horses, a donkey...I think that´s it? We got to build a rock wall, clear farm land of weeds (ha, Carolyn, ironic eh?!), paint the guest house (they rent it out...sorta a b&b thing), feed the chickens, bundle sticks for kindling, etc. Seriously, we were working on a farm. I´ve never eaten so much. I learned lots, especially how to shower in cold water. Their water is warmed by the sun, and I had to finish work before the sun went down or BRRRRRRRR! I usually failed because we were all taking advantage of the siesta. YES, the siesta still exists. All the shops close 2-6pm or so. It is very inconvenient, at least until you get used to it.

Oh yes, communications. X and I are getting pretty good at Spanish. Nobody here speaks English.

Not sure what else to say, so much has happened, and my time on the computer is running out so I gotta jet.

We leave the farm in 2 days and head for Morocco...Africa! Well, not really Africa-Africa, but it´s the same continent and it should be just as frantic.  

Will write more soon.

gg"