Waking up in the City of Rocks

At the Weare Town Library, there are several very old, and very used encyclopedias about the Southwest of the United States. While still in New Hampshire, I spent many nights reading about different National Parks, routes to explore, and sights not to miss. I came across a single interesting paragraph and a photo of The City of Rocks, New Mexico and worked it into my route.

New Mexico was hot and excited and felt like the start of a brand new trip if only because it is everything the East Coast is not. Without smart phones or reliable GPS, my FPIC (French Partner in Crime) and I arrived at the entrance of the City of Rocks by pure dumb luck. The roads leading to it it were dirt, the road signs were few, and it was the pitch black hour of 12am. We pulled in to search for our camp-site, which I called ahead to book. No one was working in the little office so we went off to find the site ourselves and check in, in the morning. After a half an hour of fruitless searching we found some other campers who invited us to stay in the site next to them and assured us that no one would might that we weren't in the right site. We pitched our tent, climbed inside and settle in for a sleepless, wind and thunder filled night. 

We work up the next morning in New Mexican Wizard of Oz. The sight that greeted us when I opened the tent the next morning was so shocking that I just sat and looked at it for a half hour. I would probably still be there in shock if I didn't have to get up to pee. We were alone. The helpful campers from the night before were gone and had left us as the sole campers in the emptiest, quietest place I have ever been.

The view that met me when I climbed out of the tent was nothing I could have ever imagined. In front of me,  there was an expanse of fields followed by rocky mountains in the distance. Behind me and surrounding the tent were huge boulders that looked like they had fallen from the sky randomly. There were no mountains, cliffs, or anything remotely rock nearby from which they could have fallen. They were just...there.

The city of rocks.

My FPIC had only planned to spend the night and leave in the morning. But we couldn't leave. Instead we spent the day exploring the rocks, climbing where we could climb and marvelling at the quiet. My FPIC wore a poncho and cowboy the whole day so he could be a cowboy. We learned that the poncho and cowboy hat not only looks cool, but also was practical in saving him from the sun. I got sun poisoning.

Sun poisoning aside, it was the perfect day.

What country is this again?

As a first time visitor to the southwest of the United States, I find myself surprised all the time. Sometimes it is hard to believe that I am still in the same country where I was born and raised. Here are a few things we have ran across when driving through Texas, New Mexico  and Arizona.

In Austin, TX, my French Partner in Crime (FPIC) and I were walking around the city to see what was what when we saw large groups of people gathering on a bridge. We walked over to investigate and found that there were also people waiting in the river in kayaks and gathering on the banks of the river. What was everyone waiting for? We asked and we found out that everyone was hanging around to see the nightly

Congress St Bridge, Austin, TX

occurrence where the 1.5 million bats that live under the bridge fly out for the night. We waited too, of course, and were thoroughly amazing when, right on schedule, 1.5 million bats began flying out from the bridge under us. It took a full ten minutes for them all to exit. Even after they had flown off, we could still see clouds of them off in the distance. It was a really unexpected, amazing sight, and the first time I have ever seen large groups of people waiting and watching in the opposite direction of a sunset.

When passing through New Mexico, we stopped at White Sands National Monument. I expected, with the name, that we would be seeing some white sand...what found was 275(!) square miles of white sand. It was amazing. The best part was when we ran into a couple and their pet camel. They live in the mountains around the sand dunes and liked to bring their camel down to play in the dunes about once a week. It is funny to stand in the middle of miles of white dunes and watch a camel lay down in the sand. I felt very far from home.



The difference between cactus and trees is that cactus do not give off shade. We drove around the campground next to Saguaro National Park, AZ about 6 times before realizing that there would be no getting away from the desert sun. We pitched our tent in record speed and left to find a place out of the 100 degree weather. We are not made for that kind of heat. Getting up early the next day was easy. No one ever tells you how loud the desert is in the morning. With an alarm clock of about 1804575 singing/screaming birds and other animals, we were able to get up, eat, pack and hike all before the heat of the day at 11am. After 11:00 we just took refuge in the visitor's center and learned about cactus while all the rangers told us we were lucky because it was cooler than usual for that time of year. Arizona is beautiful and I can't wait to see more of it, but if I lived there I would be dead after the first summer.

Hiked through Apache lands...

In the Southwest we also...

Camped out in the City of Rocks...

Crossed through some areas where, for miles, the only things we saw were
 ourselves and the dirt road we were driving on...

and witnessed both staged and real live(!) shoot-outs in Tombstone
and Tuscan Arizona. Yikes. 

That's all for today! More later.
-Laura

Houston, We Have a Problem

Hello!

On our road trip around the United States, my French Partner in Crime (FPIC) and I made a stop in Houston, TX to visit some friends.

Upon first glance, Houston does not really seem to have a lot to offer to a passing visitor. The city is very industrial with few places to walk around. Out of Google's "Top Ten Places to Visit in Houston", seven were shopping malls/plazas. Not too exciting for people who have a week to kill. Lucky for us, our friends and friends of friends had better advice than Google.

The best tip came from a night of trivia at the Front Porch, where your hamburger is barbecued for you on a grill out front. In between trying to guess order of Texas cities according to size and remembering the actors from Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, our teammate brought up Brazos...and we are glad she did.

Brazos Bend State Park is know for being home to alligators. We went expecting to read some signs and pamphlets, chat with a park ranger, and walk around. What we found out is that the park is know for alligators because it is FULL of alligators. It is hard not to spot them. And there is the thing...they are not barrier-ed off, or behind a fence or anything. They are just there living, and crazy people like us go and visit them. There are signs everywhere that say things like...
-Don't let your dog wander off or swim
-Stay away from tall grass
-Don't throw anything in the water
-Remember, alligators are fast
-Stay at least 30 feet away from the alligators

This last recommendation proved hard to follow. We were walking back on a trail when we came across an alligator right on the path, just waiting with it's mouth wide open. We were like, uh oh Houston...we have a problem. We couldn't get by without going past and we couldn't do past without coming within 4 feet of the open mouthed alligator. All we could do was wait and look at him looking at us.

Look at him! He is ready...

I am writing this blog now...so I have not been eaten, but I won't lie by saying I wasn't worried for a moment there. It certainly made for an interesting afternoon and a +1 for Houston. 

Until next time, Laura 

4 Cities in 4 Days

It has been one year since my French Partner in Crime (FPIC) and I moved to the north in Vermont. After months of -20 degree temperatures (Fahrenheit) and dealings with an insane downstairs neighbor, we decided that one year was enough. We have embarked on a journey across the United States in search of a new home. Monday, with a car full of snack and camping equipment, we headed south. Here are a few highlights so far from the road.

Day 1 - NH to Pittsburgh, PA (10 hours)

Why Thank you Pennsylvania! 

Our first day on the road we passed quickly through New England, stopping only for gas, until we reached Pittsburgh, PA. The city is small, with most of it's inhabitants living in the areas surrounding rather than in the city. Walking around after working hours leads to an "I Am Legend" feeling of being the last people living on earth. We stayed with a young couchsurfer host who does film work for reality and National Geographic television programs. He took us salsa dancing and gave us a late night history lesson from Mt. Washington, over looking the Pittsburgh skyline at night.

Day 2 - Pittsburgh to Nashville, TN (9 hours)

An Elvis sighting in Nashville 

We arrived in Nashville after what seemed like an endless drive through West Virginia, Ohio (very flat) and Kentucky (pretty and green). It poured rain but Nashville was still everything I wanted it to be with a blinking neon downtown area, streets of recording studios, cowboy boot shops, friendly people, good breakfasts, and a chance to hold a guitar and sing into a fake microphone at the visitor's center. Our couchsurfer host was a grad student getting her PhD in Anthropology with  the most cuddly dog imaginable. I wish we had had more time to spend in Nashville...maybe on the way back.    

Day 3 - Nashville to New Orleans, LA (8 hours)
New Orleans is a funny place. I was in constant conflict in deciding whether I loved it or hated it. It is awesome to wander around the French Quarter and see the cute buildings with their terraces and flowers but frustrating to be doing this with about 238472387 other people with cameras, sunhats and good walking shoes. The French Quarter lacked a bit of the authenticity I was looking for and seemed to be working only for tourist's benefit. It wasn't until we ventured out in search for sandwiches that we found a bit of "real" New Orleans with shops, restaurants and bars not filled with people who were taking pictures of themselves eating or drunk (or both). This part was very nice and I wish we had thought to do that sooner. I would visit New Orleans again, but I would want to make sure to stay with a local.

Day 4 - Western Louisiana
On our way to Houston, My FPIC and I meandered through the western part of Louisiana and stopped at a few historical sites. I am not sure if tourists are more rare through this area, but everywhere we went we were received with enthusiasm and more information than we could imagine. We visited one plantation where we planned to take a self-guided tour but ended up spending over an hour talking with the three women at the front desk. We got the whole history of the plantation plus their own lives plus a recommendation of enough things to visit in Louisiana to stay a month. Our next stop went similarly and we left with more stories, maps and recommendations to stop by a music festival that was nearby. We stopped by Lafayette to visit the festival expecting to see a few local bands and maybe some food stands...but instead we found that this was the 27th International Festival of Louisiana! There were 6 stages playing with different bands from around the
world every hour for five days. We saw an excellent

group from Israel, some break-dancers, rows and rows and artisan vendors and a funny group from our next of the woods in Quebec wearing kilts and playing violins and accordions. Instead of just dropping in we ended up staying the whole afternoon and not wanting to leave. We even got interviewed by a local newspaper guy who saw our NH license plate and wanted to know if we had driven all that way just for the festival (sadly no but we might consider it next year). It was great and I consider it to be the best part of our voyage so far.

Stay tuned as we head off to Texas and even more off the beaten trail!
<3 br="" laura="" nbsp="">

Westward Bound

Because of my seemingly endless unemployment...my FPIC and I have decided to take advantage of this time off and take the trip we have always dreamed of. We plan to pack hiking boots, tents, lots of pasta, a few maps to go and find the next place to work and live.

Stay tuned...we take push off next week.  

Let's Go Outside...It's Not a Nice Day

I knew that it would be a cold winter in the north of Vermont. Having grown up in New Hampshire, I had no romantic notions about the upcoming winter weather and gathered my collection of winter clothes in preparation. I was surprised, however,  to discover just how enthusiastic the locals get about the winter. It seems that the farther north you go, the more people you find outside...and I am not just skiing.

During an online search of the Northeast Kingdom winter carnival, I stumbled on a picture of a castle made completely out of ice in Quebec. It seemed so cool that I proposed an impromptu weekend to Quebec to my FPIC and within a few hours had found us a couchsurfing host. We bundled up, packed all our blankets (our car's heater is broken) and headed north. Our host was an engineering student with long hair and a hammock in his living room, who's only response to the freezing temperature was to say he was wearing long underwear. Within minutes of meeting him, he invited us to an improv show which was hilarious mostly because neither my FPIC or I had a clue what was going on through the strong Quebecois accents.

Our first day in Quebec was mostly spent shopping due to the fact that it was impossible to stay outside longer than ten minutes. We braved the weather long enough to visit the ice castle (so cool) and nearly died waiting in line to try out a luge track (totally worth it). We returned back to our host's house to find he had arranged a dinner of spaghetti and Canadian bacon for us and his water polo team (not joking). We spent the rest of the night discussing Canadian health care and watching memorable water polo clips on Youtube.

Our last day in Quebec warmed up to over 0 degrees (F) and we were able to explore a bit more. Our host took up to see the Montmorency Falls. The waterfall was frozen except for a light mist that froze on contact with our jackets and soon left us encased in light capsule of ice that cracked when we moved. The result meant that even though we were standing at the bottom of the falls, we did not get wet until we mistakenly went inside to use the bathroom and our ice covering melted.



The best outdoor winter activity I have ever seen was found at the Quebec winter Carnival. We had just about finished wandering around looking at the ice sculptures, drinking free hot chocolate, marveling the outdoor ice bar that served wine in cups made of ice, and gawking at the dancers who had their tutus and scarves strategically sewn onto heavy woolen pants and snowgear; when we found Human Foosball!

Picture if you will, people wearing red and blue jerseys over their winter jackets, strapped to long poles by pieces of seat-belt, and standing on glare ice and you will have the best sport ever invented. My FPIC and I tried a couple of rounds. It is funny to play a sport where you fall if your teammate falls and your movement is limited by your own winter pants. I don't think I have laughed so much ever.



We returned back to our car and headed back to Vermont with a new appreciation for the cold and a bag of M&M's frozen so hard they could be used as weapons.

Before I end, I want to share one last gem from Vermont. While walking on the lake by our apartment one day (because walking on a lake is a normal activity :)) we found something odd frozen into the lake. Now what is something that you would only ever find while walking on a lake in Vermont? Why an empty gallon jug of maple syrup of course.

That is all for today! :)

It's Not the End of the World

On the day the world was scheduled to end, I was in an airplane. I figured that there was no better way to tempt fate than to take an international flight that involved three different airplanes and stops in four different countries. As we all know, the world did not end, so instead of having a front seat view from the air of the world imploding, I was stuck in an airport in Toronto.

Although I am not new to transcontinental flying, this was my first time traveling at Christmas. I was tightly scheduled to take a bus from New Hampshire to Boston where I would catch my plane that went from Boston to Toronto Canada, Toronto to Frankfurt Germany, and Frankfurt to Brussels Belgium where I would be picked up by my French Partner in Crime (FPIC) and drive south to Lille, France to visit his family for the holiday.

The only problem was that my flight from Boston never left. In fact there were no planes available on any AirCanada flights as they were all stuck in a giant snow storm in Montreal. By the time I got to Toronto, my flight to Germany had left long before without me and my only option was to wait in line with all the other lost passengers to speak with someone who could put me on another flight. For two hours. You make friends when you wait in a line for two hours. I became very friendly with a lovely family of five who were coming from Victoria and heading to Norway to visit family, a nice German girl who was heading home for the holiday, and an American guy who was trying to make it to London to see his girlfriend. We swapped travel horror stories and complimented each other on being insane enough to get into international relationships.

When it was my turn at the front I was informed that the next flight to Frankfurt was the next day. I quickly explained that I didn't care about going to Frankfort as long as my final destination was Brussels. The lady then said there was a flight to Munich in 10 minutes and if I ran I could make it on that flight. I ran.

In Munich I found I had to wait six hours for a flight to Brussels. The only thing to do was have 9 cups of complimentary coffee, attempt to read a German newspaper and fall asleep on a bench across from 5 Spanish guys doing the same thing. The best part of the trip came when it was time to board. The stewardess came on and said..."the boarding of the flight to Brussels will be delayed because we have no plane and we have no crew".

Fair enough. We'll wait.

A bit more concerning was when she came back an hour later and said..."we found a plane and will begin boarding as soon as I check to see if the captain is ok"...and then shuttled us out on the tarmac to the very end of the airstrip to a tiny plane that we boarded via stairs. I had many questions. Where did they find this plane? What happened to the captain?

I finally arrived in Belgium, a little late, ragged and without luggage.  My FPIC was there to greet me, laughed at my lack of bags, and took me to have a hot wine and a waffle. I decided I like Brussels.

We then drove to Lille, bought me some clothes for Christmas and spent a very lovely time with my FPIC's family. The Pere Noel came and put presents in my shoes, we ate a buche de Noel, and shared wine from the year I was born. It was a Christmas just like my grade school French lesson book described.

Ok, enough talking. I would like to share a bit of travel advice before I end this. Lille, France is amazing. It is old and beautiful and colorful. It is filled with amazing shops, wonderful cafes, and very friendly people. I would argue that it is better than Paris. I would recommend anyone who has a soft spot for European charm to visit Lille. Even though it was rainy and cold, I loved every part of it.

That's all for today.
Thanks for reading.

Ferris Wheel in Lille Set up for Christmas

Streets of Lille 

Lille Train Station

One of me learning to ski...you may notice that I am not actually in this picture. That is because I learned to ski wearing a bright red, full body snowsuit that my FPIC wore when he was 14 and do not wish to share the photos of me. Not only was I a beginner on the french slopes, but I was easy to spot. 

When the Green Mountain State is Not Green

Hello all!

Living with a person who was born on a different continent than you means that there is never a lack of things to talk about. A common topic of interest between my French Partner in Crime (FPIC) and I is always the use of space in different countries. 

We have come to the conclusion that in Europe, specifically France, it is impossible to go for any length of time without coming across a town. All are quaint, complete with a town square, church, and local bar. People live very close together. In the United States, especially the north of Vermont, it is possible to drive for hours or days without seeing much and interaction with other humans is optional. 

While the majority of the time, my FPIC and I would like a bit more population up here in the north of Vermont (we once drove 2 1/2 hours one way just to eat Chinese food and go to a T.J. Maxx) we wouldn't have the Autumn in Vermont any other way. In France, the mountains are full of skiing resorts, touristy villages, chalets, and mountain farms, but the mountains in Vermont are completely uninterrupted. The view of miles and miles of hills covered in colorful trees is breathtaking - even to someone who grew up in New England.

 I would 100% recommend to everyone: pack a lunch, make sure you have a full gas tank and a well-functioning car, bring some warm clothes, and get lost in the north of Vermont in Autumn. 

Here are some Vermont-y photos for your viewing pleasure. 

No ski resort here.

A New England Home

The rest area as you enter the Northeast Kingdom boasts that there are 13 covered bridges to visit in the area. I laughed at this, but you can't deny that these bridges have a certain charm. 

The lovely town of Newport

That's all today folks! Until next time.

I Ain't Them There City Folk No More

Greetings again from the Northeast Kingdom!!

I wanted to share a little story from the news in my new way-up-north home. Life moves pretty slowly here, but when there is news, it really gives people something to talk about.

Recently a local man from my town decided that he was very angry with the police. Now like any person, this man decided to show the police just how angry he was, and did so in true Vermont fashion. He went over to our little police station and drove over and completely flattened, not 1, not 2, but 7 police cars with his tractor!

The funniest part of this story is not the fact that there was a rogue man seeking revenge with his tractor. It is that after the fact, the police did not have any means to chase the man with and were forced to run after the tractor on foot and used hitchhiking pursue him faster. The poor police ran after him and thumbed a ride in order to catch up with him.

The newspapers printed articles the next week saying "Angry Farmer crushes Cop Cars" and "Derby has a new Hero". There was actually a town-wide fundraiser to raise the money to bail him, so beware all. If you are in the Northeast Kingdom, watch out that your car is not squashed in a high speed chase between tractor and running cops.


To have a bit of a laugh...check it out in video...
http://news.ninemsn.com.au/world/8510622/man-drives-tractor-over-seven-police-cars

Living on the Edge

Hello All! As usual, I apologize for the long delay in posts. In my latest "Laura Leaves New Hampshire" adventures, I have been exploring the exotic and very foreign...Vermont. Ok, yes I admit that Vermont is not  much of a stretch in a travel blog about leaving New Hampshire, but that is where I am and so the adventure continues. . :D

My French Partner in Crime (FPIC) has been very lucky to land a job in DERBY LINE, VERMONT. The closest you can possibly get to Canada without actually getting to Canada. I have found a map to demonstrate it's location (below). 

 

Photo Credit: http://www.idcide.com/citydata/vt/derby-line.htm

The town is so much on the border that the gas station doubles as customs, border patrol cars are more frequent than police cars, and it contains the world's only library that is located in two countries at the same time (and in the Canadian side has books in French). 

It was while I was dropping my FPIC off at work one day (at 7am mind you) that I really experienced this border. I thought while I was in the town I would visit this world famous library. While I was circling it, looking for parking, I drove over a single white line in the road. 

Shoot. Was that the border? 

I turned around and was immediately approached by a border control officer who told me I was going to have to go check in at customs...after my visit to Canada. 

Damn

So I made my way over to the customs/gas station and pulled up to the window. 

Me: Um, I accidentally drove into Canada and the border patrol told me to come check in here. 

Him: What was your reason for visiting Canada?

Me: I was looking for parking at the library. 

Him: How long was your visit?

Me: About thirty seconds. 

Him: May I see your passport?

Me: I do not have my passport. 

Him: What is your business in the area?

Me: I was dropping my FPIC off at work and wanted to see the library. 

At which point the officer decided that there was no point in further questioning, issued me a citation for traveling to Canada without a passport and let me go. All I can say is that I better not move to the border between the US and Mexico. I can just see me now...um excuse me officer...I just accidentally went to Mexico...

I never did get to see the library...

I do believe this is a promising start to the shenanigans of  life (however temporary) in Vermont  

 Stay tuned. 

~Laura 

One of the more obvious Canadian/american divides...more official then where I was driving around. lol 

Photo Credit: Memphipogo's Blog http://memphipogo.wordpress.com/photos/

On the Road Again

Hello all!

The adventures of "Laura Leaves NH" continue as my French Partner in Crime (FPIC) and I are relocating again. This time from the Basque Country to Vermont, USA. Although, admittedly Vermont is not that far away from New Hampshire, we are determined to make the best of this opportunity.

It is very sad to leave Pais Vasco. Last week we packed up our apartment and tried to do all of the things we have come to love at least one last time. I have compiled this list of things that everyone should do when moving away from this region. This list can also double as recommendations for those visiting for the first time.

THINGS TO DO BEFORE LEAVING:

1. Eat some torilla de patatas (Spanish omelette made with potatoes).

2. Visit the beach.

3. Say goodbye to all the barmen in the bars on your block.

4. Take a ride through the mountains.

5. Eat some more tortilla de patatas, but this time in a sandwich.

6. Visit all the elderly people who frequent the bars and buy you cider.

7. Watch your last soccer game in the bar.

8. Eat some last tapas from the bar.

9. Realize that this is the last place you will probably ever live where a glass of wine is 45 cents.

10. Realize that you probably spend too much time in bars.

11. Realize that you will never really learn to speak Basque.

12. Dispose of your collection of umbrellas that have been destroyed in the crazy Basque wind/rain storms.

13. Stock up on bags of fried corn (very tasty!)

14. Eat some more tortilla.

15. Swear you will be back again.

In our panic about leaving Spain, we also drove like mad to the east coast to visit Barcelona before we left the country. This is a very fun city! We stayed in a hostel by the beach and shared a room with some Spanish girls and a few guys from Israel and visited all the sites! I highly recommend going to see Gaudi's works here (Sagrada Familia, Park Guell and my favorite, Casa Batllo) but also would caution about walking around at night. It's the first place where I have ever been happy that I had a man with me for protection.

Below are some photos!

First, the famous unfinished (expected to be finished soon, in 2050 or so, haha) Sagrada Familia.

Second is the Barcelona coast at sunrise (which we only saw because we had to move the car out of the paying parking zone before they started charging on Monday morning. Totally worth it though.)

That's all today friends! Until next time!

Backpacks

Ok so I know I have blogged about backpacks before, but... backpacks excite me.

After hoofing it over Peru with a little LLBean school backpack and feeling ridiculous, I made it a goal to find a proper backpacking backpack before my next adventure. While cleaning a friends attic one summer I found an old abandoned Northface backpack that suited me well. I made it to and from Nicaragua and to France before its years in the attic caught up with it and it ripped straight up the side. I tried to sew it, but no success.

After that, I abandoned the old Northface and wandered around Spain, using again my little purple backpack.

But!

Over Christmas a wonderful thing happened. My French Partner in Crime (FPIC) and I made took the long trip up from our little apartment in Eibar to his parents house in France. They had seen my old abandoned ripped and dry rotted backpack and surprised me with a new one! It is the most beautiful thing! Sturdy, with lots of pockets and straps and is the perfect size.

I dream about this backpack sitting in my closet while I work in the old basement mailroom in my school. It teases

me when I open my closet and to get out clothes for work. But now! It will be making it's debut, as my FPIC and I continue our tour of Spain and take on Barcelona! I am so excited. Stay Tuned. :D

Isn't she beautiful? :D

An Ode to My Favorite Shoes

In Boston's old city, they began their bright story,

by walking for charity,

they marched miles, forty.

Past the Charles and Fenway, and by jamaica pond,

to Canton and Roslindale and then journeyed on.

For stop two, headed west, pit stop San Fransisco

traveled north to the redwoods,

in yosemite did a disco.

They hiked past the half dome before continuing north,

then paused in Seattle to see the fisherman's wharf.

Then they changed their direction by voyaging south,

caught the sands of north Chile,

to seek public health.

They heard babies hearts and gave children candies,

then took a long break to trek up the Andes.

Checked Peru and then Canada soon of the list,

dodged riots enroute to Cuzco,

and awed Machu Picchu's mist.

Montreal's nice in March though there is quite a chill,

these shoes biked all the bridges and sleded the hill.

Off to France these shoes wandered for a new kind of pace,

run around through the Alps,

and gazed on Mt. Blanc's face.

They raced the french cows to prove all their power,

After, strolled by the seine and viewed eiffel's tower.

On the way down down to Spain, a glum event did transpire,

These shoes found a hole,

And were forced to retire.

Although it's quite sad because my shoe's life was neat,

I'm lucky this time, as I still have my feet.

Plaza Jacinto Olabe

Because I am lacking a daily life post, I thought I would update on what happens in our little town normally.

I am making up for my years of living in an all girls dorm at an all girls school by living in a shared apartment with 5 guys. Apart from my French Partner in Crime (FPIC) there are two men from Pakistan, one from Romania, and one from the southeast of Spain, as well as occasionally our retired fish-salesman landlord. We get along all pretty well and surprisingly there are rarely fights over the bathroom. We have no oven, the dryer and dishwasher are permanently broken and there are bars on the windows of our kitchen, but I have come to love this apartment more than I ever thought I could.

A day that really describes live in this part of Pais Vasco is the other weekend. It was a calm, sunny Sunday and my FPIC and I were eating breakfast when a parade went by our window. We dropped everything, excited, ran after it and followed it down into the little city center. In the center there was a giant tent set up. Inside there were 3 long tables set up with about 35 people along each table cooking fish in giant pans. It was a fish cooking competition. Each competitor had to use the same kind of fish and the same oil. We wandered around for awhile watching the people shaking their pans and standing around drinking wine. After awhile, my FPIC asked one competitor if there was going to be a time when the people watching could taste the fish. The man said that all the people belonged to different societies (like shriners except with women and children too) and that the fish was eaten in the different societies, but if we came back later we could try his. When we came back he said we were invited back to his society to hang out and have lunch, so after the judging (our guy came in 4th) we headed up the hill, with the 27 other people of this society, to eat. At a big long table with the women and children sitting at one half and the men on the other half , we sat and ate a ton. There was salad and rice and tomatoes with garlic, the competition fish (which was really good) a course of venison and then a course of beef, followed by dessert and accompanied with lots of wine and digestivos. Everyone was amazingly friendly and chatty. At about 6:30pm we finally left and made our way back to our apartment where we found our half eaten breakfast, just as we had left it, hours earlier.

Days like this happen a lot, where we stumble on festivities in town or people invite us and treat us like family. Although were we live is really not a nice looking town, it has in it some of the warmest and most welcoming people that I have ever met.

Also! I hosted my first Thanksgiving! The family of my FPIC and one of our roommates all joined in on my semi-authentic American Thanksgiving. I cooked a stuffed chicken and pie in a toaster oven, made my grandmother's stuffing recipe (enough meant for a 20lb turkey for a little 2kg chicken oops), and served the gravy in a coffee cup, but the evening was wonderful and I think I can call my first ever Thanksgiving a success.

Until next time folks!


PS. Another festival, of Saint Andres, where the women and children dress up and go out in tradition clothing and then I awkwardly try to take pictures of all of them. :D

When Everything Goes South...

Hello All!! The Spanish adventure continues! I recently had the opportunity to explore a little of the south. Here is a little rough map of my route.





I have been struggling with writing this post because there was so much fit into just 11 days. Rather than boring you with all the details, I decided that just a photo summary and some travel tips will do. So here goes...

As is with all normal jobs, after a month and a half of being in Spain, both my French Partner in Crime (FPIC) and I took advantage of some local holidays and time off from work to explore the south of Spain. On a Friday afternoon we packed up our little green Peugeot and headed first to Toledo by way of Madrid.

Stop 1: TOLEDO
Toledo is a beautiful old city. You have to pay to go in most of the churches, sites, etc...but it is just as nice to wonder around the streets or do as we did and go sword shopping.

Stop 2: GRANADA AND THE SIERRA NEVADAS
After having seen every sword in the city of Toledo, we continued our route south to Granada. (Note to my dad: I drove this part).

We didn't really do Granada justice. We got very lost. It was a rainy morning and the tickets to Granada's biggest attraction were sold out (the Alhambra - get your tickets early folks). We decided to forget Granada all together and drove into the mountains instead. We spent the afternoon hiking in the Sierra Nevada mountains. It was windy and freezing but beautiful and perfect. I am sure Granada is a lovely place, but once we left into the mountains instead, we didn't look back.

Hiking in the Sierra Nevadas

Stop 3: TABERNAS
We have a love/hate relationship with our GPS. It spends most of it's time trying to get us onto the most expensive highways and taking the longest routes possible. When we don't follow it's directions it looks like this.

But on the route from Granada to Tabernas it decided to play nice and took us on the most beautiful road. The road took about 2 hours longer than the GPS predicted, but it was so gorgeous that we really didnt care. Much of it looked like this

Sleeping in Tabernas for the night was an interesting experience. The whole time the people in this liitle town were giving off a very staring uncomfortable vibe. It was as though they had never seen anyone from outside their city before, but when they looked at us they seemed to be more secretly cannibalistic than curious. I didn't sleep very much that night.

The next day we went out to find these old towns where Hollywood used to film westerns (and some of Indiana Jones). My FPIC had been dreaming to visit this place ever since he was a little French boy. It took us a bit longer to find one of these old western town than we thought because they happen to be owned by some of the most unfriendly men I have have ever seen. We had to search around but we finally found one. Once there, we were able to recreate all of my FPIC's western fantasies of having gun fights and pushing the doors of the old saloon. I recommend visiting here if you have younger children or an overly enthusiastic French man with you...the road to Tabernas is beautiful and makes the trip worth it, even if the final destination is a little lacking.

Stop 4: NERJA
I dont have a good picture for this place but it is well worth a visit. There is beach, sea, and caves. Also we slept not in the car for the first time of the trip. And showered which is good

Stop 5: GIBRALTAR
The rock of Gibraltar!! This was a fun sight to see enroute. You have to cross a border into Britain to get there, but we were happy just to take photos from Spain. You can also see Africa from here!!

Stop 6: RONDA
The route to Ronda from Gibraltar ran through the mountains and had lots of little white villages throughout like this one...

The thing that Ronda is known for is the birth of bull fighting. Although I am not pro-bull fighting, I did enjoy going into the Plaza de Torros. If you stand in the middle and stomp your feet around there is a really cool echo.

Also to see in Nerja is this huge bridge. You can actually get under it into the gorge on this little path if you jump over a fence and...

















Stop 7: SEVILLA

















There is really only one way that I can sum up Sevilla. It is beautiful and wonderful and we had planned to stay only one night and ended up staying 4. Also we will be moving there next.

Stop 8: TRUJILLO




This a cool little village to visit. We stop enroute from Sevilla to Madrid. There are huge nests from storks on the old church. Also we bought the worst wine of our life here...but they have really good cheese.









Stop 9: MADRID

Happened upon Madrid on Halloween night and they were for sure celebrating it there. We didn't really stay long as we planned to pull an all nighter back to Eibar (but ended up sleeping somewhere in the car) but this short visit was busy and very eventful.

Stop 10: back to EIBAR

Were welcomed back to Pais Vasco by being serenaded on the radio in Euskara. :D It's good to be back

Until next time all!