Wednesday, 31 March 2010
A quick thank you...
Just to let you all know, I've made it into the top 50 applicants for the STA Travel Internship. Thank you all for your support. Please keep watching out for me, I'll know if I make the top 20 next week. J x
Pizza n Pisa
So, as you can gather, neither Phil nor I really took to Milan but I feel its largely our fault. We just weren't prepared to enjoy it. It was always a day stop alone, and being tired and filthy always fades the rose-tinted glasses, especially when it rains.
So when a train whisked us away to Pisa 6 hours later we were both very grateful. Broadly speaking, what there is to say on Pisa is short - we saw the tower. (There's a bit more yet so read on)
We were only here again, for a matter of hours. First thing's first, we had a taxi waiting for us at the train station as part of the deal. Phil was very excited as he'd received an email saying they shall be holding a sign with his name on it. He felt like a minor celebrity, and literally had finger on trigger ready to take a photo of the epic moment. Imagine his disappointment when the sign read 'Jordan Selig' :-).
The hostel was interesting as it was in the heart of student Pisa (yes, there is one) and was like any well made house in Cathays - bare wires hung from hallways and half the building didn't have water. But to make up for this inconvenience we had been upgraded to a double bed each in the more deluxe rooms, free of charge..Meeting JayPee, the man in charge confirmed we were in fact staying in a student house with an entrepreneurial young man taking advantage of an absent landlord to make some money from the passing tourist trade.
Being Monday night, this student town sleeps. It runs Tuesday to Sunday apparently. However, we did find one bar open, playing cheesy electric pop music and serving pizza 100 yards outside our door. So, our first Pizza in Italy was devoured in Pisa, and was MASSIVE. Well needed after a diet of thin air for the last couple of days. And, so too, were the hot showers in the morning.
The leaning Tower of Pisa does exactly what it says on the tin. It leans, and its a tower. We had those atypical tourist photos pushing and pulling at it and then left. There was no way we could really accomplish more in either Milan or Pisa on our schedule for Italy. Rome, being a centrepiece of our week, has already been more fun...
So when a train whisked us away to Pisa 6 hours later we were both very grateful. Broadly speaking, what there is to say on Pisa is short - we saw the tower. (There's a bit more yet so read on)
We were only here again, for a matter of hours. First thing's first, we had a taxi waiting for us at the train station as part of the deal. Phil was very excited as he'd received an email saying they shall be holding a sign with his name on it. He felt like a minor celebrity, and literally had finger on trigger ready to take a photo of the epic moment. Imagine his disappointment when the sign read 'Jordan Selig' :-).
The hostel was interesting as it was in the heart of student Pisa (yes, there is one) and was like any well made house in Cathays - bare wires hung from hallways and half the building didn't have water. But to make up for this inconvenience we had been upgraded to a double bed each in the more deluxe rooms, free of charge..Meeting JayPee, the man in charge confirmed we were in fact staying in a student house with an entrepreneurial young man taking advantage of an absent landlord to make some money from the passing tourist trade.
Being Monday night, this student town sleeps. It runs Tuesday to Sunday apparently. However, we did find one bar open, playing cheesy electric pop music and serving pizza 100 yards outside our door. So, our first Pizza in Italy was devoured in Pisa, and was MASSIVE. Well needed after a diet of thin air for the last couple of days. And, so too, were the hot showers in the morning.
The leaning Tower of Pisa does exactly what it says on the tin. It leans, and its a tower. We had those atypical tourist photos pushing and pulling at it and then left. There was no way we could really accomplish more in either Milan or Pisa on our schedule for Italy. Rome, being a centrepiece of our week, has already been more fun...
A day to forget...in Milan.
Hi all,
I know its been a few days since I've blogged. We left Barcelona, came to Milan but didn't stop, Pisa's internet was broken and we've hit the site seeing of Rome hard. So, what can I fill you in on?
The travesty of HSBC has finally been resolved. It required a long phone call off an international line to finally speak to an operator who informed me the fraud protection team had blocked my card 'for my own benefit'. It transpires HSBC believed that to get from Portugal to Poland in 5 weeks travelling through Europe meant I would only use my card in Portugal and Poland...a steaming letter of complaint has already been sent.
An uber painful night-train; given our poverty in Barcelona we were forced to take the standard seat option for our transport to Milan - a 14.5hour journey through the French Alps and then back down to Italy. For the privilege of cramp in a 'reclining' seat that was so uncomfortable it saw people sleeping on the floor we had to pay 50 Euro, sit in stifling heat, and suffer another 2 hours delay on the journey.
The train wasn't without entertainment. With practically nothing to eat and drink in Barcelona (and another trip to the beach) dehydration kept us wired. I found myself getting the stretch bands out and finding a quiet place in the wee hours of the morning to try and exercise myself tired....3am full workout in a toilet cubicle is definitely an experience. Our day exertions, including a swim in the freezing Barca waters also meant we smelt like dogs. A special 'shower in a sink' is also an achievement in a moving train toilet...
The night also brought with it drama, when crossing the border brought the French police. Although they were dressed like the character, they were NOT as friendly as the policeman in Allo Allo - dragging the man sat opposite me off the train for failing to have a valid passport extension, giving him next to no time to grab his bags and shuffle off. What was left after that was one empty seat, and an eerie atmosphere...
On a lighter note, Phil technically had a beer in France as we went to the 'food carriage' for something to do at 4am.
Milan : To feel solid ground beneath the feet certainly was a relief. But after 16.5 hours of discomfort to be confronted with a further 1 hour queue to book the train to Pisa (there were 2 ticket operators for a queue of near 100 people) was not a great start. Unfortunately, Milan as a place fared no better. The city is ugly compared to the beauty of Valencia and Barcelona preceding it and relatively tourist unfriendly. Its heavily geared for the fashionista, and as Phil has no fashion sense and I have no patience for shopping, this aspect of the city was totally lost on us. We were practically stranded in a sea of high end shops...
We did visit Il Duormo - the world's grandest gothic cathedral, and unlike the disappointment of Sagrada Familia, we were able to head to the roof. As Milan was only a day trip we had the predicament of tight winding towerlets of stairs and the inevitable police checks to navigate our heavy backpacks through. Despite having enough on our shoulders to put the average infantryman to shame, and a turning circle as wide as that of a small lorry, we eventually stumbled our way up to an impressive vista of Milan at the top of the cathedral. We've certainly had cathedral overload of late, and shall be seeking to take a few days rest from these beautiful, promiment buildings.
We found little else to mention of Milan...we stumbled across the Italian equivalent of Greggs (fast fast fast bakery food) and both ended up buying reading material for the train at high prices, but apart from that, the only other item of merit was a 'cup of tea', served Italiano style in a pretentious cafe down a side alley - Prince of Wales tea. Intrigued, I opted for a cup, which is served black, and tastes like a cross between Earl Grey and Green Tea; the equivalent of drinking dirty dish water effectively. There is just no point seeking out an alternative...the English Breakfast cup is in a league of its own....
I know its been a few days since I've blogged. We left Barcelona, came to Milan but didn't stop, Pisa's internet was broken and we've hit the site seeing of Rome hard. So, what can I fill you in on?
The travesty of HSBC has finally been resolved. It required a long phone call off an international line to finally speak to an operator who informed me the fraud protection team had blocked my card 'for my own benefit'. It transpires HSBC believed that to get from Portugal to Poland in 5 weeks travelling through Europe meant I would only use my card in Portugal and Poland...a steaming letter of complaint has already been sent.
An uber painful night-train; given our poverty in Barcelona we were forced to take the standard seat option for our transport to Milan - a 14.5hour journey through the French Alps and then back down to Italy. For the privilege of cramp in a 'reclining' seat that was so uncomfortable it saw people sleeping on the floor we had to pay 50 Euro, sit in stifling heat, and suffer another 2 hours delay on the journey.
The train wasn't without entertainment. With practically nothing to eat and drink in Barcelona (and another trip to the beach) dehydration kept us wired. I found myself getting the stretch bands out and finding a quiet place in the wee hours of the morning to try and exercise myself tired....3am full workout in a toilet cubicle is definitely an experience. Our day exertions, including a swim in the freezing Barca waters also meant we smelt like dogs. A special 'shower in a sink' is also an achievement in a moving train toilet...
The night also brought with it drama, when crossing the border brought the French police. Although they were dressed like the character, they were NOT as friendly as the policeman in Allo Allo - dragging the man sat opposite me off the train for failing to have a valid passport extension, giving him next to no time to grab his bags and shuffle off. What was left after that was one empty seat, and an eerie atmosphere...
On a lighter note, Phil technically had a beer in France as we went to the 'food carriage' for something to do at 4am.
Milan : To feel solid ground beneath the feet certainly was a relief. But after 16.5 hours of discomfort to be confronted with a further 1 hour queue to book the train to Pisa (there were 2 ticket operators for a queue of near 100 people) was not a great start. Unfortunately, Milan as a place fared no better. The city is ugly compared to the beauty of Valencia and Barcelona preceding it and relatively tourist unfriendly. Its heavily geared for the fashionista, and as Phil has no fashion sense and I have no patience for shopping, this aspect of the city was totally lost on us. We were practically stranded in a sea of high end shops...
We did visit Il Duormo - the world's grandest gothic cathedral, and unlike the disappointment of Sagrada Familia, we were able to head to the roof. As Milan was only a day trip we had the predicament of tight winding towerlets of stairs and the inevitable police checks to navigate our heavy backpacks through. Despite having enough on our shoulders to put the average infantryman to shame, and a turning circle as wide as that of a small lorry, we eventually stumbled our way up to an impressive vista of Milan at the top of the cathedral. We've certainly had cathedral overload of late, and shall be seeking to take a few days rest from these beautiful, promiment buildings.
We found little else to mention of Milan...we stumbled across the Italian equivalent of Greggs (fast fast fast bakery food) and both ended up buying reading material for the train at high prices, but apart from that, the only other item of merit was a 'cup of tea', served Italiano style in a pretentious cafe down a side alley - Prince of Wales tea. Intrigued, I opted for a cup, which is served black, and tastes like a cross between Earl Grey and Green Tea; the equivalent of drinking dirty dish water effectively. There is just no point seeking out an alternative...the English Breakfast cup is in a league of its own....
Sunday, 28 March 2010
Ba Ba Barcelona!
HSCB decided to block my card because ´someone is withdrawing money from abroad´...whoever could that be? And the world´s local bank has a non-existent presence in Spain. Definition of helpful. Phil maxed his overdraft. Typical - our second day here was looking bleak especially as we could afford even the train to the next place. But it gave us the challenge of seeing Barcelona on 20 euro or less.
First vital payment was a 10 journey metro card we can share between us, well worth 9 Euros (4,50 each) to get us around. Another essential, and rightly so was the 12 euro to see the Sagrada Familia. And the final essential was the 3 euro to go up into the Mirador de Colom - Barcelona´s Nelson Column sized plinth of Christopher Columbus that actually has a viewing platform at the top on the inside!
So, that left us with 0.5 euro each pretty much. Bottle of water between the two of us saw off my budget and Phil found the odd Euro lining his pockets to get a Euro Drink and snack.
So, that left us with the option of doing what the tour guides suggested anyway - soaking up the atmosphere! Guess those 15 euro meg-clubs of Europe shall have to wait until a stag do.
I don´t like to write like a tour guide too much but Sagrada Familia cathedral is a wonder of the modern world. It is the last of Gaudi´s great plans with 8 towers over 100 metres high that is designed around the beauty and symmetry of nature and its connection with God. It is breathtaking, but also decidedly normal as its strewn with builder´s junk. Its still years from completion..20 or so.
Soaking up the atmosphere here was easy. We went through the bustling Las Ramblas, like London´s Southbank but with Spanish eccentricities - street artists from Matador´s to Gremlins, artists and street vendors (some trying to sell you canaries strangely) everywhere, and then onto
La Boqueria one of the largest markets of fruit and veg in Europe where people literally queue up for bananas the same way we´d queue for a film premiere.
We took a turn and in 30 seconds found ourselves back in the 13th century staring up at a medieval cathedral, walking streets you could touch both sides of if you stretched out your arms! And then we topped the day off with a trip to the beach, with our tops off among the locals dressed in jumpers, jeans and scarves and a quick snoring siesta on the sands before heading back to the hostel.
Getting back we´d managed to sort Phil´s overdraft problem so food was on him, but frugality was definitely on the menu for us both following that scare. Our 70 euro ticket to Milan tonight was a hard hit to take...So a trip to the cheapest Spanish supermarket saw us return with bread, cheese, and enough cheap meats for a small army, and a 12 pack of Spanish beer for 1.99 (ridiculous! and good beer!). Needless to say today is a leftover day...and if we keep eating like that we´ll get rickets.
Our ´massive mash up’ on the town actually involved 5 Americans and endless friendly discussion on our collective poverties, experiences, and GB-UK differences. Although we never expected to, we ended up playing tour guide as two of the girls are heading to Cardiff next week....I now have a ´blogging partner´ for my troubles, and look forward to my mention in her accounts of last night.
Barcelona has been an experience. Any country with no money is a horrible experience, its a weight on the shoulders and a pit in the stomach. But good company is everywhere, and for a massive city well deserved of the Spanish capital´s crown in my (only personal) opinion, it certainly feels homely...x
First vital payment was a 10 journey metro card we can share between us, well worth 9 Euros (4,50 each) to get us around. Another essential, and rightly so was the 12 euro to see the Sagrada Familia. And the final essential was the 3 euro to go up into the Mirador de Colom - Barcelona´s Nelson Column sized plinth of Christopher Columbus that actually has a viewing platform at the top on the inside!
So, that left us with 0.5 euro each pretty much. Bottle of water between the two of us saw off my budget and Phil found the odd Euro lining his pockets to get a Euro Drink and snack.
So, that left us with the option of doing what the tour guides suggested anyway - soaking up the atmosphere! Guess those 15 euro meg-clubs of Europe shall have to wait until a stag do.
I don´t like to write like a tour guide too much but Sagrada Familia cathedral is a wonder of the modern world. It is the last of Gaudi´s great plans with 8 towers over 100 metres high that is designed around the beauty and symmetry of nature and its connection with God. It is breathtaking, but also decidedly normal as its strewn with builder´s junk. Its still years from completion..20 or so.
Soaking up the atmosphere here was easy. We went through the bustling Las Ramblas, like London´s Southbank but with Spanish eccentricities - street artists from Matador´s to Gremlins, artists and street vendors (some trying to sell you canaries strangely) everywhere, and then onto
La Boqueria one of the largest markets of fruit and veg in Europe where people literally queue up for bananas the same way we´d queue for a film premiere.
We took a turn and in 30 seconds found ourselves back in the 13th century staring up at a medieval cathedral, walking streets you could touch both sides of if you stretched out your arms! And then we topped the day off with a trip to the beach, with our tops off among the locals dressed in jumpers, jeans and scarves and a quick snoring siesta on the sands before heading back to the hostel.
Getting back we´d managed to sort Phil´s overdraft problem so food was on him, but frugality was definitely on the menu for us both following that scare. Our 70 euro ticket to Milan tonight was a hard hit to take...So a trip to the cheapest Spanish supermarket saw us return with bread, cheese, and enough cheap meats for a small army, and a 12 pack of Spanish beer for 1.99 (ridiculous! and good beer!). Needless to say today is a leftover day...and if we keep eating like that we´ll get rickets.
Our ´massive mash up’ on the town actually involved 5 Americans and endless friendly discussion on our collective poverties, experiences, and GB-UK differences. Although we never expected to, we ended up playing tour guide as two of the girls are heading to Cardiff next week....I now have a ´blogging partner´ for my troubles, and look forward to my mention in her accounts of last night.
Barcelona has been an experience. Any country with no money is a horrible experience, its a weight on the shoulders and a pit in the stomach. But good company is everywhere, and for a massive city well deserved of the Spanish capital´s crown in my (only personal) opinion, it certainly feels homely...x
Saturday, 27 March 2010
A couple of quick observations
1. I can´t access my money (because HSBC are retards) and Phil has no money... will we make it as gigolos?
There are some things that I´ll forget if I don´t write them down;
1. EVERYWHERE in Spain a beer comes out of a vending machine for a euro
2. Books come out of vending machines at train stations
3. Road crossings tweet at you (like a birdie) OR give you a 30 second countdown to get across.
4. Numbers on cashpoints are backwards (1 at the bottom as opposed to at the top).
5. The item of clean clothing is always at the bottom of the dirty ones
6. The wise traveller has spare money lurking about in case of an emergency.
7. Tea / chocolate addiction is difficult to crack.
PS. we are in Barcelona and have been told ´we will get rooked´
x
There are some things that I´ll forget if I don´t write them down;
1. EVERYWHERE in Spain a beer comes out of a vending machine for a euro
2. Books come out of vending machines at train stations
3. Road crossings tweet at you (like a birdie) OR give you a 30 second countdown to get across.
4. Numbers on cashpoints are backwards (1 at the bottom as opposed to at the top).
5. The item of clean clothing is always at the bottom of the dirty ones
6. The wise traveller has spare money lurking about in case of an emergency.
7. Tea / chocolate addiction is difficult to crack.
PS. we are in Barcelona and have been told ´we will get rooked´
x
Friday, 26 March 2010
Madrid Madrid Madrid
We´re now well into our second day here and looking forward to Valencia and the beach tomorrow. Madrid has brought with it some culture that I didn’t expect to enjoy but somehow really did!
The first day brought with it laundry and ´recovery’ and from my POV a lot of frustration as it seemed we didn´t have a focus here and we were wasting time doing nothing...I think Lizzie and Andrew´s postcard got the brunt of that negativity (sorry). However to sum everything up as just that is unfair.
We went on an awesome tapas tour through the hostel for 10 euro which bought us a sample of authenticity away from tourist hotspots and 3 sangrias and a beer. The tour was ´personal´ with only Phil and I, a Chinese girl called Judy (now living in Liverpool) and the effervescent tour guide Jenny - an ex political campaigner from New York. We got on very well, me more than most, with Jenny and decided to meet up later in the evening :)
Skipping past the boring we met up later that night and she took us on what started out almost like a guided tour of Madrid. We found ourselves supping sangria in what Jenny coined ´the ´Gayborhood¨of Madrid, one of the nicer areas, and then on from there we went to La Latina the value-for-money bar region...but that was quite a bit of time later. Sangria, a trip to a fantastic vegetarian restaurant on the way for falafel , and a wrong turn or two took us up towards the monuments of Madrid (the Royal Palace, the National Institute etc) with their beautiful night time lighting and vistas of the city. I can´t say I took too much of it in...Jenny and I let Phil be the sites-photographer...
The humble Daffodil has overtaken the fields of Madrid and uprooting one from the VERY off limits Palatial gardens to present to our tour guide on the way proved an ideal romantic gesture.....
The night pressed on and after another drink at one of Jenny´s other hostels, and meeting her other tour guide friend Michelle, we said our fond goodbyes at 1.30am...
Today has brought with it both the Prado and the Reina Sofia museums as well as the Botanical Gardens and a trip to Artocha train station to see their tropical gardens complete with tens of turtles dumped right in the middle of the station! The Reina far outweighs the Prado in my uncultured mind as it was full of colours and shapes pleasing to my bovine eye. It was also FILLED with Dali and Picasso paintings, by far my favourite artists.
Thank God for GCSE Spanish as I almost got thrown out! The gallery operates a no video policy but its fine to take no-flash photos...I plead the innocence of a rogue here as I was guilty playing ´Blue Peter presenter´ in the middle of the gallery when I was first approached on my way round. Opting to take still photos with a camera that looks like a video camera thereafter meant I was the centre of every attendant´s attention and radio call thereafter...good job I remembered enough Spanish not to resort to elaborate charades to prove my following innocence.
Written FROM Valencia: The night also brought with it a surprise or two. We ventured to through Madrid´s night life taking advantage of every promoter´s free drink offers as we went by. Before long we found ourselves in the centre of a whopping mass of (sexy) Irish on tour, on a bar crawl and became honorary Irish for the night...I guess luck of the Irish is a true phrase here as I found I got on VERY well with a blonde, blue eyed Irish girl called ´Deidra´ on the way round.
Unfortunately, hitting too many sangrias means getting between bars and clubs eventually becomes too much of a task and Phil and I found ourselves talking pleasantly with some tourists NOT on the tour between the penultimate and final venue and headed the wrong way. An exchanged telephone number earlier in the night MAY mean we´ll find each other in Barcelona, but I doubt it as I´m sure Phil´s taken too many digits......
PS: The video blog will have to wait until my return. There´s no easy way to upload footage, and there´s no programs (including open source) to edit with en route. But it will be epic and up VERY quickly post my travels.
The first day brought with it laundry and ´recovery’ and from my POV a lot of frustration as it seemed we didn´t have a focus here and we were wasting time doing nothing...I think Lizzie and Andrew´s postcard got the brunt of that negativity (sorry). However to sum everything up as just that is unfair.
We went on an awesome tapas tour through the hostel for 10 euro which bought us a sample of authenticity away from tourist hotspots and 3 sangrias and a beer. The tour was ´personal´ with only Phil and I, a Chinese girl called Judy (now living in Liverpool) and the effervescent tour guide Jenny - an ex political campaigner from New York. We got on very well, me more than most, with Jenny and decided to meet up later in the evening :)
Skipping past the boring we met up later that night and she took us on what started out almost like a guided tour of Madrid. We found ourselves supping sangria in what Jenny coined ´the ´Gayborhood¨of Madrid, one of the nicer areas, and then on from there we went to La Latina the value-for-money bar region...but that was quite a bit of time later. Sangria, a trip to a fantastic vegetarian restaurant on the way for falafel , and a wrong turn or two took us up towards the monuments of Madrid (the Royal Palace, the National Institute etc) with their beautiful night time lighting and vistas of the city. I can´t say I took too much of it in...Jenny and I let Phil be the sites-photographer...
The humble Daffodil has overtaken the fields of Madrid and uprooting one from the VERY off limits Palatial gardens to present to our tour guide on the way proved an ideal romantic gesture.....
The night pressed on and after another drink at one of Jenny´s other hostels, and meeting her other tour guide friend Michelle, we said our fond goodbyes at 1.30am...
Today has brought with it both the Prado and the Reina Sofia museums as well as the Botanical Gardens and a trip to Artocha train station to see their tropical gardens complete with tens of turtles dumped right in the middle of the station! The Reina far outweighs the Prado in my uncultured mind as it was full of colours and shapes pleasing to my bovine eye. It was also FILLED with Dali and Picasso paintings, by far my favourite artists.
Thank God for GCSE Spanish as I almost got thrown out! The gallery operates a no video policy but its fine to take no-flash photos...I plead the innocence of a rogue here as I was guilty playing ´Blue Peter presenter´ in the middle of the gallery when I was first approached on my way round. Opting to take still photos with a camera that looks like a video camera thereafter meant I was the centre of every attendant´s attention and radio call thereafter...good job I remembered enough Spanish not to resort to elaborate charades to prove my following innocence.
Written FROM Valencia: The night also brought with it a surprise or two. We ventured to through Madrid´s night life taking advantage of every promoter´s free drink offers as we went by. Before long we found ourselves in the centre of a whopping mass of (sexy) Irish on tour, on a bar crawl and became honorary Irish for the night...I guess luck of the Irish is a true phrase here as I found I got on VERY well with a blonde, blue eyed Irish girl called ´Deidra´ on the way round.
Unfortunately, hitting too many sangrias means getting between bars and clubs eventually becomes too much of a task and Phil and I found ourselves talking pleasantly with some tourists NOT on the tour between the penultimate and final venue and headed the wrong way. An exchanged telephone number earlier in the night MAY mean we´ll find each other in Barcelona, but I doubt it as I´m sure Phil´s taken too many digits......
PS: The video blog will have to wait until my return. There´s no easy way to upload footage, and there´s no programs (including open source) to edit with en route. But it will be epic and up VERY quickly post my travels.
Va Va Vamos a Valencia!!
We have not cycled through Valencia we´ve flown. I type this after another mad Indiana Jones style dash from one side of Valencia to the other on a rickety girls bike flying at 100 miles an hour in our desperate attempt to get our train to Barcelona at 4pm...We made it in good time (and here´s the funny part) only to find where we are returning the bikes back (to get my 100 euro deposit) shuts for siesta between 2 and 5 so it made no difference anyway! We could have CRAWLED back and we would still be getting the same train to Barcelona tonight!
Anyway, Valencia itself¨;
It´s ´Si Si´ when you know how! Seaside, Cycling, and Simply amazing Seafood. We spent the first day down on the beach, embarking on a massive 2 hour walk to get there. We arrived only to find British springtime greeted us instead of Spanish - a freezing cold water and an overcast day. But we are proud ambassadors of our British way of life, and despite the water being as cold as Bournemouth´s we jumped in for a brisk swim to wake us up!´
We spiced things up with a trip to the huge local market - which is like a department store filled with fresh fruit, veg and seafood and sampled the best dish we´ve had in Spain yet - Fideua - for those as ignorant as me its like a cross between rice/spaghetti pieces mixed with tiger prawns, mussels, fish pieces and peas. I´ve never eaten prawns or mussels before (nut allergies tend to go hand in hand with seafood allergies) - plus I think they look like scary aliens - I would have been about as nervous eating a monkey brain as I was that first prawn with its detached beady eye staring back at me (and all those legs!).
We have done Kodak proud this visit and snapped happy. Phil probably knows every fountain in Valencia by first name now whereas I seem to have developed a love for the humble orange trees which is probably unhealthy. Valencia has been the ideal rest days. The ´famous´ hostel we have stayed in has been perfect - no bunk beds = a great night sleep.
Valencia itself is quite a ´sleepy city´ or at least it feels it because all the roads are wide (remember they forms the F1 circuit) and cyclists rule the pavements. Today we rented bikes, mine being sold as a ´hybrid´ bike but I´m under no illusions it was a girl´s bike. We cycled the length of the picturesque city park with all its beautiful architecture and flora, and the length of Valencia´s seafront before returning for a highly recommended paella on the seafront. Expensive but delicious and enough for 4!
As I say we left the beach at 2.40, with 1 hours pleasant cycle to do, bags to pick up, train station to get to and tickets to buy. We flew through the cycling in 30 minutes to get to Barcelona in time, but clearly Valencia being as friendly as it has been, just wants us to stay that little bit longer. And with it being the picture-postcard image of Spain, I for one am happy to :-) x
Tuesday, 23 March 2010
Took the Midnight Train going.....What a Journey
Ok guys I´ve got plenty to blog but only 20 mins limit.
1st excuse spelling mistakes and punctuation as the keyboard is broken and excuse no videos uploaded yet as there´s no way to access the SD reader here!
BUT the important things:
Having ´worked my magic´in the comon room the evening brough us an American and 4 Romanians to´goplay with´ in Barrio Alto in the bar district of Lisbon. The Romanians, Jonny, his girlfriend,Ellie and Millie were all fluent in a number of languages so getting around wasn´t a problem.Except the journey to the bar disrict brought with it a vertical hike up the steepest tramline in Lisbon to the very top of a hill. It also brought the same joureny on the way back down and I surprised there are not more drink induced deaths with steeps like that to navigate after a few too many gjiners (local liquor made with ginger,sered with a cherry in a chocolate shot glass and as delicious as it sounds).
So,what can I tell you that is interesting? How about the bar district was about as dead as any UK town on a Sunday night -it is clear that Sunday is the day of rest foralmost ALL hungover Europeans.The district, a set of tiny, narrow interlaced streets were crammed with bars on either side but all wereemptyand boarded up. BUT in true party goer style,at 12.40am (typical starting timefor a night out for the locals) we finally stumbled across a few streets that bucked the trend and two bars in particular.The more lively of the two was the size of a shoebox (In Portugal,due to the weather, peoplebuy drinks at the bar and head to the street to drink them - why the venue was so small) but filled with latinospirit as a vocalist, a hand drum,andan electro-acoustic guitarist filled the night with music from retro UK classics and Portugese favourites - even an acapelo ´Mercedes Benz´song cameto the fore! The barmen instantly took a shine to our group and at 2 am after limbering down with the locals we found ourselves in alockin as they closeddown ad then onto a club where they knew the owners. Phil´s chavvy addidas styleleggings denied him entry, but he was allowed to be smuggled in because of the barman ´Rasta Mini- Crabman´s´(My Name is Earl reference here) big smilesand friendliness with the doormen. Rasta Crabman was awesome-singing La Bumba as we strutted down the street, passing round free shots and smiling andlaughingall the time! He was also rather short at about 4ft 1-aphenomenonnotoo rare in Lisbon!
The club we eneded up in played VERY hard electronic tunes with extra beat and was the polar oppositeof the rythmic latino style music ofearlier. Filled with smoke (the ban does not exist in Portugal) it was an experience and the type of characters in the club were something towitness - lookalikes for both Luigi fromMario Bros and the old withered lady fromEmmerdalewere both breaking it down like they were in a Rave!
At 4amwe realised we had done 24 hours awake in Lisbon, a goodmoment.Reutrn to the club tookus till5am, an exchange of numbers with the crazy Romanian cutie Millie, an offerofsomewhereto stay in Romania, and with plenty to see the day after, sleep was kept to only3 1/2 hours...
Yesterday was a blur of typically touristy sitesand although Icouldmention them all you woudn´t appreciate the listof names. The cultureofaplace is defined by its people more than its attractions in my eyes. Nevertheless we ended in Belem to see the Tour of the same name and found ourselves having lunch in the nearby Park. Spying an orange tree heavy with fruit brought me the most pleasure of the site-seeing as I tried to pick the fruit off the branches.Told by a local the tree wasn´t weight bearing I tried to throw a stone to knock the oranges but to no avail (but some great camerafootage). Eventually, a leg up the tree lead to our prize bt a stern telling off fromtwoolderPortugese ladies (what I can onlyassume was such).
The camea died at this point having not been charged for two days so missed the wonderfultraveller incident of getting lost...Both Phil and I were (a) too tired to stay awake from theprevious night and (b) had noidea what wewerelookingforso when we tried to see the Oceanarium that evening,we over-shot intoa totally new district of Lisbon! Onlythe sympathy /scolding of the worl´s most stern Portugese helper brought us back on track and towards the Oceanarium. Phil has taken about a thousand photos (I thought he was trying to enter Photographer of the Year) and I shall be stealing thm to demonstrate the size of the tank we saw. The size of 4 olympic swimming pools should give you some idea.
Eventually, we said goodbye to Lisbon via the night-train. Some video footage will follow of this, but its fair to say this was a sardine can for humans aptly named a ´train hotel´. Although cramped, it had all ´modcons´including a sink and some coat hangars to go with our brown mlitary style bunkbeds.. To be honest though, none of this mattered as it has brought us to Madrid where e have already gone on a tapas tour and are going out with the guide, especially, later tonight :-).
Viva Sangria, more to follow soon x.
OK - The evening
1st excuse spelling mistakes and punctuation as the keyboard is broken and excuse no videos uploaded yet as there´s no way to access the SD reader here!
BUT the important things:
Having ´worked my magic´in the comon room the evening brough us an American and 4 Romanians to´goplay with´ in Barrio Alto in the bar district of Lisbon. The Romanians, Jonny, his girlfriend,Ellie and Millie were all fluent in a number of languages so getting around wasn´t a problem.Except the journey to the bar disrict brought with it a vertical hike up the steepest tramline in Lisbon to the very top of a hill. It also brought the same joureny on the way back down and I surprised there are not more drink induced deaths with steeps like that to navigate after a few too many gjiners (local liquor made with ginger,sered with a cherry in a chocolate shot glass and as delicious as it sounds).
So,what can I tell you that is interesting? How about the bar district was about as dead as any UK town on a Sunday night -it is clear that Sunday is the day of rest foralmost ALL hungover Europeans.The district, a set of tiny, narrow interlaced streets were crammed with bars on either side but all wereemptyand boarded up. BUT in true party goer style,at 12.40am (typical starting timefor a night out for the locals) we finally stumbled across a few streets that bucked the trend and two bars in particular.The more lively of the two was the size of a shoebox (In Portugal,due to the weather, peoplebuy drinks at the bar and head to the street to drink them - why the venue was so small) but filled with latinospirit as a vocalist, a hand drum,andan electro-acoustic guitarist filled the night with music from retro UK classics and Portugese favourites - even an acapelo ´Mercedes Benz´song cameto the fore! The barmen instantly took a shine to our group and at 2 am after limbering down with the locals we found ourselves in alockin as they closeddown ad then onto a club where they knew the owners. Phil´s chavvy addidas styleleggings denied him entry, but he was allowed to be smuggled in because of the barman ´Rasta Mini- Crabman´s´(My Name is Earl reference here) big smilesand friendliness with the doormen. Rasta Crabman was awesome-singing La Bumba as we strutted down the street, passing round free shots and smiling andlaughingall the time! He was also rather short at about 4ft 1-aphenomenonnotoo rare in Lisbon!
The club we eneded up in played VERY hard electronic tunes with extra beat and was the polar oppositeof the rythmic latino style music ofearlier. Filled with smoke (the ban does not exist in Portugal) it was an experience and the type of characters in the club were something towitness - lookalikes for both Luigi fromMario Bros and the old withered lady fromEmmerdalewere both breaking it down like they were in a Rave!
At 4amwe realised we had done 24 hours awake in Lisbon, a goodmoment.Reutrn to the club tookus till5am, an exchange of numbers with the crazy Romanian cutie Millie, an offerofsomewhereto stay in Romania, and with plenty to see the day after, sleep was kept to only3 1/2 hours...
Yesterday was a blur of typically touristy sitesand although Icouldmention them all you woudn´t appreciate the listof names. The cultureofaplace is defined by its people more than its attractions in my eyes. Nevertheless we ended in Belem to see the Tour of the same name and found ourselves having lunch in the nearby Park. Spying an orange tree heavy with fruit brought me the most pleasure of the site-seeing as I tried to pick the fruit off the branches.Told by a local the tree wasn´t weight bearing I tried to throw a stone to knock the oranges but to no avail (but some great camerafootage). Eventually, a leg up the tree lead to our prize bt a stern telling off fromtwoolderPortugese ladies (what I can onlyassume was such).
The camea died at this point having not been charged for two days so missed the wonderfultraveller incident of getting lost...Both Phil and I were (a) too tired to stay awake from theprevious night and (b) had noidea what wewerelookingforso when we tried to see the Oceanarium that evening,we over-shot intoa totally new district of Lisbon! Onlythe sympathy /scolding of the worl´s most stern Portugese helper brought us back on track and towards the Oceanarium. Phil has taken about a thousand photos (I thought he was trying to enter Photographer of the Year) and I shall be stealing thm to demonstrate the size of the tank we saw. The size of 4 olympic swimming pools should give you some idea.
Eventually, we said goodbye to Lisbon via the night-train. Some video footage will follow of this, but its fair to say this was a sardine can for humans aptly named a ´train hotel´. Although cramped, it had all ´modcons´including a sink and some coat hangars to go with our brown mlitary style bunkbeds.. To be honest though, none of this mattered as it has brought us to Madrid where e have already gone on a tapas tour and are going out with the guide, especially, later tonight :-).
Viva Sangria, more to follow soon x.
OK - The evening
Sunday, 21 March 2010
Lisbon day 1
Hi guys!
This is the 2nd blog and the first full day abroad although we've not yet been in Lisbon for 24 hours! I've imposed a limit of 20 mins for this blog so I can get on with enjoying life here!
There's loads of footage due to be uploaded from camera and stills for day 1 but neither Phil nor I had a working SD card USB so until that's purchased all stays firmly on the camera.
The day has started with the rude awakening of a 4am journey from Birmingham to Luton, On arrival we had plenty of time to 'settle in' and have breakfast (we'll skip over Burger King breakfast cuisine). Arriving at checkout 3 hours early means we had plenty of time to ensure we we on the plane in time - which is why at 8.40 we were surprised to find ourselves sprinting the length of Luton terminals to get to boarding with 5 minutes to spare. We were categorically the LAST people on the plane (yes, typical, but funny).
It seems that things are meant to be as with the only two seats left we found ourselves sat next to the beautiful Matti, a Lisbon native, who has instantly become the first person we have ever had the ´backpacker conversation´with and also was so amazing that she left her parents at the airport and took us for coffee at her favourite spot in Lisbon, with one hell of a vista of the city. She even ended paying for the coffee! I cannot say how impressed I have been with her generosity. Faith in humanity, if waivering, now restored.
Matti eventually left us and we've swapped numbers (rather she's written her number on a piece of paper along with some key common words for us to learn while here and given it to Phil). Since then we've trekked the length and breadth of a central Lisbon, exchanging Cheshire cat smiles and quizzical looks as we've stumbled across some beautiful scenes (photos to follow) but mainly in the wrong direction from our hostel. Lisbon is crammed full of architecture to rival the magnificence of London and I can see why so many Europeans head here culturally. Also with the colourful backdrop and rave party atmosphere (remember drug possesion is legal) I can say why EVERYONE heads here. In fact, if we had bought when offered hash, we'd probably be drug lords by now...
Our hostel is amazing and we have probably been spoilt for the rest of the journey. The least impressive aspect of this venue is everything is supplied by Ikea or is genuinely retro - that's hardly a negative for somewhere I'd look to buy, let alone stay the night in. Smack bang in the middle of Lisbon I be more impressed and with it being Sunday it is quiet but we have already met a few of our room mates who seem normal in our 10 bed dorm.
We've eaten tradditional cuisine today - I can´t remember the name of my dish but its a mixture of cod strips, fried onions and scrambled egg served with salad. Unfortunately, where we ate was more keyed up for tourists than for authenticity and Phil has ended up eating a Portugese titled version of Chicken and Chips...Restaurante Nilo you're name is apt because out of 10 you'd probably get nill. I'm being harsh, the beers served with the meal were giant and easy drinking, Corona stylie.
Its 5.30pm at the time of writing and we've been up since 4am. We won't get an early one - as Phil has been saying in Allo Allo standard Portugese 'Sim a todos' - yes to everything and so on the advice of Matti and the amazing Alla from behind the counter here in the hostel we shall be heading to the bar quarter tonight for a Portugese style celebration or bar crawl. Tomorrow brings Belem, some family restaurant selling the best Portugese sweets in Portugal, the 2nd largest oceanarium in Europe, a tram ride, and a night train to Madrid.
And hopefully some visual aids to these entries. Love to you all. x
Today's blog is dedicated to Matti for her amazing introduction to the Portugese way of life. Obrigado!
This is the 2nd blog and the first full day abroad although we've not yet been in Lisbon for 24 hours! I've imposed a limit of 20 mins for this blog so I can get on with enjoying life here!
There's loads of footage due to be uploaded from camera and stills for day 1 but neither Phil nor I had a working SD card USB so until that's purchased all stays firmly on the camera.
The day has started with the rude awakening of a 4am journey from Birmingham to Luton, On arrival we had plenty of time to 'settle in' and have breakfast (we'll skip over Burger King breakfast cuisine). Arriving at checkout 3 hours early means we had plenty of time to ensure we we on the plane in time - which is why at 8.40 we were surprised to find ourselves sprinting the length of Luton terminals to get to boarding with 5 minutes to spare. We were categorically the LAST people on the plane (yes, typical, but funny).
It seems that things are meant to be as with the only two seats left we found ourselves sat next to the beautiful Matti, a Lisbon native, who has instantly become the first person we have ever had the ´backpacker conversation´with and also was so amazing that she left her parents at the airport and took us for coffee at her favourite spot in Lisbon, with one hell of a vista of the city. She even ended paying for the coffee! I cannot say how impressed I have been with her generosity. Faith in humanity, if waivering, now restored.
Matti eventually left us and we've swapped numbers (rather she's written her number on a piece of paper along with some key common words for us to learn while here and given it to Phil). Since then we've trekked the length and breadth of a central Lisbon, exchanging Cheshire cat smiles and quizzical looks as we've stumbled across some beautiful scenes (photos to follow) but mainly in the wrong direction from our hostel. Lisbon is crammed full of architecture to rival the magnificence of London and I can see why so many Europeans head here culturally. Also with the colourful backdrop and rave party atmosphere (remember drug possesion is legal) I can say why EVERYONE heads here. In fact, if we had bought when offered hash, we'd probably be drug lords by now...
Our hostel is amazing and we have probably been spoilt for the rest of the journey. The least impressive aspect of this venue is everything is supplied by Ikea or is genuinely retro - that's hardly a negative for somewhere I'd look to buy, let alone stay the night in. Smack bang in the middle of Lisbon I be more impressed and with it being Sunday it is quiet but we have already met a few of our room mates who seem normal in our 10 bed dorm.
We've eaten tradditional cuisine today - I can´t remember the name of my dish but its a mixture of cod strips, fried onions and scrambled egg served with salad. Unfortunately, where we ate was more keyed up for tourists than for authenticity and Phil has ended up eating a Portugese titled version of Chicken and Chips...Restaurante Nilo you're name is apt because out of 10 you'd probably get nill. I'm being harsh, the beers served with the meal were giant and easy drinking, Corona stylie.
Its 5.30pm at the time of writing and we've been up since 4am. We won't get an early one - as Phil has been saying in Allo Allo standard Portugese 'Sim a todos' - yes to everything and so on the advice of Matti and the amazing Alla from behind the counter here in the hostel we shall be heading to the bar quarter tonight for a Portugese style celebration or bar crawl. Tomorrow brings Belem, some family restaurant selling the best Portugese sweets in Portugal, the 2nd largest oceanarium in Europe, a tram ride, and a night train to Madrid.
And hopefully some visual aids to these entries. Love to you all. x
Today's blog is dedicated to Matti for her amazing introduction to the Portugese way of life. Obrigado!
Saturday, 20 March 2010
The night before it begins...
Hey guys, this is the first entry on the blog. I shall keep this one (relatively) short and sweet. It's 20.15, the night before. I'm fully packed, camera has turned up, and I've made it safely to Birmingham where we drive from in the morning. I spent 3 hours falling asleep and thumbing through a Western Europe phrasebook earlier today and feel that suitably qualifies me to converse with the locals from the second we land in Lisbon - in fact its more of a lingual education that I ever got in school. Travel is finally happening, and hopefully some of the adventures will find their way up on here in summary.
A maxim for the journey, in the appropriate lingo:
Qem nao arrisca, nao petisca
If you don't take a risk, you won't eat delicacies - Portuguese saying.
Jordan x
A maxim for the journey, in the appropriate lingo:
Qem nao arrisca, nao petisca
If you don't take a risk, you won't eat delicacies - Portuguese saying.
Jordan x
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