Guatemala!

I am SO excited! I am going to Guatemala for spring break. We're doing a family-homestay language immersion thing for the first part of the week and then we're going to the jungle to see the Mayan ruins at Tikal.

I'm thrilled that I have an international trip to look forward to, especially since I had planned on doing the international program through school but recently decided against it. (They did not have the kind of thing I was looking for and it was not worth the cost, given that.)

To help pay for this trip, I recently got a job as a Research Assistant working with infectious diseases. And I LOVE infectious diseases.

YAY for my job and YAY for my travel plans.

Spain Photos: Part 2

Here are a few more pictures from Spain (my April trip...I know, I know. This is very late. I blame life).

In case you are interested, Part 1 photos were posted here. I'll post some Maine ones when I'm done with Spain and the cross country trip.

A village in the Picos de Europa where we stopped for lunch.

Just something pretty we saw on the side of the road.


A village in the Picos de Europa



At/around our parador in Congas de Onis (the next three pictures).



A local cat chilling in the Northern Spain sunshine.

The Maine Event

I got back from Maine late Thursday night, and I think it is one of my favorite places in the world. I had a fantastic time and I’ve been obsessed with thoughts of moving there since. Maine is all ocean air, blue skies, pine trees, wild flowers, seashells, butterflies, and lighthouses. There are countless quiet bays and peninsulas to explore. Wild blueberries grow everywhere, so the small back roads are lined with families selling just picked berries. I had one of the best scones of my life (blueberry) from a little coffee shop in town. The seafood, of course, is spectacular as well, and everyone I met was nice. Though I was traveling alone I never once felt lonely. Everywhere I went I met someone who wanted to chat about where I was from, where I was going, and what I had seen. I found the neighborhood I want my parents to retire to, and I found an island I’d like to live on.

Monhegan Island is a 90 minute boat-ride out to sea. It is a small fishing island/art colony with 200 summer and 60 year-round residents. There are no roads on the island and they’re very strict about bringing in things to modernize it. In the little port city, every home is also an artist studio, where paintings and photography and all kinds of crafts are displayed.

I took a hike through a forest out to the eastern-facing cliffs. At 160 feet high they are the highest anywhere on the coast of Maine. It was stunning. I ate lunch while sitting on these cliffs, then wandered my way down to a beach that was covered in seashells. I collected some then accidentally wandered into a field of wild flowers where huge butterflies were floating around on the ocean breezes. Then I hiked up to the lighthouse which had gorgeous views of the island, its port, and a small island across a little bay. Then I walked back into the city, bought some fresh pink lemonade and sat on an Adirondack chair overlooking it all. See? It was all kind of like heaven.

My hotel was a cute, small inn up the road from the harbor. Since I was traveling alone and didn’t have much money to spend on one of the countless gorgeous B&B’s, I stayed in something more modest. It was great though. My room was actually a little cottage with a private deck in back. The deck faced West onto a meadow. At night I sat outside while the sun set and read my book. When the sun went down there were fireflies all over the place. When I went to bed all I heard were crickets.

On my drive out of Maine, I bought some fresh blueberries, had some homemade blueberry ice cream from a little road-side stand run by a kind older woman. I drove through some of Maine’s southern beaches hitting up a few more lighthouses. When it was time to go, it was very hard to cross back in to Massachusetts.

I am itching to go through my photos and post some here. I hope to do so soon, maybe tonight or tomorrow.

To the North!

I have exciting news. I have planned a trip to Maine! I have reservations at a little B&B/Inn in Boothbay! There are a couple of lighthouses to visit, much coastline to explore and a few islands near by to visit by boat. I am heading up on Monday the 13th. I have reservations for two nights in Boothbay but I want to try and get up closer to Maine on Monday evening (it's about a 9 hour drive from Baltimore). I may stay at a friend's in CT on that night, or I may just do a small Holiday Inn off of the highway sort of thing somewhere mid-way (if my friend isn't in town).

Since no one could really go with me, I decided to go alone. Actually, I probably could have found someone from school to go with, but I want to spend a lot of time exploring and taking pictures. I never feel 100% comfortable taking as many pictures as I want when I'm with someone else. I feel like it gets in the way of what they want to do. So I'm actually looking forward to seeing a place I've always wanted to, AND not feeling like I'm making anyone else bored.

Additionally, this semester has been a significant time for me. So much change and so much progress...my head is kind of reeling from it all. This trip sort of feels like a reward and a retreat. And even though it's going to be cheap (traveling solo means no nice meals out!), I am justifying it as a you-survived-your-first-semester-AND-you're-turning-29 gift. So happy birthday to me!

P.S. Thanks to Nikki of Frogblog for the original advice on Boothbay. Thanks Eva for confirmation that Boothbay is a good place to go.

P.S.S. BEFORE I can play with any photos I take for my Maine trip, I MUST finish going through my pix from Spain and from my cross country adventure. You are all my witnesses and you must hold me accountable for this. If I should fail in this goal you are all free to kick me in the shin.

Maine, anyone?

Does anyone want to go explore the coast of Maine with me? I am off from school and on the east coast from August 10th through the 22nd. It's a 12 hour drive from Baltimore, so I was thinking of breaking that up with a stop over somewhere in between. I wasn't wanting to be gone more than 4-5 days, and the trip needs to be VERY cheap! I am considering even going back to my early travel days and hostel-ing it (if Hotwire doesn't provide a better option).

I know most of you are on the west coast and don't have tons of extra vacation time and vacation money lying around, but I thought I'd put it out there. In case you do.

Observations

So I keep putting off writing in here. It’s not that I don’t have the time—I have stuff going on but very little structure to my days. I could easily find time to write in here if I wanted to. It’s not that I don’t have the material. Actually, it’s quite the opposite. I have TOO much I want to say. And I think maybe that might be the very problem. I have too much to say, and it makes me feel overwhelmed. And then this blog becomes a big chore. I think there’s just so much “new” in my life right now that it is exhausting to write about it. Sometimes, I don’t even want to talk about it. It’s too much work to have to re-tell the stuff worth telling. But maybe I’m just feeling all this because of all the changes my life has gone through recently. Everything around me is new and nothing is easy (because it’s all new). I think that is more exhausting than I think.

But now, in writing even the above paragraph, I’m in “writing mode” and feel like saying more. So here goes…

Here are some observations on life my in Baltimore so far:

• The roads here are in the worse shape ever. There are bumps and potholes and ditches and dips everywhere. I am certain my car will need new shocks soon.
• Steam comes out of the manholes here. I’ve never seen that before except as dramatic context in dark, thriller, murder-mystery films. I’m sure it has something to do with the inner workings of the city and perhaps temperature/humidity, but maybe Baltimore is full of mystery.
• I saw a sign on a bus today that promoted marriage. Seriously. It said something to the effect of “Marriage is good and it costs less then being single.”
• I have seen several signs talking about how “virgin” isn’t a bad word. I think it is good to teach young teens to abstain until they’re older (or smarter), but I think it’s funny that someone is spending a lot of money on billboards like this. This billboard, along with the “pro-marriage” one, makes me wonder what kinds of things the Maryland teens are up to these days…
• Baltimore is not a very bike-friendly city. This CA girl will not be riding her beach cruiser on the streets of B’more any time soon. Fortunately, there are many parks and forests and shorefront places to ride. And since MD experiences a real winter, summer is like a constant party. Everyone wants to be outside doing stuff in the sun. It’s sweet.
• The pool on the roof of my apartment opens this weekend. I was shocked to find that out because it never occurred to me that it would be closed. Sure, I didn’t expect people to use it in the winter, but the idea of closing a pool? Well…I guess those thoughts just make it obvious that I come from a warmer place. I still chuckle when I see signs in all the elevators announcing the big opening day. With the 85 degree weather and 60% humidity we’ve experienced since my arrival here, that pool should have opened already!
• Having a whole apartment to oneself is interesting. Now I pretty much only use my room to sleep in. All other living is done elsewhere.

Here are some observations about other states from the cross country journey:

• You know how our weather is sometimes broken into the temperature in the morning and at night? Sometimes we even have a mid-day high/low forecast? Well in Texas they break it down by meal. So the temperatures are given for Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner.
• BBQ is a very important thing to many states. And each once claims that its BBQ is different (and better) than the other types out there. But you know what? It’s all kind of the same. It’s all about meat that is cooked in some kind of tomato-based sauce. It’s all good, but it’s not all that different.
• The trucking community is one that I never wish to be a part of. It is, however, a good sub-culture to find a husband in. Not necessarily a good husband, but if you want a man, any trucking gas station off highway 40 is the place to go. Especially if they have a country buffet restaurant attached. You can eat some fried chicken and cheesy grits there, but then take the dessert to go.
• New Orleans is very seedy. Or at least Bourbon Street is. It’s like a Frat Party mixed with Tijuana bars geared towards 18 years olds who only want to drink anything that is sweet, frozen, and blended. The rest of the French Quarter is lovely and full of charm. The area around the French Quarter is still riddled with Katrina-related devastation. That part was sad.

Okay…see? One little paragraph above led to all this. I was tricked into writing!!!!

More Pictures from Spain

Some of my favorite pictures from Spain are now posted here.

I've only gone through about 1/3 of the photos so I'm sure more favorites will come.

When everything is done, I'll upload all of them to a Kodak Gallery to share.

Sand and Snow

Spain, the Miniseries part 9

During one of our days on the trip, we spent the morning exploring sunny beaches. We were dressed in tank tops, skirts, and sandals. After exploring the coast we headed inland to drive through a long, steep and winding gorge in the Picos de Europa National park. We planned to take a gondola ride up 6000’ to the top. What we didn’t plan on was snow. We were shocked to see snow at the base and even more surprised to see that the top was covered in thick white powder! We had jackets, but our bare feet were not prepared. It was funny...until my big toes started to lose feeling.

Museum Mondays and France

Spain, the Miniseries part 8

When planning the trip, I forgot that many museums aren’t open on Monday. This included Bilboa’s Guggenheim. We definitely wanted to see the museum, but when we couldn't it was okay for three reasons: 1) The main attraction of this museum is the building itself, and while the inside was closed, the outside was there ready for us to see. It really is stunning and I’m so glad we went. 2) Because the museum was closed the town was so much easier to drive through and park in, and the area around the building was very empty. It made everything more enjoyable. 3) Because we weren’t going to the museum, we had time to do something else with our day. So instead, we went to France!

I have been to France several times and have always enjoyed it. But driving over the border on this trip for a quick, bonus visit made me realize how much I truly do love it. And, in a sense, I miss it. I love the language, I love the culture, I even love the Parisians. I was pleased about how much of the language I still remember, and how quickly my mind switches to saying things in French. (It was actually hard in Spain not to default to French during difficult communication times!)

So yeah, I loved being en France again. I don’t mean to sound overly dramatic, but the sun seemed to shine brighter on the French side of the border. I felt at home and I wanted to just keep driving in further.

I have heard people from all over the world rave about Spain. Many people I know talk about how fabulous the Spanish culture and lifestyle are. I get it. I really do. I like the small meals, the siesta schedules, the outlook on life, the colorful music. I feel even more strongly about all that after this past trip. But those couple of hours spent exploring the French coast and St Jean de Luz made me understand how much I adore France. The French culture resonates with me more.

Tastes Just Like....Pulvo

Spain, the Miniseries part 7

Towards the end of the trip we decided to hop over to Portugal for dinner one night. The town was a sleepy one and without a guide book, suggestions from locals, or knowledge of the Portuguese language, it was challenging finding a place to eat. When we finally did we had no idea what was on the menu. We used KA’s Spanish and my French to figure out a few items, and ended up ordering a couple of pulvo dishes. “Chicken” in Spanish is pollo and it's poulet in French. Thus it could follow that “chicken” in Portuguese, another Latin-based romance language bordering the Mediterranean, might be something like pulvo. Well it turns out that pulvo actually meant octopus. Octopus covered in slimy purple skin and tentacles. One of the pulvo dishes was gross (according to KA, as I wouldn’t eat it). The other one wasn’t so bad (after KA told me it was safe to eat). Yes, that meal was definitely something of a dining adventure.

The Western Edge

Spain, the Miniseries part 6

For most of my life I’ve lived on the west coast of the US. The year I lived in England, I was in the North West, about a half hour from the coast. My favorite place in Ireland is the coast around Galway, near the Cliffs of Moher. It happens to be on the western edge of the island. I adore Baja California (on the west) and loved exploring the Italian Rivera (also on the west). Prior to coming to Spain, I knew I had a weakness for the western edges of things. Our visit to Spain, and specifically Galicia, was another example of this. There’s something about the western edge of things that I like. It could be because of the whole “frontier” philosophy associated with this direction. Maybe some of the ideology that paired exploration and adventure with all things “west” is passed along in genetic memory, and exists somewhere in my psyche. But I don’t think that’s why. I think it has to do more with the sun. When I am on on east coasts, it seems wrong that the sky over the water is dark as the day ends. It feels better to bid the day adieu as bright orangey light sinks into water.

Whatever the reason, western edges are my favorite. Maybe that is why I loved the Galicia region of Spain best.

Maybe my opinion on East Coasts will change when I move to the MD at the end of the week!

Boo!

Spain, the Miniseries part 5

I don’t know how I feel about ghosts, but we were in two distinct places on this trip that felt haunted. One night we stayed in a Medieval castle in a town that was still walled-in and cobblestone. The town was in the middle of the country and no cars could drive through the center (to protect the cobblestones). The whole thing felt like a flashback to middle age living. Our castle/hotel had thick stone walls, high open-beamed ceilings, large windows with big swinging wooden shutters, and creaky wooden floors. Our room was on the top floor at the end of a long hallway. The castle/hotel was quiet and the town was completely silent at night. Everything felt really empty. I couldn’t help but think about all the people, lives and events that had passed through those walls prior to us being there. I don’t know if ghosts were there per se, but the place felt haunted by history. And with the quiet isolation and the creaky wood, both KA and I were too afraid to get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. It didn’t help that I was reading a book about vmpires in Europe at the time. I went to sleep after KA, and I was too afraid to turn off the TV. I watched the Spanish version of what I think was Dancing with the Stars until I felt distanced enough from any lingering haunting feelings.

A couple of days later, we took a steep, desolate, pin-turn winding drive up over a mountain to visit a small village. Santo Andres de Teixido is nestled into rugged, green cliffs on the north-west corner of the European continent. There was a church there that had been involved in pilgrimages for many years. Prior to that, it had been a Celtic village and our guide book told of some interesting traditions involving potions, an annual orgy and beliefs about reincarnation into reptiles. The place felt desolate, old and steeped in history. The old people who lived there gave us dirty looks as we drove in. The church was dark and empty, and it felt scary. So much that KA and I didn’t even want to walk in. We didn’t feel comfortable in the village in general, and we left as soon as we snapped a couple of pictures and figured out how to get out there (there was a little issue with the map...)

(This picture doesn't necessarily have to do with either of the haunted places, but it is a scary gargoyle.)

Tapas y Vino

Spain, the Miniseries part 4

Spanish food, in general, seemed a little bland to me; bland in the sense that there wasn't a lot of seasoning and bland in the sense that it was a lot of the same thing all the time. They really love seafood and ham. I mean REALLY love it. They love ham so much, in fact, that there is a chain of stores called Museo de Jamon (Museum of Ham) where they sell various types of ham butcher-style, along with wine and beer to encourage good spirits and a jovial atmostphere while shopping. Everyone Museo de Jamon we passed was super crowded. By the end of the trip we were craving any other kind of food and inhaled burritos and Chinese during our layover on the way home.

The Spanish don’t really eat breakfast, as we know it. When they eat out they consume most of their meals in these café-bar concoctions that sell coffee, fresh squeezed OJ, liquor, beer, strange meat dishes, churros and the occasional sandwich from a bar. The Spanish eat small amounts all day and the “tapas” type meal is a very big part of the routine. It took awhile for KA and I to get into the pattern, to know what to order, when to order it, and where to get it. In the end we got our Spanish food-groove on and had our favorite dishes. For breakfast we ordered tostas (toast), zumo de naranja natural (fresh OJ) and café con leche (the nectar of the gods, in my opinion). For lunch we’d usually get bocadillos (sandwiches) or tortillas.

[Spainish tortillas are round, thick potato omelet things that are sliced into quiche-sized pieces. When we order we’d say, “Dos tortillas, por favor.” Then the server would look at us blankly. So we would say “tortillas” again, emphasizing a more Spanish style accent. And finally they would get what we were saying, and say “Ah…..tor-TIL-las!” We never thought we said it much differently than they did, but what do we know?]

Dinner was usually more adventurous but generally more of the same kind of thing (ham, seafood, tapas). One night I ordered vegetarian pasta at a touristy restaurant. The menu and the waiter confirmed that the dish had “no carne!” I ended up with a bowl of penne and shrimp floating in salt water. Yum.

Another thing to add about the Spanish dining experience: Tapas bars were kind of intimidating. People generally stand around near the bar, yelling what they want and throwing their trash on the floor. It’s hard to get space and hard to get attention from the servers. When you do get their attention, it’s scary to try and order something correctly with the limited time they give you. We were better about them in the end, but it took several days before we were brave enough to go in there and order with some authority.

While we got a bit tired of the some Spanish food, there are some really good things about their cuisine and the way they eat. I already mentioned we like tortillas. The café con leches are fantastic (the best one ever was in Bilbao). The availability of fresh OJ EVERYWHERE is something I could get used to. Seriously—every bar/café thing had a juicer and a big bowl of oranges next to it. They squeezed it when you ordered, and I made sure to drink the zumo every day. The arroz con leche (rice pudding) was great when we could find it. Same thing with paella. We went to a restaurant known for its paella on the last night and it was fantastic. I really liked the idea of eating small meals throughout the day. It’s good for the metabolism and it meant I rarely felt stuffed the way I do after an American meal out.

Another great thing about Spanish dining and food? The vino. Spanish wine is fan-freakin’-tastic. I never had a bad glass, even when it was just the house vino tinto (red wine). We tasted and bought a few bottles from an adorably passionate Galician man. He kept stumbling on his English and apologizing with the kind of drama I typically attribute to Italians. Spain is the third largest exporter of wine in the world, and according to the passionate Galician wine seller, Spanish wine is sold mature and ready to drink. Unlike French wine it doesn’t necessarily need to be stored prior to drinking. Others have since contested this idea saying that storage times depend on the bottle and grape, but I like the idea of it being ready for consumption right away. It seems appropriate, culturally, that Spanish wine is ready immediately while French wine needs to sit and wait awhile.

Baile, Baile!

Spain, the Miniseries, part 3

We went out only a few nights during the trip. Most nights we were either too tired or were in towns too small for a night scene. When we did go out, we had fun meeting some of the locals and hearing some of the music. The Spanish really seem to love to dance. When a good song came on, the whole bar would move with it. Like most European countries they play a wide variety of their own music and those of other places including songs from the US. We heard a lot of Shania Twain, Avril Lavigne and Mika’s Grace Kelly. We discovered a Spanish Pop song we loved (Siete Horas, by Bebe) and even tried to find out who sang it. That meant singing the few lines we knew to a couple of different bewildered music store clerks. We met an adorable drunk Spanish girl one night who went up to us in the taxi queue and said, “Chicas! Te ke te ke te ke te ke!” When I yelled back to her, “Baile, baile!” she started to dance, and then I started to dance. It was funny and fun.

Pilgrims, Pilgrims

This is the next installment of Spain, the Miniseries.

I haven’t thought much about Pilgrims since I read Canterbury Tales in college. And just to clarify, I’m not talking about the kind that came to Plymouth and began the gluttony-filled Thanksgiving tradition we all know and love here in the US. I’m talking about those pilgrims driven out of religious fervor to walk hundreds and hundreds of miles to a specific holy location to worship, pray for forgiveness/healing, or the like. Well Northern Spain, apparently, has a famous and well-traveled pilgrim route that goes all the way from the Pyrenees in France to the most western region, Galicia. It ends at the great cathedral in Santiago de Compostela. The trail is marked with scallop shells and when people successfully arrive in Santiago, they celebrate by buying and eating a scallop. Then they would hang the shell from them or their stuff to show that they’ve completed the pilgrimage.

Well this route has been popular dating back all the way to…well, a long time ago. I don’t have the guide book in front of me but suffice it to say it was probably during those ages where pilgrimages were very fashionable. Back in the Middle Ages I think. Apparently, in the 1970’s this particular pilgrimage route become popular once again, especially within more Bohemian circles.

KA and I decided to stop in to see Santiago. It has a great story and I’m always a fan of seeing beautiful old things. The city was set up on an acropolis of sorts and old stone buildings with intricate carvings were everywhere. The cathedral was certainly grand. And the fact that it was a sunshiny day with deep blue skies and big puffy white clouds only made the scene more striking. What was most striking to me about the city was that there really were pilgrims everywhere! They were sprawled out in the big square in front of the cathedral. They were laughing and talking in groups, no doubt swapping stories from their adventures. Many sat with their legs (probably swollen) propped out in front of them looking up at the spires with that silly, gleeful look I’ve often seen on the faces of people at the end of marathons and other endurance tests.

KA and I are not religious and we did not in any means walk the route to Santiago (which apparently takes 5-6 weeks). We took more modern means of transportation and drove. But since our visit was at the end of the trip, and since we’d encountered and survived many adventures prior to standing underneath those imposing towers, we felt we deserved a scallop shell too.

Here are a few pictures of the cathedral and the pilgrims visiting it.

Spain, the Miniseries

On Sunday evening I got back from Spain. I’ve been there before, and I had a great time. On that trip we focused on the southern half of the country. Which meant we did all those things people generally do when they go to Spain. We walked through the Alhambra, went out in Ibiza and had tapas after a day full of Gaudi and sunshine in Barcelona. With those things checked off the list, I wanted to explore the rest of the country. I wanted to see the Northern half. Aside from San Sebastian, you hear very little about that part of the country. It was sort of a mystery. So we headed north of Madrid this time...and it was absolutely fantastic.

I’ve been thinking over the last few days a lot about specifically why it was so great. I think it’s because it really felt like an adventure. We spent most of our days exploring in our little rented Citroen C2. We had a plan but every day was full of surprise. We were forced to really understand and then live like the Spanish do. It was difficult at first but by the end, we were naturals. We encountered some small challenges (getting lost, stolen wallets, haunted places, etc.). But in the end they only made the experience richer. Each night we stayed in a historical hotel, or Parador, which meant we slept in a medieval castle, a fortress, a monastery and a couple of different manors. We went from the beaches to the snow and back again. We learned about the each of the different regions along the northern coast, and came to appreciate the relative beauty of each.

I really enjoyed southern Spain, but I fell in love with the north.

Friends had been asking this week how the trip was. It’s really hard to answer that. I can either answer it very simply by saying, “It was incredible!” Or I can go into a lot of detail—which isn’t always what people want. And when I’ve tried to give more detail, I feel like there is something serious lost in the translation. I can’t really explain how it was—you had to be there. So what I‘ve decided to do is post a little at a time, focusing on small stories from the trip. That way it is not too overwhelming for me, as the writer, or for you, as the reader. So consider this like a TV Miniseries. The next episode should be available tomorrow.

Au Revoir!

I leave for Espana tomorrow! KA and I are hitting the northern coast from the French border to the Portuguese side. We're starting in Madrid and we'll be spending Easter in San Sebastian. I once spent Easter in Italy and last year I was in the Bahamas for it. I don't really celebrate Easter, but now, doing it overseas...well, it's sort of become my thing.

So, buona pasque!