More Parisian Fun - Then Londo - Then REALLY Dondo

The last few days we spent in Paris involved a lot of wandering and sightseeing, which is where we passed this creatively named bus. One other cool thing we saw was The Beaches, which is done every summer in Paris. Along the Seine they unload tons of sand and set up beach chairs and chaise lounges, and even have foosball and awesome water misters that were just what we needed on the hot summer days.

A big highlight of Paris was out last evening there. Someone recommended we check out the Fat Tire Bike Tours that take you around the city, so we decided to check it out. After we met a big group of tourists like ourselves under the Tour Eiffel, we headed to the office to get our bikes.

We took the beach cruisers all around the city, stopping occasionally to learn different facts about Paris, like where Marie Antoinette was held in jail before she was beheaded, how Notre Dame was cleaned after the French Revolution, and where Johnny Depp lives. We even rode all through the outside areas of the Louvre, around I.M. Pei's pyramid and through the Jardin de Toulliere.

At the end of the ride we ended up at the Seine where we boarded a boat that took us up and down the river. Our guides even provided wine for us to enjoy as we went along, and we got to see the Eiffel Tower lit up as it does every hour on the hour. It was a really great way to spend the last night of our visit.

The next day we got on the Eurostar and made our way back to London to stay with Lisa and Gavin for a few days before getting back to the states. While there we got to check out central London, have some beers at various pubs, and met up with the same friends we saw on our first pass through England.

2 days later we were on our way back to New York, and our journey was officially over. I'm sure there were plenty of details that I've left out in all of these blogs, but I have a feeling our days of travel aren't over. Something about seeing new things just makes you crave more new experiences, so check back one of these days to find out what we'll be up to next...

Gay Paris!

Paris has been a dream so far, and as I write this we’re only halfway through our time here. Our last drive in the old Peugeot was an easy one, and we made it to our hotel without much trouble. We’re staying in Montparnasse in the southern part of Paris, and we have a great little neighborhood that we’ve been getting to know well.

Our first big adventure here was returning the car to the airport, which sounds like a breeze, but was not. I now know Charles de Gaulle airport like the back of my hand. After dropping off the car we visited Notre Dame, then walked along the Seine, past the Louvre, by the Opera, and back around to the Arc de Triomphe. Lots of walking that day, so needless to say, we were pooped. We had a late dinner and called it a night.

Another of our days here we went in search of Jim Morrison’s grave. Just to set the record straight, neither of us were crazy desperate to see the grave like so many who’ve visited before, but we felt like wandering and it sounded like an interesting adventure. Turns out, not so interesting after all. As we wandered through the cemetery, it was pretty clear that a lot of people were headed to the same place we were (it was the most crowded cemetery I’ve ever visited - live people, that is). As you round the corner to his grave, the first thing you see is a security guard. The second thing you see is a metal barrier. The third is lots of people.

I had seen pictures of the grave before, and I knew there was a bust of Mr. Morisson and graffiti covering the whole thing, as well as headstones around it. Now the bust is gone, the headstones are clean, and there is nothing setting it apart from the rest of the graves (besides the crowd). Apparently just after he died people were camping out there, writing all over his and other headstones, and generally making a mockery of an otherwise somber and respectful place, so there is plenty of security now.

After that we headed into Montmarte, past the famous Moulin Rouge, and over to a movie theatre for a little American therapy in the form of Hancock, which turned out to be a pretty good movie.

Monday we spent having a picnic below the Eiffel Tower. It was just me, Bill, and hundreds of other people. It was a beautiful day after several overcast ones, and it was such a great setting for a picnic, so I didn’t even mind being overrun by other tourists.

Yesterday we ventured outside of Paris to EuroDisney! It was kind of on a whim, and it ended up being so fun. We went to the EuroUniversal Studios adjacent to the park for some rollercoasters and overpriced burgers, and then into EuroDisneyland for more rollercoasters and overpriced food. EuroDisney is set up just like the one in Anaheim, but all the rides are the slightest bit different. It’s just not the same to hear pirates speak french.

Today was another great day; after a long breakfast we made our way to the Catacombs, which are right near our hotel. The story of the catacombs is that people were mining underneath Paris for stone to build up the city, but around 1815 it was prohibited. A few years later people living around a particular cemetery were contracting fatal diseases from it (hate to think of what the cemeteries of old were like), so it was exhumed, and all the bones of the dead were placed in the mines.

As you can imagine, it’s pretty creepy, especially when you’re walking through the dark, underground hallways with a boyfriend that enjoys scaring the bejesus out of you. Anyway...after several meters of dugout hallways you come to the entrance of the ossuary, and inside are the bones of literally millions of people. The hallway width varies, but it’s about 5 feet across, and the walls are about 5 feet high, lined with femurs and skulls in interesting designs. Behind that you can see all the rest of the other types of bones piled up and held back by the aforementioned femurs and skulls. These hallways go on for probably a quarter of a mile, with a small altar every now and then where they said a mass for those whose final remains were being placed in certain areas.

On our way out a security guard asked to check my bag, since I guess people steal bones? Eew. Anyway, seeing all those bones makes you work up an appetite, so Bill and I went to lunch, and ordered a big pile of ribs. Just kidding.

The Chateau in Bordeaux

We left Pamplona in a hurry with no place to go in Bordeaux. We pulled into town and ended up staying in an airport hotel that was awful. By some stroke of luck Bill found on the internet a Chateau just outside the city that was available for the next few days so we moved on quickly.

We drove north of Bordeaux through Bourg into serious wine country and the small town of Plassac. Our first view of the Chateau was from down below, and all we saw was a beautiful white castle. We drove up a narrow road and pulled into the Chateau Bellevue, which was even more immaculate up close.

We met Petra, a German living in France, who has owned and renovated the Chateau for about 8 years. It only opened as a bed and breakfast in April, so we were one of the first visitors. Also staying there was Petra’s daughter Mirja, her boyfriend Sebastian, and Petra’s friends Sabina and Jorg, all of whom were helping take care of the B&B in the first few months of its operation.

After we settled in we drove to nearby Blaye, where there was a weird carnival/festival that was pretty much deserted. Further along is the citadel which was built by one of the Henrys (VIII? XVI? Who knows?) to protect the shores of France, but now serves various purposes, like serving wine and crepes, and providing a beautiful setting for horse-jumping competitions. As you can guess, we drank some wine, ate some crepes, and watched a bit of a horse-jumping competition.

The next day we got a bit more adventurous and drove to St. Emilion, a small town about an hour away. While there we wandered the streets, did a little wine tasting, and watched as the Tour de France raced along. We ended up getting caught in the rain, so we headed back to our little Chateau.

The following day was French Independence Day, and Petra recommended that we follow them to a dune on the beach just south of Cap Ferret. We drove through a redwood forest and made our way to a huge dune (I’ve now seen a total of 1 dune, so I can only guess it was huge). From the top you can see the forest on one side, then straight down the middle it could be the Sahara, and on the other side were the clear blue waters of the Atlantic.

That evening they invited us to join them for a barbecue, and by this point it was just the 7 of us staying at the Chateau and the adjoining house, where Petra lives year-round. We had a fantastic dinner under the stars, and around 11:00 we heard the fireworks begin. We all made our way to the tower, which is the highest point of the Chateau, and could see at least 6 sets of fireworks going off along the horizon. It was a great night, spending French Independence with our new German friends.

The following day we drove back into Bordeaux for a bit of window shopping. There are so many stores there and so much to see, it was a lot like being in a large outdoor mall. The city is beautiful though. Bill and I had thought Bordeaux would be a small village lined with wineries, but the actual city is quite large and has been under renovation for some time, so it’s almost as bustling as Paris.

Wednesday was our final day at the Chateau, so we spent the morning at an outdoor market in Blaye, picking up food for a final barbecue before we left. When we got back we had nothing to do, so we did a whole lot of nothing. Just a bit of reading, sipping gin and tonics, and chatting with the Germans. We had a fantastic last dinner, complete with wine from the Chateau’s vineyard, and stayed up late in the night talking and enjoying what would surely be our last calm night in the country before moving onto Paris...

Pamplona: Not a Good Place to be If You're a Bull

I was going to title this one ‘Into the Madness: The Story of Pamplona,’ but after the bull fights Bill recommended this one that just seemed to fit. We went to Pamplona in time for the first day of the San Fermin festival, which honors some saint I’m not aware of with drinking a lot and killing bulls.

I’ll start at the beginning. Bill and I stayed just outside the city center and took a bus in on the first day of the festival. We wandered around a small area where the bus dropped us off and found some food that is native to the area, as well as some shops where we could buy the appropriate clothing (white shirt, white pants, red scarf, red sash). I thought to myself, ‘how lovely, this isn’t at all as crazy as I expected.’ Then we crossed the street.

Across the street and down an alley or two, we realized what we were in for. Crowds of people cluttered the narrow streets, all of them purple from being doused with sangria, which is apparently the thing to do. It’s actually so acceptable that when people dump buckets of it from balconies onto the masses no one really minds. All through the streets it was the same thing, people everywhere, wet with sangria, giggling like idiots. It was wonderful.

We ended up in a square where there was a little more room to breathe, and met some other travelers that we ended up hanging out with most of the night. Of course, Bill and I wanted to take part in the traditions of the festival, so we got some sangria, and before long we were involuntarily showered with purple by our new friends. It was a really fun night, but only until I realized I had been pickpocketed. Someone took off with my wallet, which totally sucks, but could’ve been worse. Moving on...

We got up nice and early the next morning to see the running of the bulls at 8am sharp. We left our hotel around 7, and reached the run at about 7:45. Unfortunately we were too late to get a good spot, but Bill held me on his shoulders, and I was able to see the back of one of the bulls. It was pretty anticlimactic.

The second day of the festival was much quieter, in fact, as we wandered away from the run there were people asleep all over the city. During the festival everything everywhere is closed besides liquor stores. There are no restaurants, no clothing stores, no grocery stores, nothing. It’s almost as if everyone just closes up shop and gets out of town. We were lucky enough to come upon some awesome paella though, so that kept us busy most of our second day in Pamplona.

That evening we got our tickets to the bull fights for the following night. We were pooped from a long day of eating and standing around so we decided to go to bed early and get up in time for the running of the bulls on the following day.

This next morning we were out of the hotel by 6:30 and made it to the run nice and early. There wasn’t much of a crowd, and Bill let me sit on his shoulders once again, so I got a decent look at the run this time. It was again pretty anticlimactic. The bulls come through at a slow trot surrounded by steer that keep the pace for them, and runners can easily avoid being gored by simply moving out of the way. I’ve heard it’s more treacherous toward the end as the bulls pick up speed on their way into the arena, where they run around with humans that taunt them. But we didn’t get that far.

We went home for a nice long nap before the bull fight that evening, and came back in time to check out the Ernest Hemingway statue just outside the arena. We made our way in and found our seats in the shady half of the arena. The sunny half is cheaper and much rowdier - pretty much the entire crowd across from us was covered in the telltale sangria purple.

The bull fights started promptly when several matadors accompanied by men on horses stepped into the ring to bow. When the arena was finally cleared the bull came charging out of a tunnel with some kind of tag stuck into it’s back, and we could see shining blood dripping from the spot. About 6 matadors take turns getting the bulls attention and then running behind walls that seem to really confuse the bulls. Eventually two men on blindfolded, armored horses make their way into the arena to distract the bull, and more often than not, the bull would ram the horse while the man stabs the bull with a long spear. Eventually the main matador makes his way out to the center of the arena with two short spears, and as the bull runs for him he quickly stabs it in the back and avoids the horns. He does this maybe 3 more times, until the bull is covered in blood with these spears sticking out of it's back.

Finally the matador faces the bull one on one with the infamous red cape. A good matador is one that doesn’t move his body, only the cape as the bull approaches. He keeps the bull going this way for about 5 minutes before brandishing a sword. The matador prepares for the bull to charge and just as it gets near enough he stabs it right between the shoulder blades. If the matador is a good one, the bull will die quickly, if not, they have to use several swords to finally kill it. The hardest part to watch is when the bull finally collapses to the ground while still fighting to stand. As it lays there another matador approaches it and stabs it several times quickly with a short knife right behind the ears. At the end 4 horsemen come out, attach the bull to a rope, and pull the lifeless body out of the arena.

There were actually 6 bullfights in the 2 hours that we watched, so we saw this process several times. They all went pretty much the same way, but the second matador was slightly gored (or maybe just grazed) on the side of his face, and was so sloppy he had to stab the poor bull 4 times before it finally died.

I respect that this is a tradition that’s been going on for years and years, but I don’t think I’ll ever need to watch it again. It’s hard to see an animal that doesn’t stand a chance slowly die a painful death. Bill and I were also surprised at how irreverant the atmosphere was. We expected the type of bull fights described by Hemingway where people are respectful of the bull and the tradition, and we were instead met by people dumping sangria on one another and impromtu marching bands playing college fight songs. It ended up being a pretty depressing experience, but one I’m glad we had.

Sitting just a few seats away from us were some of the people we met the first night of the festival, so we joined them for another evening that took us back to the first plaza for some fireworks, and onto some bars around the area. We met even more travelers, some that had hiked 500 miles on the St. James trail through Spain, and a few random people that just flew in for the festival. It was a late, fun night, and it made for a tough morning as we moved onto Bordeaux...

San Sebastian

San Sebastian is on the north coast of Spain, pretty close to the French border, so we had a long day of driving before reaching this beautiful little beach town. Little is definitely the right word too, it’s basically one long beach with a few blocks of city behind it.

We stayed at a hotel up a(nother) hill that had a great view of the bay. From there we took a lot of walks down to the beach, pretty much always searching for food. Unfortunately it was pretty rainy everyday that we were there, so we had to find other things to do besides enjoy the beach.

One day we went to the aquarium, which is very cool, though very small. The main attraction is a huge tank with sharks, turtles, stingrays, eels, and various fish that has a walkway through it, so you feel like you're underwater. Besides that, there are about 8 tanks of water for you to look inside with seahorses, jellyfish, and tropical fish. We saw the whole thing in about 15 minutes, so we just hung out in the underwater walkway for a while to get our money’s worth.

Another day we dedicated to doing our laundry, which was way overdue. It took a while, but we kept busy checking out local bars and their versions of tapas, some not so good.

Most of the nights after dinner we found ourselves at an outdoor bar that overlooked the bay and watched the tide come almost all the way up the beach. The view is superb - there are two sort of mountains that form the ends of the “C” that makes the bay, and between them there’s an island thats inaccessible by land. On the mountain to the right there’s a huge statue of Jesus (or so I think, we never made it all the way up there) that’s lit up until late into the night, and on the other two points we could see lighthouses flashing just the slightest bit in our direction every few moments.

Our crowning glory day was the only day that it was really sunny and warm, and it also happened to be the 4th of July. We made our way to the beach with deli stuff to make sandwiches and a little sangria. We spent a few hours just laying in the sun, sometimes diving into the cold Atlantic, but mostly just soaking up the good weather.

All in all, I would say that San Sebastian is a pretty great place to visit for a nice, quiet couple of days. Just make sure to check the weather patterns before you go.

Hola Barcelona!

I speak Spanish pretty fluently (I like to call it restaurant spanish) so on our way to Barcelona I asked Bill if there were any words or phrases he’d like to learn to say in spanish. He thought a minute and then asked how you would say, “Your offer flatters me, but I have a girlfriend.” Funny guy.

We made it to our hotel which was located on a street just off Las Ramblas, right near the marina and close to the center of the city. We were pretty exhausted when we got in, but we didn’t hesitate to get our hands on some sangria and tapas.

The second night we were there we learned that it was the San Juan Festival that same evening. Apparently this holiday is celebrated with lots of fireworks along the beach, so Bill and I decided to take a walk over there. All along the 20 minute walk we saw small explosions and flashes of light right on the street as people lit various fireworks.

When we finally got to the beach it was more insane than we could’ve imagined. There were people all over the beach, with small open areas where people were lighting fireworks. By people I actually mean young children, as there were literally toddlers lighting fireworks and tottering away. We were shocked that we didn’t hear more ambulances or see any limbs shot off. It was quite a sight.

The next day we found our way to La Pedrera, an apartment building created by Gaudi, that basically looks like a crazy jello mold was frozen in time. We were able to take a walk through one of the apartments as it would’ve been furnished in the 20s, then we went through the attic, and onto the roof. The whole building is so innovative and original, I’ll try and get some photos up here soon.

A few days after we arrived we met up with Bill’s cousin Tim, who was in the area for a genius convention or something like that. He was actually at a science conference his boss at Harvard, where he’s earning his PHD, sent him.  The timing worked out great for us to meet up with him.

It was so great to meet up with Tim. Right off the bat we took him down to the beach for his first dip in the Mediterranean. I don’t know if he was more excited by the sight of the beautiful beach or the huge number of boobs that can be seen along the sea coast. Either way, he enjoyed the beach, as did we. It was a quick stop before we took him to what we grew to think of as “our” tapas place for some good food and even better sangria.

That night was the (semi? quarter?) finals of the Euro Cup which saw Spain play some other country that I can’t seem to remember. Obviously it was riveting. It’s actually not so bad watching soccer, I hate watching just about every other sport, but this one is so straight forward - ball into goal. Besides that it lasts 90 minutes, more or less straight through; it’s not like football where the clock stops every 3 or 4 seconds. Also, we were in Spain watching Spain beat those other guys, so there was a lot of adrenaline in the bar we sat at which always makes a game more fun to watch.

The next day we rented bicycles and rode around the city. Our first stop was Sagrada Familia, a cathedral by Gaudi. As you can imagine, Bill and I were all Cathedraled out by this point in our trip, but this one is like nothing else.  Building commenced in the late 19th century, and won’t be done for a LONG time as it is built on donations, which at 8 Euro a person aren’t going to get them anywhere. It’s difficult to describe the cathedral, I'll throw on lots of photos, but what you need to know is that it will eventually be about twice as tall, and it is gorgeous.

After Sagrada Familia we took the bikes to Parque Quell, which is at the top of a very steep hill. I went ahead and stopped when I started seeing white spots and just walked the rest of the way, but Bill and Timmy, both gluttons for punishment, went almost the whole way. This park was also designed by Gaudi, and almost all of it is characterized by mosaics and various tributes to nature, as is so much of his work. If it weren’t for all the annoying tourists taking the same pictures, this park would be all kinds of awesome.

The next day was the day of the Jack Johnson show, which Timmy got us tickets for back in the states. It was at the Olympic Stadium, or so we thought, so a few hours before the show we decided to hoof it over, up another ridiculous hill. We walked for almost an hour before reaching the stadium, which was surprisingly empty. Yes we were an hour or two early, but we thought they should at least have a stage erected by now. A little asking around in broken spanish, and we learned that we were on the wrong side of Barcelona.

We set off down the hill in a different direction toward the subway, and while we were racing we still had time to take in the Olympic Stadium, the Palace (museum maybe? No time for details), and the Magic Fountain. Finally we made it to the subway, and were lucky enough to get on a train with other Jack Johnson fans that we could follow to the concert.

The concert itself was great - it started right on time with Mason Jennings who played solo on an acoustic guitar for about a half hour. After that was G. Love and the Special Sauce who put on a lively, energetic show. Finally Jack Johnson came out and played a nice long set, almost 2 hours by the time he took his final bow. It was so fun seeing one of my favorite artists in a foreign country with Bill and Tim, I’ll definitely remember it as a highlight.

The next day we said goodbye to Tim, but not before we took another trip to the beach. We were lucky enough to get hot weather the whole time we were in Barcelona, so the beach was a great relief. Also a great relief was finding burritos, which I’ve been craving since about a week into our trip.

Anyway, after we walked Tim to the subway we got some food and went back to our room to watch the final game of the Euro Cup - Spain versus Germany. Of course Spain won the whole thing, so we headed out to the streets to see just how mad it got there. Turns out, everyone was pretty excited! People were all over Las Ramblas, yelling and screaming, taking off shirts, dumping stuff on one another, climbing on stores, cars, and streetlights, and generally expressing their happiness of the Spanish victory.

It was pretty cool to be in Spain on such a big night, and it was a perfect end to our visit in Barcelona. The next day we hit the road yet again.

Nice is Nice but Monaco is Marvelous

The south of France has been good to Bill and I. We started out a little dismayed, but ended up stumbling upon some adventures and unexpected fun.

Our hotel was kind of a crap-hole, to put it nicely, and it wasn’t in a great part of the city. Our first night there we couldn’t seem to escape what we called the T-zone, or touristy area, and we were pretty sure we were going to hate this little city. When we finally got out to see the sights we were a lot happier with our predicament. Nice is a beautiful little town with lots of art all over and a sea side that is welcoming and beautiful.

Our first big venture out was to Monaco, also known as the most hoity-toity place on earth. We showed up mere mortals to a place where a bentley reeks of poverty and a yacht that doesn’t have maids isn’t quite ostentatious enough. Bill and I obviously fit right in. We took a long walk around the marina which was filled with the most ridiculous boats I’ve ever encountered. Most of them had a hot tub and numerous jet skis, and all of them had people hanging off all sides to clean them.

We made our way over to the beach area and saw that they were offering parasailing. I’ve always wanted to go and Bill had been once before, and we thought, when are we going to get the chance to go parasailing in Monaco again? So we made a reservation for the next day. For the rest of our day in Monaco we checked out Monte Carlo, bet and lost 2 euro, and drank 2 $15 Coronas.

Blah blah blah, on to the parasailing day.

When we got there the woman was sewing up our parachute. I was already nervous enough, and this put me just a little over the top. For those of you not familiar with parasailing, the person (or personS) parasailing are towed behind a speed boat with a parachute behind them that lifts them several stories in the air.

Mind you, I’m a wee bit afraid of heights and way more than a wee bit scared of open water, but I knew I had to do this or regret it forever. After the parachute was fixed(!) Bill and I were strapped into harnesses that were then attached to the parachute so we could go tandem. We were placed at the back of a platform that would inevitably spit us into the sea behind the boat we were tied to, and then we were told to hold onto a bar above our heads with one hand, and onto the rope for the parachute with the other. Our guide told us to just watch the boat, run with it, not too fast, but not too slow, and also, good luck.

Bill and I stood poised with our left feet in front of us, me holding on dearly to the appropriate places, and Bill smiling like a goof. As the boat took off so did Bill and I, running about 6 paces before being pulled off the platform and into the air. It was amazing how quickly we gained height, as soon as we were off the platform we were floating up with the parachute.

As nervous as I had been, once we were up I was sold. Parasailing is one of the most exhilerating (while still relatively safe) things in the world. It was amazing to be so high up in the air, over clear blue water, looking over the beach in Monaco.

As you might be able to tell, this experience was one of the highlights of our trip, for me anyway, so far. I think Bill would agree, it was pretty awesome.

We still had a few days left in Nice, and we took advantage by eating some great seafood and hanging around the beach. Our last night there happened to be the same night as a music festival. Throughout the day bands were setting up on various corners of random blocks, and by the time the sun went down there was live music wherever you walked. It was a great night for hearing music and doing a bit of people watching. Bill and I walked down to the beach which is close to the heart of the city, and there were hundreds of young people hanging out on the pebbly beach and the boardwalk above it. Over the sea the huge harvest moon was rising and reflected a bright orange strip on the Mediterranean. The whole night was memorable.

Before we left for Barcelona (where I sit writing this) we found out that there would be another music festival here this evening and from our hotel right off las Ramblas I can hear a drummer warming up, so I think I’ll say good-bye for now...