How I Met Your Miserable...

The Good, the bad, and the ugly.

The Good: The Broadway strike ends today! Whew!

The Bad: We had to say goodbye to my family's precious dog yesterday. She had been sick so it's not a huge surprise but I'm mad at myself for not going to see her over the weekend.

The Ugly: A woman was in the store earlier today asking for Advent calendars, which we didn't have. She filled out a comment card suggesting we get them and left her email address on it. A couple hours later we actually got some Advent calendars in! Too funny! I sent her an email, she replied asking if we could send them to her, I replied explaining shipping costs, she called the store, asked specifically for me, told me how sweet it was of me to email her... and proceeded to chew me out for our "ridiculous" shipping charges. I know I don't have my head back in the game 100% but this was so unreasonable I almost just hung up on her. I had gone out of my way to help her find what she was looking for and then she went out of her way to be ugly to me. Merry Christmas!

Home again.

It happened last year when returning from Ireland, but I am amazed at how easily we fall back into our life at home. It didn't feel strange at all. With the delay and claiming checked luggage (we almost could have carried on but decided not to push it) we didn't get home until about 7pm. We did some laundry, ordered an Amici's pizza for delivery, watched some Heroes (the Tivo is full and has been for at least a week) and went to bed around 9. I tried to post the three blog entries I had finished on the plane, I got two of them up and then suddenly found myself waking back up with the third one still on the Blogger screen. I had fallen asleep with my laptop on my lap, in bed. Guess I was exhausted, can't imagine why. I can't even tell you how good it felt to get into my own bed. We had some pretty good beds on this trip but nothing compares to our own. We both woke up around 3:30am and bad memories of the first couple nights of sleep in Zurich made me a bit nervous, but we drifted back off pretty easily. I think I got about ten or eleven hours of sleep. I feel great and it's wonderful to be home. But damn, I don't want to get out of this bed!

Fear of Flying.

Last year on the way home from Ireland, something happened on our flight that one of the attendants called the worst thing to happen to her in thirty years of flying. It was our JFK to SFO leg, things started getting bumpy, and the captain had everyone buckle their seat belts and even advised staying out of the bathrooms. Turbulence didn't really bother me, but who really likes a situation like that? Suddenly it felt like the plane had hit a tree, and we dropped. We free fell for what we guess was something like 3 full seconds. Anything not strapped down went in the air, all the papers in the back pockets of seats, all the beverages, and all the flight crew. It was terrifying. It felt like we recovered, but we weren't at a window so it was hard to see what was going on. Drama queen that I am, I asked CF, "Are we going down?" He didn't really answer. I'm very proud of that fact that in that moment I thought myself, "It's all going to be okay." I wasn't scared, I was with CF, and whatever (and I do mean whatever) happened, it was all going to be okay. I was snapped back into reality by an apology over the intercom from the captain, he felt awful but we were back in control. Everyone on board appeared to be okay, even the six foot tall male flight attendant who I had to look away from when I saw him hit the ceiling. Later I saw a man behind on in the plane with an ice pack on his head, I wonder if something hit him or if he didn't have his belt on. Someone's drinking water was dripping on me from the ceiling, but the attendants had their hands full with more important business and I certainly wasn't going to unbuckle to stand up and take care of it! I covered up with my blanket and just let it drip until it was gone. When I did have the guts to stand up and go to the restroom I found my legs were still shaking, I hurried back to my seat as quickly as possible and belted in tight. When we landed everyone clapped, and I thought everything would go back to being the way it was.

Two weeks later when we pushed back from the gate on a Southwest flight to go to Vegas for a friends wedding I found out I was wrong. The moment the plane moved in the slightest way I was gripping the arm rests with white knuckles. Welcome to my new fear of flying. And what a flight to discover it on! Landing in Vegas is a bumpy ride due to the hot air rising off the desert. Everyone else was chatting and laughing, excited about their visit to Sin City. Me, if it had gotten any worse I was going to cry. I requested a large cocktail the minute we got off the plane. I didn't get it right away but later in the evening CF bought me a $20 monstrosity resembling a volcano, complete with dry ice steaming in the middle. But the fear of flying has stuck with me. I am one of the worst people to have to sit next to in turbulence, just ask my dear friend MP who flew to NYC with me last January.

So yeah, I hate flying. Which sucks because I love traveling. The first leg of our journey home we had seats about three rows from the back of the plane. It was a bumpy ride but the seat belt sign never went on, I forced myself into a little meditation and stayed calm the whole time. CF thought I had been asleep and hadn't noticed, since usually I am such a pain about it. We landed in Frankfurt, found our gate number for our connection, we had an hour and a half layover. But as we made out way in that direction we heard an announcement for passengers of our flight to go to that gate. We got a bit scared that our flight had been moved up and we were going to miss it, like what had happened to the Z's on the way to Europe. We had to go through security again, just like the last time we passed through Frankfurt. The line was backing up and moving irritatingly slow. I was clever enough to be the first to notice a new line opening and I scooted CF's and my stuff over there quickly. They were being extra rigid with the screening, which is probably why the line was so backed up. CF's small can of shaving cream was closely inspected. He didn't want to appear too desperate but he did offer to discard it if it was going to be a problem. I wondered why he hadn't put it in his plastic bag of liquids, but it turns out that was the closest thing to liquid he was even bringing home. I thought we were finally in the clear but then a woman said something scary to me in German. "I'm sorry?" I said in English, I wouldn't have known what to say in German even if I had the wits about me enough to remember what country I was in. "Take all your belongings and follow me," she translated for me. Oh no. Well it didn't take too much longer but my camera got an extra special close inspection. When she was almost done inspecting it the zoom on the lens started to move and just for a second I could see a little bit of worry on her face. She wouldn't have been able to take down to me so well if she broke my camera, now could she?

We sort of wanted to stop to finally get some food, but we still weren't sure what was up with our flight. We walked past crowded Air India gates and lines for the restrooms, people everywhere! We finally found out gate and found rigid passport control and tons of people. It was pretty crazy. The people checking passports asked us, "And what have you bought at the airport today?" I heard one woman snip, "Nothing, I've been in line the whole time!" Eventually we boarded, but there were latecomers who were checked in but not boarded so we were missing our scheduled departure time. A woman traveling with her cute little baby sat down next to me, but we're in the row behind the bulkhead row and it turned out that's where they were supposed to be sitting, so my little friend is out of eyesight right now. Then the dreaded announcement came that someone who had checked baggage had not boarded. They had to pull their bags off the plane, and everything was already loaded. So we waited and waited. Then there was trouble putting all the luggage back on. People groaned and booed. CF said, "I can tell already this is going to be quite a flight." People were getting cranky and a little rude at one another. The flight crew did what they could to keep the peace. I whispered to CF, "The man across the aisle from you is wearing a checked pattern shirt with skinny dark lines, and it perfectly matches the pants of the woman behind him." Yes, I am overly observant. He laughed. "Do you love it?" I asked him. It really was pretty funny. We imagined it was actually one outfit that they had somehow agreed to share. At least we were amusing ourselves while waiting for one of the most chaotic and cranky planes I've ever seen to take to the sky.

So I'm typing this as I flying somewhere over Canada. There's about four hours left until we land and the only movie I cared to see has already played. I am sorry to have caught up with my blog finally because that leaves me with nothing else to do! I will say though that I found a fantastic distraction from turbulence, a movie musical! They were showing Hairspray earlier. It was pretty good expect John Travolta was terrible and they cut one of my favorite songs. I am thrilled to be going home right now. I do miss it. But I am anxious to see what the next couple weeks will bring. I expect to have a crazy holiday season at the store. We'll be seeing friends again soon, there are plenty of holiday parties and plans. Here comes "real life." I don't know what the last five weeks were, if they weren't real life.

Thanks for reading along, I thought it was just my mom, my sister and Ms. D when she wasn't here with me. But I'm getting the impression that there are more of you than I thought. I can't believe I actually journaled about the whole trip. I've never kept it up so long, and this was also the longest duration of travel I've managed yet. Sorry for constantly rambling, I'm sure there were times when you wondered if I had ever heard of editing. But I was musing on memories for myself, as well as letting you all know what we were up to.

Now I'm wondering what I should try to blog about from home. I started this blog early last year and posted a thousand times but kept going back and deleting. I guess my blogging, much like my life, is a bit lacking in aim. So I can't say what will be appearing on this page in the coming weeks. Any advice or requests? Regardless, I've had fun doing this travel journal. Thanks again.

Good things come to an end, Part II.

On our last morning in Barcelona, the beginning of the last day of our great European adventure, Ms. D and I decided we had one last "tourist attraction" in us. We decided to pay the 16.50Euros to go inside the Casa Batllo. It really was incredibly cool to see. I guess it's hard to imagine what it was like with all the furniture in there and people living their every day lives. But I think it had to have been pretty wonderful! The whole thing is so organic, every wall swooped and curved, and really, there isn't a straight line to be found. Add that to Gaudi's devotion to building in good air circulation (the doors all had grates so air could flow from room to room) and you've basically got my perfect space.

We wandered a bit, did a last round of shopping (D finally found herself an extremely flattering new coat), and sat down to another fantastic tapas meal at the restaurant we had started at the night we arrived. It was so good we had said we'd love to get to try it again, and we were all pretty pleased that we managed to make it happen. After lunch CF headed back to the apartment for a nap, he left me with the map he had been holding and reading all week and told me to be careful. I really had wanted to do a bunch of Christmas shopping, but everything I encountered had been made in India and therefore didn't make a great gift from my current travels, so I didn't feel like it was worth the Euros. So instead of shopping I just took myself for one last walk. Sometimes I still can't believe that a little girl from Davis can find herself strolling through unfamiliar European neighborhoods. The sun was starting to go down, I spotted the Arc de Triomf and realized I was closer to home than I was to a convenient metro stop. So I settled on walking home with all the other people of the city, I still love that I can slip into so many people's worlds, just for a moment.

The day we had arrived here the odd little man who checked us in had told us about the "Magic Fountain" that danced to music. He said so many tourists were there snapping flash photos of it you could barely see it, but he also said a whole lot of other things that we weren't quite sure what to make of. That was Sunday night, and we're pretty sure the music show only happens on the weekends. We read up some info in our books and CF, D and I decided to head back out on one last adventure. We took the metro back to very close to where we had been the day before and then took a different line to the other side of Montjuic. We came out onto a scene unlike any we had witnessed in this city all week. There were hoards of tour buses, and tons of people all around. Up on the hill behind the fountain was the National Museum, and it was lit up rather brilliantly. One thing D and I had been bothered by all week was the lack of good lighting of monuments and sights at night. But here we were finally presented with fantastic lighting and a lovely evening setting in the city. We went all the way up the museum and back. There were people all over, everyone keeping an eye on the fountain. But alas, we had the time wrong, I guess it was still on the summer season schedule for some reason. It was going to be another hour before the darn thing would dance! We laughed it off, knowing we had to get home and pack. Some last hurrah!

We went back to the metro and heard a train pulling in. D and I ran and told CF to hurry up. We just made it! What fun! Until one stop later we realized that we had jumped onto a train going the wrong direction! Too funny. We had another good laugh and rode to the next stop after that where we were actually able to transfer straight to a line that would get us pretty close to home. As we walked from one line to the other (transfers can be quite a ways apart in Barcelona metro stops) we walked past one of the most talented street musicians I had heard on the trip. CF turned and looked at me and gave me a funny smile. Later I would think to ask what the smile was for, and it turns out he was thinking exactly what I had been thinking. In a strange little way I was happy for the metro mistake, that way we got to hear the music.

Back at home I sat down to work on catching up with this blog, the others prepped our leftovers to eat. Everything we had was just what we hadn't finished over the past couple days, but it was yet another great meal. We drank a bottle of red wine between the four of us with dinner, and us three younger travel buddies decided we hadn't quite had enough so CF graciously went out and found us one last bottle of cava. I made sure to round up the photos from the digital cameras in the group. It was fun to look back over the past couple weeks. I seem to be stuck on my arty landscape shots so I love seeing everyone else's people shots. Even the bad ones of me making a silly face with my camera pressed to my eye. PZ was online back at home and he asked if CF was finishing off bottles of liquor since it was the last night of our trip. I told him it was ended much more mellow than that. I guess it wasn't a huge last hurrah, but I think it fit the three of us very well. We were all satisfied with our travel experience, with our friendships, and with quiet company one last night (before the next trip, of course).

It was midnight, but I felt wide awake. I had to get up at 5am to get ready for the airport, but since I was clear headed now I decided to pack. I unzipped the pop-up expansion on my suitcase just to make the job easier. I hadn't really collected a lot of physical objects on this journey. Around 1am I finally laid down, and I got four beautiful hours of sleep.

We all got up early, actually had time for some coffee and finished off yesterday's croissants, and we headed out on to the still dark street to flag down a cab. It wasn't too hard to find one. As we drove to the airport I noticed bits and pieces of the city that I had seen during the week but hadn't really realized how they all fit together. The sun was raising, but a huge moon was still visible in the semi-cloudy sky. On a hillside just outside of the city we saw a beautiful looking cemetery with flat, glossy surfaces of some kind reflecting the light and sparkling. It's amazing, we had spent what had felt like more than enough time here but there really is always more to see.

We got the airport, failed miserably at finding any decent food to grab for the plane, parted ways with D and her mom (I saw them boarding their Amsterdam bound flight) and just a little bit later we boarded our flight and the journey home began.

Giving thanks... and having a landmark meal.

Our first Thanksgiving away from home, away from family, and damn it, I guess I just miss out on the Broadway performances at the beginning of the Macy's parade. By the way, I can't believe Broadway basically got shut down by the stagehand strike and I didn't know for most of two weeks! Anyway, Thanksgiving this year would be just us, D and her mom, in Barcelona. We had talked about signing up for a cooking class, but the ones that sounded any good were outrageously expensive so we decided to instead take ourselves out for a fabulous meal in the evening. We discussed a couple possibilities the evening before and figured we'd call for a reservation. We didn't want to miss the holiday altogether!

That morning we decided to take the short trek to a part of the city called Montjuic. We took the metro to the bottom of the hill and then a funicular took us the rest of the way. The Olympic stadium is up there, as well as several gardens that sounded worth checking out. Unfortunately the awkward layout on the hill and the muggy weather made for some pointless and miserable wandering. This place was supposed to be crawling in gardens, so why was it so hard to actually find our way into one? But we rebounded nicely, we took sky gondola baskets (ala the old Disneyland ride, but more enclosed) up to the very top, to the old fort. There we found a lovely view of the Mediterranean, Italy is out there somewhere! We met back up with our other two fellow travelers and we did the trip down the hill. While we were in that area we took the opportunity to check out what sounded like one last great beer destination. A tapas bar that has its own beer made in Belgium. Perfect! The book did say it was "postage stamp sized." So we figured it was going to be small, but decided to have a look.

We walked up and it was indeed small, a bar along both sides, a couple small tables here and there, the walls were lined high with shelves of wines and liquor for sale, but there were no chairs. D's mom wasn't feeling quite up to the experience, and they decided on having lunch somewhere else. CF and I decided to plunge ourselves into a new adventure. We walked in and got a gracious, "Hola!" Luckily there was a nice spot for us to stand at the bar where they made the food so we could watch and point. We ordered two of the house beers right away, as well as some croquettes and anchovies. They've been great everywhere else so that gave us something to start with. I was so pleased to find out the beer was a Double, my favorite! And a fantastic one at that. Worth the visit to this place alone. The anchovies were served up with two small marinated onions and artichoke hearts, a nice little bonus. They only had three croquettes left so we had taken one empañada instead. Everything was so good! CF recalled that they were known for having a good selection of cheeses so we asked for a mixed plate and some bread. We were given one good sized plate with small slices of a good number of cheeses, one small poached pear sliced in half, and a small gelatin which we determined was Cava (Spain's sparkling wine) flavored. The bread plate had only a few slices of bread, along with several kinds of crackers. Both plates were drizzled with a tasty olive oil. While we ate the delicious cheese we soaked up the scene in the small room. Not a word of English was being spoken besides what little we were saying to each other. We mostly communicated with our eyes, "Look at that dish!" and "Oh wow, that looks so good!" It's amazing what you can say with eye contact. We noted the small toasts that were being topped with all kinds of good stuff and decided to ask for some of those, as well as another round of the house beer. I saw one being made with some sort of tomato spread and the darker anchovies that we hadn't had earlier so we ordered two of those. As we ate these we started to smile because we both realized what an amazing experience this meal was and how lucky we were to get to share it with one another. Then we ordered one each of two other toasts to split. One of our little dishes was topped with marinated red pepper, crème fraiche, shrimp and caviar. The other was just crème fraiche and amazing fresh, raw salmon. We both noticed when the younger of the two women working there started making three servings of an eggplant dish. She put down a slice or two of their grilled eggplant that had been soaking in olive oil, next was grated Parmesan cheese, then olive tapenade and finally drizzled with even more olive oil and a thick balsamic vinegar reduction. We had been feeling quite full but neither of us was sure we could leave without trying this one last dish. Then another round of these plates were started for another party in the small restaurant. We caved in and ordered one to split. Heavenly! CF declared it the best eggplant he'd ever had. Of course it was swimming in olive oil but we just didn't care. This meal will certainly be added to our list of lifetime truly magical meals. The beer had brought us there and had rewarded us with an amazing meal. So we decided to try to take some of the beer home with us. We were pleased to be told we could indeed buy it in bottles so we ordered two to take back to the apartment so we'd be able to share with Ms. D. The bill wasn't exactly cheap for a stand-up meal, but it was beyond worth it. As I said, it was magical.

We got the metro home and called a restaurant to get a reservation for dinner, and then promptly passed out. I think I mentioned how good we are at siestas. D and her mom came home after a little while and I got up to see what they had done with their afternoon. They had encountered a very good lunch as well, but had ordered too much food once they considered the portions. We all admitted to being stuffed silly and quite satisfied. So much for Thanksgiving dinner out, we were in for the night.

CF and D ran out to pick up some more of our favorite Spanish nibbley things. Our intention was to start with that and then eat the leftovers from our salmon feast the night before. But we enjoyed the first course too much and instead of salmon we just had another bottle of cava. What an extraordinary Thanksgiving!

I am definitely thankful for good friends and amazing traveling companions. Loving family back home, they're following this blog and the photos, I won't have anything new to tell them when I get back. They were with me the whole time, playing along at home. I am thankful for my other half, Mr. CF himself. I know this is still just one of many adventures to come. And I am thankful for the great big world out there, always teaching me more, always making me feel like a part of something so much bigger than myself. And I guess I should be thankful that this year I find myself a little closer to figuring out what to do with myself, perhaps I am every so slightly less utterly lost than I was last year.

Catching up with Barcelona.

I'm writing this on our last night in Europe and I expect to be coming home to a hectic holiday season schedule, so I'm going to try to catch up with most of our week here in Barcelona as quickly as possible. I apologize for leaving out some of the details!

Our travel crew was down to four, just D and her mom, CF and me. After our Eiffel Tower adventure we didn't get much sleep, we had to get up early, pack up and get outside for our airport shuttle. We had an uneventful and short flight to Barcelona. We caught a taxi to our new apartment. It was more than obvious just how different the climate is here. What a relief to no longer be freezing! Our apartment isn't quite as nice (or well stocked) as some of the other places we've stayed on this journey but I am still a big fan of the lodging choices of our dear Ms. D! I don't think I'll ever want to stay in a hotel again.

We settled in to our new place and noted that you can see the top of la Sagrada Familia from the balcony off the bedroom CF and I are sharing. We went out around 6:00pm for a light meal, planning on having dinner at home later in the night. We headed out to a tapas place that we read would be serving food all day, so we knew we could get away with eating at a non-traditional time for Spainish habits. Our meal quickly spread out over a couple hours and we left stuffed full of fantastic patatas bravas, croquettes, anchovies (four people who all like anchovies, is that even possible?), jamon, grilled cuttlefish, red peppers and wonderful cheeses. The city was so relaxed, so much more laid back than Paris. It was a welcome change. We stopped by a flower shop on the way home and got some Irises for the apartment. Stuffed silly, we basically didn't eat again that day. But I did enjoy the downtime, we rested up and I caught up with some photos and blogging.

The next morning we set out to see some of the famous architecture Barcelona is known for. We got metro passes, and giggled with delight when a train was so easy to catch. We walked up the Passeig de Grácia and saw the Casa Batlló, I almost missed it. It's much smaller than I had expected! The scales on the roof were almost impossible to see from the street. Though the pickpockets were plain to see, as the tourists stopped and looked straight up, they really could have tried a little harder to blend in. Then we headed to the Sagrada Família. Even CF had to admit it was an amazing place. Actually he said it was his most favorite church ever. CF and I had lunch at a slight Italian place, the manager (owner?) had lived in New York for 14 years and asked us if Thanksgiving was this Friday. We told him it was Thursday but indeed this week. Amazing to think about, our first Thanksgiving away from home. D, CF and I went out for a bit of a shopping adventure that evening. We had noticed the lack of soap at the apartment so we visited a very cool looking soap shop. As the salesgirl was packaging up our purchase I recognized the logo, the Z's had shopped in this store (or another location they own) and had brought D a gift back from here! How funny. Such a small world!

We stopped by a meat shop to pick up some jamon and cheese to have for dinner. As CF shopped I wandered down the next street, I ended up looking in my guidebook and realized the very store he was in then was in my book and he had mentioned wanting to go there. Funny how things work out. We shopped a little more, rounding up veggies to have for dinner.

We seem to be making a tradition of visiting an Irish pub in as many countries as possible, so next up we sat down for a pint. CF asked the bartender for directions to a brew pub, but we ended up with directions to a beer shop nearby. Turns out this shop sells beer in bottles but you can choose to drink it there. CF chatted up the fellow working there and they bonded over their beer knowledge. He was selling Anchor Steam so we told him we were from the San Francisco area. We bought a big bottle of something to drink there in the shop, and several to take home with us. As CF left, clutching a sack of bottles, he declared himself "the happiest boy in Barcelona!" And I think he smiled through the whole walk home. That evening we had a great time munching at home. It is so nice to have a place to call home while traveling!

The next day we headed up to Park Güell, another Gaudi influence on the city. It was very cool to visit a place I had learned up in a design class many years ago. We had quite a walk up there. It reminded me of the times that D, CF and I have gone for walks on the weekends in the Bay area along the Bay trail or up near Crystal Springs. D and I even went to the top of the tower with the crosses. What a view! Made me a bit dizzy though. We headed home and had a nice little siesta. Hadn't had one of those since Italy a few years back.

That night we got on the metro to go back to the Gothic Quarter. The plan was to wander for a bit and then meet up for dinner at a slightly more appropriate time for Spain. We took the train two stops and then transfered to a line we hadn't been on before. It was stuffy and smelly, instantly unpleasant. A woman started asking CF questions in Spanish and he tried to explain that he didn't understand. Then a couple of other people started moving towards the metro door. A big mess of red hair was suddenly touching my face. Yuck! It was all so weird, so uncomfortable. The man ended up with his arm in front of CF, then he changed it to be behind him. CF frowned in discomfort, I knew it was bad if he was bothered by the situation. We couldn't tell if they were just trying to be near the door to get off at the next stop or what. We got off two stops later and I ran up the stairs, practically gasping for fresh air. D had watched it all go down. None of us knew quite what to make of it. Even when we got out of the station the air was humid and I couldn't shake the gross feeling of that hair on my face. I wasn't sure I'd be up for two hours of wandering before dinner but I decided to try my best.

I was a bit cranky, and CF wanted to just go home a couple of times. But we ended up sitting down to some coffee, and then some cava and a very few bites of tapas. The rain started so the humidity in the air actually dropped. I felt like I could breathe again. We spotted a good looking place for dinner, rounded up D and her mom at the spot and time we had planned, and proceeded to have a delightful meal.

It wasn't till the next morning that CF realized that his metro pass had been in the outside pocket of his jacket and it was now gone. The scene on the metro was indeed just what it seemed. Thank goodness we are smart travelers, he was well aware of the risk he was at in the moment, D was watching him and the people crowding us were watching her watch them, and everyone was ready to make a scene if need be.

Wednesday in Barcelona the three of us set out for some wandering and shopping. It turned out to mostly be walking, but we were on the look out for good food to bring home to make for dinner. We had a great lunch at a tapas bar in a huge market (not the famous Boqueria, but it was almost as impressive). We had the best fried artichokes I've had outside of Rome, some great veggies, and even had grilled calamari, which I don't usually enjoy at all. I couldn't believe this was the same trip as previous weeks. I had no coat on, only a scarf, and after lunch we all got some gelato and then went for a walk at the beach! Eventually we did end up at la Boqueria to buy groceries to bring home and cook for dinner. We asked for four pieces of salmon and they took a huge knife and cut thick steaks from a fresh, whole fish. We rounded up veggies and herbs at another stand. Bought anchovies and olives from another. What a way to shop! This was Food Paradise. The meal was absolutely amazing, even if it was cooked improv style by CF in our understocked kitchen. D's mom is so impressed with his mad skills. D and I already knew what he could do though.

Barcelona could be visited in two or three days and we had all week here. It was nice to sleep in and take siestas. It might seem like an anti-climatic ending to our adventure, but it really does feel like a vacation from our vacation. Or rather, it felt like we were traveling, and now we are on vacation. This week was about relaxing and taking it easy. It's back to reality this weekend when we have to head home!

Just a few days left to recap! I think I will type them up at the airport or on the plane and post them when I get home. Thanks for reading and "playing along at home."

One last day in Paris.

Friday night in Paris was a restless night of sleep. The apartment was beyond cool to be living in but the floorboards and doors were all so extremely noisy that I couldn't sleep if anything much was going on in other rooms. I hate being such a light sleeper. The Z's had to get up around 6am to get their shuttle to the airport, they would have been able to get a bit more sleep and take the metro, but the strike was still going. They weren't able to reach any taxi companies, so they had given in and booked a shuttle. A little more costly but totally worth the peace of mind. I decided to get up and say goodbye, and so did CF. We got a bit more sleep but gave up on that idea before too late in the morning. There was so much I wanted to do with the day. There were sites left to see and I didn't feel at all satisfied with the amount of shopping I had managed to squeeze into the week.

We had a little breakfast while CF and D worked on possible transportation methods for gettin to the airport the next morning. They looked up several shuttle companies online and we made a reservation. CF and I set out to visit the Cimetière du Père-Lachaise and see some famous graves. We bought a map for 2euros and started navigating the huge cemetery. The map listed many graves of famous people, and it appeared that the more famous the name, the larger and bolder the name was on the map. The first big one we came near was Chopin, it was obvious when we had found it because it was covered in 4 times as many flowers as the others around it. We made a stop at Jim Morrison, no security guard was visible at the time but it was fenced off and crowded with people trying to snap a photo. This place was starting to rub me the wrong way. We went over to Sarah Bernhardt, and two women walking by stopped there too only because we were there. I had read that people leave lipstick kisses on Oscar Wilde's grave, and having seen his classy but irreverent memorial in Dublin I somehow pictured shiny marble and one perfectly imprinted kiss. How silly of me. It was stone that looked dull from all the times it had been touched and it was covered all over in gross lip prints and graffiti. I held out hope for Edith Piaf's grave. But there we found a tour group of Russians in big fur coats laughing and stumbling over the graves between the path and hers. One guy sat down on the poor soul at her foot and proceeded to take photos of each one of his companions posing with the grave. I felt dirty for being there. Yes, I took a photo, but I felt like even if this place has become a tourist attraction you should at least bring a little bit of respect to pay to the "people" you've come to see. We saw a few more graves and then couldn't take any more, I'm really not sure how I feel about our going there.

Next we headed over to Promenade Plantée, a raised park that's really mostly a walkway. It was a little bit tricky to find a way up there, we had approached it somewhere in the middle. It was very pretty and I liked seeing the people exercising up there, reminding me what torture I am in for when I finally return to the gym after being away for five weeks! The view down at the neighborhood was nice too, we could see apartments stacked on top of each other and cafes of different sorts. I'm not sure if the darn thing was a whole lot shorter than I had expected or if we started closer to one end than I had thought, our walk up above the rooftops was over rather quickly.

I was itching to shop, and CF had plans to hit the Sewers of Paris Museum, but we decided to get some lunch first. We found ourselves back near the Ile Saint Louis, hoping for some tasty street food. Before not too very long we saw a window open to the street from a restaurant, the sign stated that they were selling crepes to go. The woman there was swamped with business and we were constantly losing her attention as she tried to run the show going on inside, but she made us fresh buckwheat crepes filled with toppings we selected ourselves. CF had an egg which is very traditional and she broke it open right onto his meal while it cooked on the griddle. He smiled with giddy anticipation. We walked with our little meal across the bridge to Notre Dame, it was a gorgeous day. The sun was shining, so street musicians were braving the chilly air. On the middle of the bridge a man was playing soprano sax, accompanied by man playing a small upright piano. Right there in the middle of the bridge! A crowd was forming around them. We found a bench in the park behind the great cathedral and enjoyed the warm, tasty, melty goodness. Who could ask for anything more than what we had right then? Out in the world and enjoying a beautiful day. This is real happiness. This was our Paris moment. We decided to get some ice cream and crossed back over the bridge. The crowd was still watching those musicians, it was one of those days when you just know that most of the people around you are happy. We easily found a stand in front of a restaurant that was selling that same delicious salted caramel ice cream we had enjoyed the day before and each got a cone. (In fact I believe it was where Giada deLaurentiis got her ice cream cone on her Weekend Getaway show. But shhhh, don't ruin the moment!) We gave each other a little salty caramel smooch goodbye and parted ways.

I made my way over to Shakespeare and Company since I knew the legendary bookstore was so close to Notre Dame. Rarely have I been hit with such a strong energy the moment I enter a room. Maybe I was still reeling with the happy emotion from my wonderful lunch with CF, but I swear I could feel the creative energy surging in every corner of that place and I was almost moved to tears (or maybe the lack of sleep was getting to me). It was lined from floor to ceiling with books of all shapes and sizes, new and old. Beds and writing desks were tucked away here and there. Two old movie theater seats were the available seating in the rather unusual magazine section (it was actually just a section for writing publications). In the middle of the main floor there was something that looked like an empty water feature, it had coins in the bottom, I still have to look up what the meaning of it is, but I knew it had to be something witty and clever. Upstairs a man was getting ready to run a come-one-come-all writing group. And all throughout the store twinkling piano music could be heard. At first I was sure it was prerecorded, but I found the fellow sitting at the upright in the back and it was then that I was certain this place was really magical. I looked for a while, feeling almost desperate to find something to buy so I could take a bit of the magic away with me. But nothing made itself obvious, so I went on my way. Happy with the experience of having been there.

I tried to finally do my great Paris shopping adventure. I don't know if it was the crowds, or if I had gone to the wrong places, or what. I just wasn't in the right groove. I am a little bit sad that I didn't get to do more shopping. I just don't shop in a group very well and this was the first time all week that I had been alone. Oh well, I guess that just leaves something on my list to do if and when I get the chance to go back. I sent CF a text message asking what he was up to, he said he was done at the museum and we should meet up. Another message a few minutes later told me that the metro was packed and he was walking to meet me. It took him a little over half an hour and we still had more than that left to walk to get home. This week in Paris was quite the roller coaster. So many wonderful things, but some really big disappointments too. I was so tired at this point, I wasn't sure how to feel about the experience.

We made our way home, planning on stopping by for just a little while before going out on a date (it was Paris, afterall). I took a little nap and went to the computer to have another look at the photos from our trip to the Eiffel Tower the night before. My stomach dropped, the photos wouldn't open. I remembered trying to get on the computer right before my nap and it wasn't responding so I had restarted it. And I remembered that the night before when I had imported my photos from my camera everyone had crowded around to have a look, and I ended up moving away from the laptop before closing out of iPhoto. Oh my god, iPhoto had done it to me again, I had taken a couple hundred shots the night before, and they were all gone. I cried my eyes out for a while, I almost cried myself right to sleep, but then I realized I was still in Paris and metro strike or not, I just couldn't leave with zero photos of the Eiffel Tower at night. CF came in the room, probably relieved that I had stopping being such a drama queen. "So, where do you want to have dinner for our date?" he asked me. "Well, I guess it's going to have to be somewhere near the Tower." CF loves an adventure, it didn't take much to get him in on the crazy idea.

We walked to one metro stop but couldn't tell how long it would be until a train came and we were worried about losing too much time before the Tower closed. We considered a taxi but traffic looked bad. We were tired, and I haven't mentioned this but my back was starting to bother me and was now hurting, but we did the best we could at the time and started walking. We did find a metro ride to take after we walked for a bit. Sitting there on the train I almost started crying again. What was I thinking? Was this even worth it? They were only photos, wasn't having an amazing time up there enough? And CF, wasn't he such a trooper? He didn't even like going up there and here he was making a grueling trek back with me, back to very close to where he had started walking from only a few hours earlier. A million things were flying through our minds.

Cue the cheesy metro riding musician! He got on the train with his sax hanging beneath his shirt in case he had to make an incognito getaway, turned on his canned backing track, and started playing Fly Me To The Moon. CF and I finally just started laughing. What a tension breaker! He played another song or two, and went around the car asking for change. He almost didn't hit us up, but made eye contact with CF just as the train stopped and the doors opened. "That was so worth a Euro," CF said to me. He handed him the coin, and the man slipped off the train with the rest of the crowd.

We still had plenty of ground left to cover. The metro had delivered us to a mid-point on the Champs Elysees. We rushed in the direction of the tower, but soon found ourselves a bit confused. Hey, there's the Dior where Sarah Jessica Parker fell on the series finale of Sex and the City! I'd been wondering all week where it was! Too funny. We went past some pretty swish restaurants, and saw plenty of Parisians going about their everyday fabulous lives. CF tried to figure out the best way to go, but I pointed out that I could see the light coming from the top of the tower and he was suggesting going away from it. Things got a little frantic for a while there! I could see the top of the Tower when the lights started sparkling, this is done on the hour, so that meant it was 10pm, closing time was 11. It was going to be close. I stopped to take a few shots, but was scared to let too much time slip by. Finally, we were there.

The line was blessedly short, and it seemed like no time before we were up on the tower again. We had made it. I fell to pieces.

"Who cries on the Eiffel Tower?!?" CF scolded me. All the emotion I had just been holding in bubbled over and I needed to get it out. So yes, I cried on the Eiffel Tower for a few moments. And then I moved on. And started snapping photos again. I could feel right away that they weren't going to be as good as the ones I took the night before, but still, here I was, back on the Tower just one night later. Who lives like this? My life can be so weird! CF even came out the edge with me and we looked out over the foggy city. It's no New York, but it really is lovely. And even though it was a drama that brought us back to the Tower, it was one of my favorite parts of the trip so I was actually sort of thrilled to do it again.

We made our way back down and headed towards the metro station that we would have arrived at if we had stuck it out and got that first train we had checked on when we had set out on this adventure. But then we wouldn't have seen the funny sax playing man, and SJP's Dior. Then it wouldn't have been such a grueling adventure. But man, were we happy when a train with plenty of seats pulled in about a minute after we got down there. As we rode home I closed my eyes for a second and thought about how long we've been away from home. I was tired and my body was hurting. I opened my eyes and looked around the train at all these strangers and thought about all the crazy stories going on in their lives right now. It was one of those moments when I just feel so connected to the world, and at the same time, so very small.

We were utterly exhausted, but we had never had our dinner date. We thought about sitting down in a restaurant between the metro stop and the apartment, but decided not to press our luck in case we crashed once the adrenaline ran out. Our Paris dinner date ended up being a 1am shawarma sandwich and Nutella banana crepe. And I don't know if I could ask for anything better.

Good things come to an end.

Friday morning in Paris, the morning following that great concert, we all just had a quick breakfast. Considering the fact that we only had dinner at home one in Paris, I'm glad we had those sit down breakfasts with everyone. But this was a nice change of pace. There was only a croissant and a half, plus there was no milk for my coffee, so I decided it was time for me to hit the streets of Paris alone. It was very cold but the sun was shining, it was also day three of the metro strike. I watched a roller blading father push his child in a stroller the opposite direction as me, and then a bike darted around me going my direction, another roller blader and a motor scooter as well. I looked at the little old lady next to me with big eyes, the commuters on wheels were cutting it a bit close to us for comfort! She said something to me in French that I assume was something along the lines of, "Those crazy kids, better be careful!" I nodded and smiled and we walked towards the corner. We stood with other people on foot at the intersection and looked to our left. A bus was collecting passengers a little ways down. My new friend told me in French, "Oh my! The buses are running more like normal even with the strike." Or something like that. I smiled and nodded again. It was only then that I saw a look on her face that looked like she wondered if I understood her, but the crossing signal turned green and we were on our way. I ordered some more croissants mostly in French and managed to communicate enough in broken French and English with the man at the little market to figure out which cream was for my coffee. I was conquering the language barrier after all, but what a trip it's going to be when I get home and can communicate even more easily with the people around me!

D & CF and I decided to walk to the Opera and see Google Paris. It was a long walk to see a small office but we're glad to have seen it. They have this ridiculous view from their lunch room of the Opera house. It's insane. After a rather quick and uneventful stop there we trekked down past the Louvre again and stopped for lunch on Ile Saint Louis. Afterwards we found perhaps the very jewelry store where Ms. D had bought the earrings which are lost and well, she bought some new ones. Then I found a store where I proceeded to buy two new scarves and wasn't sure which of the three I was now carrying I wanted to wear most. After that We all split an ice cream from Berthillon. Salted Caramel is really giving chocolate a run for its money. It might very well be the best flavor on earth. This ice cream was seriously divine. Then we walked through the Latin Quarter just a bit, and then through the Luxembourg Gardens. The thing that has struck me most about French gardens is the geometry. The trees are all manicured into perfect shaped lines and paths. I'm guessing the gardens are even better in Spring or Summer but they were quite lovely. There were plenty of locals sitting out enjoying the sun, even if no warmth accompanied it. We walk back past the first macaroon store we visited earlier in the week and I picked up one last box of precious cookies. I have been so spoiled this month! I didn't really get to do any of the shopping I had hoped to get to see, besides the earring and scarf stop, but we had a great day of walking and saw lots of Paris. It was time to head to the Eiffel Tower to meet up with the Z's so we went in that direction. It was time for something of a last hurrah. Though I knew from the start it couldn't possibly live up to that last night in Ireland.

The line for the tower was long, and it was freezing. It was unpleasant but the setting was so lovely and I was getting so giddy about going up that I didn't really feel it until I realized my fingers were shaking from being so cold. We were the last ones to get in the elevator, so I was right by a big glass window. The ride was amazing. Slowly, and diagonally, we moved up the tower's leg. We rose through all the beams and passed turning wheels, the view spread out wider and wider below us, it was incredible. We arrived up at the second level and I walked right to the railed edge. KZ and Mr. CF himself found yet another thing in common. They were both pretty scared of the view down and mostly stood back more in the center of the tower. But I was so taken with the view that I didn't even notice that CF hadn't walked forward with me. Now, the Empire State building is much taller than the Eiffel tower. And when I was looking down at New York at night it wasn't nearly so breath taking because we were so far away from all the sites, and the lights were just little tiny specks, it all blended together. From this height you can see Paris in every direction, but everything is still close enough that you can easily pick it out and remember that you were just at the top of that Arc or standing in that garden, etc. etc.

Just a few minutes after we had been up there the tower's lights started to sparkle. Yes, I know it does it every hour, on the hour, but it seemed magical at the time. I snapped an unreasonable number of photos because I knew a number of them would come out blurry and I figured there was safety in numbers. I used the rail as a bit of a tri-pod and took some shots in every direction out from the tower. Some of them seemed to be pretty focused and had a good balance of light. I love my camera. Then it was time to get the other elevator, the one that would take us to the top. We arrived in the glassed in room and I was disappointed, it was crowded and hard to see out. We had paid extra to come see this? But there was a staircase up to go outside. It was small and very fenced in, but it was amazing to know we were at the top of the Eiffel tower. PZ noted the fog was below us, and I have to say, the view is almost better from the second level. It was great though, I loved it. We were about ready to go but KZ and CF decided they did indeed want to see the outside part of this level so we took our nervous significant others up the stairs, the teased each other walking to the edge, and then we quickly went back inside. There was a wait to go back down to the second level. And then there was a really long wait for the elevator back down to the ground. It was then that I realized I was freezing and my feet hurt from basically standing still for a couple hours now. This part of the experience was my least favorite. But soon enough we all made our way down and ran towards the water. We had debated going on the boat cruise, people were worried about it being cold. When we were told that it would be most of an hour before another boat left we decided to go get dinner and see how we felt about coming back for the ride. D led us through the streets of her favorite neighborhood, the plan was to eat at one of a couple restaurants she had been to before and really enjoyed. We had a group of five and no reservation. We struck out at the first place she checked on, but were quickly seated at the second one. It was a really nice looking place on the corner, with a little bit of a street view, it was perfect.

My frozen friends all started to thaw, and the feeling returned to my fingers. They actually started to feel like they were burning! My goodness we endured some low temperatures! We ordered some beers and wine. Dinner was served. Many of us had the onion soup, which was perfect to warm us up the rest of the way. For dessert I tried to order the caramel ice cream from earlier in the day but they were out of that flavor. I ended up having some chocolate cake. PZ was going to have the ice cream as well but when we had to pick something else he went with a Rhum Baba (I think it was called). Soon after ordering a bottle of rum was placed on the table before him. Did these people know what they were getting themselves into? A little taste test indicated that there was simply syrup (sugar water) mixed in, but that didn't stop CF and PZ from indulging. Okay, I had a little too. Our server saw this, and actually encouraged us. And when his actual dessert arrived, which I believe was sort of cake like, she helped him pour plenty of that sweet rum on top. CF proceeded to help him more too much on, but apparently he still enjoyed the dish. Our server also teased a woman at the next table over who hadn't put nearly such a dent in her bottle of rum. Apparently, we had set a fine example!

We were all warm and happy and quickly admitted that the boat ride would just have to be something to do when returning to Paris. We lucked out and had a fairly easy time catching a metro ride to get close to home. CF and D had been realizing all week that their long legs allowed them to walk together more easily than they can probably walk with anyone else. They were too cold to slow down, but the Z's and I weren't too far behind. We arrived back at the apartment and right away I wanted to see the loot I had come away with from the tower. I got the photos off my camera as a last couple drinks were poured. In a later post I will tell you why it was so unfortunate that I got distracted and walked away from the computer without closing iPhoto, but everyone seemed to be hypnotized by watching the "slide show" of my photos that CF had started playing.

Paris was wonderful but between the freezing temperature and metro strike, it really took a lot of energy out of us. It was clear that no huge party was happening, so we all decided to go to bed. I pouted and said my goodbyes to the Z's, they were out of vacation time and heading home the next morning. I hated to see them go. CF said his goodbyes too, he was laying on the couch and when each of them had come over to him, instead of standing up, he pulled them down on top of him for a hug. My goodness, I am such a lucky girl to have such a classy Fellow.

Beers and Kirs... and New York Gypsy Punk!

Paris was such a whirlwind... between having way to much to see (and having to walk there thanks to the metro strike) and sharing the computer I have fallen far behind on my travel rambling. Currently I am resting up in Barcelona, but let me finish telling you about our week in the city of lights.

The first day of the metro strike we decided to pretty much stick close to home. We walked to the Marais and wandered around a bit. We met back up and went to the Musée Carnavalet. It's a free museum about the history of Paris. Not a stop on everyone's list of top things to do in Paris. But for me it was a must. You see, I have a really special place in my heart for the design work of Alphonse Mucha, he mostly designed gorgeous posters, but I happened to know that Carnavalet is the place to find the actual jewelry store interior that he designed in 1901. I didn't really mean to bring the whole group with me but we all pretty much stuck together. It was a little bit bittersweet to not be able to let it sink is quietly and slowly alone. But oh my god, what a moment. It was almost unreal being there. I was inside the photos I had looked at so many times! Mucha's work is so beautiful, and some people might find it too much so, in fact, I myself can't stand overly fussy and frou-frou things. But his swirly lines and beautiful women, I don't know, they just never seem to be trying so hard, they're just natural and wonderful.

For lunch we got take-away falafel sandwiches made by a man with the fastest hands I have ever seen. He expertly tossed the ingredients into the pocket of pita breads in about 10 seconds flat! We ate in a park and then walked to a new gelato place. Apparently it was started by an Italian who couldn't find ice cream in Paris that fit his taste so he started importing the ingredients and making his own. Afterwards we walked through the Louvre courtyard and through the gardens. The sun was setting and the sky was just beautiful. My happy camera snapped away. Our intended destination was Musée de l'Orangerie, the home of Monet's huge waterlily paintings, but because of the strike and transportation problems for everyone involved, they were closing early. So there we were, 5pm and stranded far from home. We went downstairs to check out the metro situation. The train pulled up and the sight of it basically made me want to cry. It was so packed and there were a ton of people trying to get on. I turned to CF and said, "I can't do it!" And he said, "I don't want to anyway." So we decided to walk all the way home. We parted ways with the rest of the group and climbed back up to ground level.

Chaos, mass chaos! Traffic was terrible, a taxi never once crossed our minds. We just headed in the direction of home and figured we'd finally get to really see the city and do it while working off some of the glorious food we'd been partaking of for weeks now. Something a little unexpected happened then, we were suddenly having a fantastic time. We were just another couple trying to get home on a crazy evening in the city. I loved seeing all the people, trekking in so many different ways. Taxis, cars, motorbikes, bicycles, rollerblades, and of course... us pedestrians. Eventually we got a text message from the group. They had given up and decided to walk as well, but they were now a ways behind us and we had no keys. So we stopped by a coffee shop (No, not a coffeeshop, we're not in Amsterdam) and bought some more coffee grounds. The poor salesgirl asked CF for a tip on speaking English, "Should I ask 'Anything else?' or is it 'Something else?'" He rattled off more advice than she could possibly have needed, at a rate faster than she could possibly understand. I tried to step in and help out. But the moment was absolutely charming. We stopped by a cheese shop and picked up some more fromage for the apartment. Next up was a cafe where we had a beer and a kir royal (champagne and cassis). Then we picked up some more eggs and yogurt for our breakfast feasts. I was getting a bit hungry so we swung by the crepe stand near home. She made the pancake fresh for me right then, I was so happy! I had it topped with Nutella. Heavenly! We were home but hadn't heard from the group. So we went into the bar just downstairs where we had gone for dinner two nights before and had another beer and kir. It was after 7 by then, and we had the bar to ourselves. We sat in comfy arm chairs and enjoyed the music they had playing.

And then, whoops, the text message finally came through. The gang had actually been home since about the time I got the crepe down the street! Oh well, I was so content with our little adventure and experience shopping and drinking our way home, I wouldn't change a thing.

D's mom was totally wiped out from the journey and stayed home for the night. So the five friends wandered out to a nearby recommended restaurant. Before dinner Ms. D gave a wonderful toast. "Here's to good friends. We're lucky to have each other." And we all agreed as we clinked glasses.

The next morning we all woke up a little tired and cranky. The city (and strike) were taking the oomph out of us. And this was the morning I wrote that bit about “Why do you travel?” The strike was still on, but more drivers were giving in and going to work. We managed to get a pretty good ride on the metro to Musée d'Orsay. D had been to the museum several times before, and CF was feeling a bit museum overloaded. But the rest of us went in. I enjoyed my visit, but maybe I was tired and/or distracted, nothing really grabbed me or moved me. There was a great little exhibit on the Paris Opera, the building itself was very interesting, and really, even if you've already seen more than your share of Monet and van Gogh they are incredible. Afterwards we grabbed some lunch at a cafe named after Mucha and made our way back to the other museum to see those Monet waterlilies finally. They are huge and they are very impressive. The rooms are large ovals and you sit there in the middle and just let them surround you.

The Z's, CF and I had to trek home so we could get prepped and make out way out (somehow) to the concert we had bought tickets for months ago. We managed to get metro part of the way, there was one leg of the ride that got just crowded enough that I started to feel every so slightly panicked, but just then the crowded thinned out and pretty soon it was time to walk the rest of the way home. Certain trains were running more than others, so sometimes you just cut your losses and used your feet.

We decided to try metro first to get to the show, and then check out bus and taxi options, the temperature was dropping so walking had become our last resort (plus it was a couple miles each way). Metro was a no-go. There were more people waiting downstairs then could possibly fit into a metro train if it pulled up empty. These were all people trying to get home in the further reaches of the city. I felt really bad for them and even if it were a real possibility I wouldn't have wanted to take one spot away from them. So we gave up on that. It was a bit of a hassle but we did manage to get a taxi. The drivers were all crazed from the extra business and demand. We lucked out and got a really nice driver who put up with the traffic and took us all the way up to the concert venue, even if his chances of finding a return fare weren't great. He wished us good luck as he dropped us off. Boy, this strike is really getting to the city!

We got an extremely fast sit down meal of schwarma sandwiches, frites and beer and made our way to the concert venue. We fell in with the crowd, but found ourselves facing a building labeled with the wrong name. PZ checked out what the scalpers were offering and we found out we were at the venue where Vanessa Paradis would be appearing! I made jokes about wanting to see "Johnny Depp's baby mama" sing. But we did have tickets for the other show so we asked a bouncer where to find the other venue. Up some stairs and over a little pedestrian bridge was the answer. This was such a weird adventure! CF was loving it, of course.

We found our concert, went inside and got set up standing in a great spot on an upper level along a rail. We had a great view and weren't far away from the stage at all, but we'd be out of the craziness if the down-front crowd got wild. There was a DJ playing some great tunes, a very amusing French punk band opened the show, and then finally, Gogol Bordello took the stage.

A few months ago PZ was spending the night at our house, which he sometimes does when working back to back days in the Bay area, and asked if I had heard of a band called Gogol Bordello. I said I had not but my laptop was, well, in my lap, so I looked them up on iTunes and as soon as I saw the track listing I remembered that I had indeed heard of them. The lead singer actually played a large role in the movie Everything is Illuminated, the rest of the band made a small appearance in the movie, and their song "Start Wearing Purple" played over the closing credits. I remembered the song because I remembered thinking that PZ would like it, and so he did, ha! They were playing in San Francisco and he wanted to go see them. I had to work but CF was going to go instead, but then it turned out the darn show was sold out. But somehow I managed to find info online about their European appearances in the fall, and that's how I found out they were in Paris at the same time as us. And that's how this crazy night came to be.

I don't even know where to begin, how do I describe this band? Well, a souvineer t-shirt read, "NYGP -- New York Gypsy Punk" and that's a pretty good way to describe everything that goes into their sound, look and stage presence. There's the tall, skinny lead singer. One of the most authentic gypsy looks in the band comes from the violinist with a large beard and busted bow strings flying. I also liked the accordionist and slick looking guitar player. Adding to the mayhem were two back up singing girls, who at times carried fans and at others wielded tambourines, and ultimately one ended up with a marching base drum and the other with cymbals. I suggest looking them up on YouTube so you can get a better sense of what I'm talking about. The show was incredible. I am not usually one to dance during a concert but I basically didn't stop moving. The show ended with the mosh pit crowd on stage, holding the singer up above their heads. Wild!

We somehow managed to catch a metro most of the way home pretty quickly after the show. The four of us were flying high from the concert. My poor tired feet could barely carry me home from the metro stop. CF stopped for a midnight snack at another doner kebab place, they're everywhere in Europe, and we got home around midnight. We had left around 5:30pm! The metro strike wasn't totally ruining anything, but it was sure sucking a lot of time out of our day! We headed to bed quickly. The week was getting away from us and so was our amount of sleep!

Why do you travel?

Here in our Paris apartment I've been trying to be very good about sharing the computer, plus we've been on the go so much that there just hasn't been time to write anything down. I do worry about trying to go back through the memories but I figure it is much better to just live in the moment as much as possible. Traveling in a group has its challenges, but I think we're all doing pretty well figuring out how everyone can get done the things they want to do. We have our moments of crankiness, well, I sure have anyway, but luckily we're all understanding and we let it go rather quickly. Shake it off and move on. But I think it's important to recognize and be accepting of people's differing reasons to travel. Some people travel to see historical sites and learn about them, some people are mostly collecting sites they can brag that they have seen (luckily this isn't anyone I travel with), me, I travel to see how other people live. I find it utterly exhilarating to see so many different people in the world and join their way of life for a short period of time. I think that's why I like staying in apartments so much. But one challenge in traveling with a group is making sure that everyone gets to do what they want to do, the way they need to do it for them, and still find a way to be together and have a good time.

The first night in Paris we got settled in our apartment and then went out for Thai food, strange, I know. The Z's have a tradition of eating Chinese food on every trip and this was our compromise on that idea since they'd already had Chinese in France. The walk there took us through what almost seemed like Chinatown, but we knew it was elsewhere in the city. It was a bit of a surprise to start there, obviously not what you tend to picture when you think of Paris! The portions were small but the food was extremely well prepared. We wandered around our neighborhood a little and then settled in for our first night of seven in this amazing apartment.

The next morning the fellows made us some very classy omelets. D ran down to a bakery and got us fresh pastries. What a good way to start the day! We got metro passes to last us the week, this included a fun stop at a photo booth at which I took one of the better photographs of my whole life, and rode to the Eiffel Tower. We came around a corner and there it was! It really was an impressive sight, the sun was shining, the sky was blue. I really am such a lucky girl to get to witness so many amazing things in my life. We walked down to the other side of the tower, and continued through several neighborhoods and along the river, it was lovely. Eventually we stopped at a cafe for lunch, which for me was onion soup plus a salad with tomato and mozzarella. It was pretty darn tasty, we had some nice wine with the meal, the price was right, and then it turned out that two rather famous eating establishments were right around the corner! What a find we had!

Pretty soon after lunch we tracked down a fancy-pants bakery and I got some amazing macaroons. Salted caramel and olive oil were my two favorite flavors. Now this is what I was hoping to get to experience! Such wonderful cookies, such unusual flavors that I can't get at home! Although I have to say the white truffle was sort of weird. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was eating a mushroom cookie. CF liked it a lot. We tried to do some shopping next, but it's rather difficult to shop with such a large group. We moved on to see Notre Dame and then D's mom decided to head back to the apartment. I spotted some really cool shops as we were walking her to a taxi stand, and CF and I decided to slip inside and catch up with the group. We knew where to find them. Except the Z's split off too but thought we were supposed to meet at a different taxi stand. We managed to find D, but the Z's couldn't find us and headed home. We were now a threesome and sat down for one drink. I had my first pastis, I have to say, I like it a lot! Anis flavored goodness! Eventually we caught up with the other third of our traveling crew at home and we all went down to the smoky cafe right outside out apartment building's door. It was a long meal, which I was happy to be seated on a leather couch for. I was happy lingering and lounging. This was what I expected dining in France to be like. It was very nice.

Somewhere around this time we started worrying about the talk of a transportation union strike. We decided that Tuesday we should ride the metro out as far as we could since we probably wouldn't get to use it on Wednesday. We started with a visit to the Arc du Triumph, the stairs were quite a climb! The sky was gray and a bit foggy. Not nearly the gorgeous day we had been blessed with the day before. But the view was impressive, the large boulevards radiating out from the Arc is amazing to see in person. We descended and then walked down the Champs Elysees. The street wasn't too crowded, but it was a bit hectic. Many of the stores are easy to find at home, but I can see why it's quite the shopping destination. We found the second of the two best recommended places for macaroons, so of course we stopped so we would be able to add our comparison and input.

Another metro ride got us to Montmartre, we came out and PZ swooped his arms in the air to do a reveal of the Moulin Rouge for me. I have to say, I like the movie better than the site, which is just a cheesy dance hall now, but I couldn't have come here and not seen it, it just wouldn't have been right. We made what we now know was an unfortunate decision to grab street food for lunch. KZ's sandwich might have been what eventually led her to tummy trouble, and the rest of us got crepes, which weren't all that I could have hoped for. Plus then we began a walking tour of the neighborhood as it began to rain, we stumbled through the streets, trying to navigate the puddles as well as the history. It was not my cup of tea, I don't mind getting rained on but I was not able to really look around, my pricey cookies from earlier got rained on, and it just seemed like we needed to find a place to get inside, have a coffee and wait out the rain. The rain didn't last too long though and the group split up for a little while, CF ran back with me for a few shots I had missed while trying to keep my camera dry, then we went over to the famous church, park and steps that everyone knows from the move Amelie. There is a great view from up there on the hill, which had been prominent in the view from the Arc earlier in the day. The group met back up, but we split into two parties. CF and the Z's went to tour the catacombs, which house the bones of about six million people. Creepy! Ms. D accompanied me to do a little wandering, but she's such a good sport that she ended up shopping with me, even though that activity is not HER cup of tea. I found one store with lots of colors, styles and sizes that suited me and end up buying myself a casual t-shirt and also a satiny tunic (or maybe a mini dress?) to wear to holiday parties. What fun!

We did make it back outside just as it was starting to get dark. My favorite part was walking through the courtyard of the Louvre just as the sky turned dark. The pyramid was lit up from within and it really was impressive to see, even if opinions of the I.M. Pei work are mixed. The geometry of the fountains surrounding it make it all the more stunning, and D told me that walking through there was pretty much sublime for her. We hopped back on the metro and came home to dinner and drinks being fixed. We had a great meal in our wonderful apartment which is so nice to get to do. Some of us might have had a touch too much of the pastis, but what the heck, it's better than not enough. Right? I had a blast.

Time for a new post and I will continue with the following two days...

Oh by the way...

We are in Paris! Another fantastic lodging selection. Our apartment is huge! A quick taxi ride from the train station got us all here. We settled in quickly, we have tons of space. The Z's are in a nice big room with yellow walls and orange curtains while our room is a bit smaller and covered in shades of blue. We went for a little walk, I had my first of what is sure to be a number of macaroons (shout out to my PS ladies!), we bought a few groceries to make breakfast tomorrow and we wandered back to the apartment. Suddenly it was pouring, I think it's finally stopped. I'm itching to get out there and see this city!

Flying to Paris on the ground.

Belgium was quite good to us, and we had a excellent final night on the town. We went to one last good beer destination before dinner. I walked in the door ahead of the group to find a small, smoky room and I was greeted by less than friendly faces. Ugh. But quickly a staff person indicated there was another room in the back. There we found a much happier, less smoky crowd of what appeared to be mostly tourists, many of them carrying the same beer guide that CF had used to learn so much. We had to split up the group to sit down at first but we were soon reunited all at one table. I spoke to one group of guys sitting next to me, one of them was clearly American but said he was living in Oslo, they were here just for the weekend. They were on their way to Ghent today so I told them about our two favorite beer places there and told them they simply must make a pit stop at the gin bar. Ms. D commented on the almost-Hawaiian print shirt on one man at the table on the other side of us. All along on side of the room was a table of English speaking tourists that may or may not have ever known each other before coming to Belgium, or maybe even before coming to this room. Pretty cool. We paid our bill and moved on to dinner. I may or may not have mentioned that we made a reservation for dinner at the place we had an afternoon beer or two the day before. Dinner was very good, and so were the beverages. Our server was extremely funny. At one point he told CF, “Sir, there are no stupid answers...”

Later in the meal a group of men were seated next to us, and we recognized the same almost-Hawaiian shirt. They were on a path of good beer places as well! They were British and also just having a weekend away. What fun it must be to live in Europe and have so many cultures so near by to visit and enjoy so easily. No wonder Americans can be so closed minded and scared of change, it's not nearly as accessible.

Early this morning my cellphone's alarm clock, set on vibrate beneath my pillow woke me up for the first shower in our room of four travelers. We had breakfast at 8, left by 9 and now we are on the train to Paris. I currently am whizzing through the French country side. The speed at which the sights are flying by is almost humorous. At one point some rain was falling but it was only on one side of the train and it looked like it was raining sideways because we are going so fast. CF and I took advantage of our EuroRail passes and got first class tickets for a good price, the rest of our crew is riding second class, and while I miss them I have to say this quiet break is why I took the opportunity to type up a blog entry that I will post later.

At breakfast Billy Joel's New York State of Mind was playing, I thought it was funny to hear right before we go to Paris. I'm sure Ms. D is just beside herself with excitement right about now. I'm excited to see her favorite city. And I'm hoping I get to share my favorite city with my friends in the semi-near future as well. CF and I are scheming a bit... we might even decide to celebrate our 4th wedding anniversary there this March and invite friends to come with us. It'll be 15 years of being together, out of the 30 we've been alive. Half a life time of driving each other crazy, as I like to say. I really am one lucky spoiled girl. How on earth did I get this life? I only wish I knew more what to do with it. For those of you wondering, this is sort of the life theme that I named my blog for, I have such fantastic things before me, and I'm too lost and messed up to enjoy it fully. But, baby steps, as they say. Of course the hang over at Tiffany's really did happen after one fateful night in Brooklyn. You'll have to ask one Mr. MP about that one.

Our level of energy on this trip has been a bit manic depressive. We go from yawns to belly laughs almost instantly, and then back again. CF and I came up with a way to handle anything on this trip and I'm happy to say the group has adopted the philosophy. If something isn't quite right, you have two options. Option #1: Shake it off. Option #2: Nut it up. (Thank you Mr. NW for that one.) It pretty much covers all situations and gets us through the rough spots. Other reoccurring themes include the fact that CF always wins (or at least he'll tell you so). I know all his tricks. Sometimes we wake up in the morning “quoting [P DP]” (which means you wake up smacking your lips with a dry mouth, this is a joke from our Chicago trip). Ms. D is teaching CF to count in French which had led to many good moments. CF has also been known to exclaim “No, sir, no! I am a lady!” in French (which I'm sure I would butchering the spelling of so badly that I won't attempt to type it out for you). We like to make lots of jokes about switching partners... CF's going to end up with PZ, I'm going to end up Ms. D... uh oh, KZ, I think you're out of luck. Oh well, she'll have her Pringles to keep her company.

We haven't had as much junk food as we did sitting in those cars in Ireland. We've been on the go most of the week though, it'll be nice to have the same lodging for a whole week now. I can't believe we've been in Europe for three weeks now. It feels like longer and yet it also feels like it's all just begun. My life back at work seems a world away. I'm trying not to think about it, but it's going to be so hard to go back! In the mean time I will enjoy the good food, the even better company and knowing that years from now I will be struck with a happy memory and most likely one these very people will be close by, or easily within reach for me to relive the moment with. That just gives me chills!

So onward we go to Paris. Can't wait to see the City of Lights!

Another day, another brewery tour (Alternate title: Into every European trip, a little religion must fall.)

Brugges is indeed lovely like so many people had told us. We have more fantastic lodging, thanks to Ms. D, the Z & W couples are sharing a loft while D has a room downstairs with her mom. We went out to a huge seafood lunch shortly after arriving. It was recommended by out hosts, who we later learned have ties to the seafood industry so I think we ended up with a real winner. The ladies all selected mussels and the fellows had eel. The portions were ridiculous and we quickly determined that the prices was not quite as high as we had thought considering what we got, and we realized we'd basically never want to go out to dinner that night so after a bit of wandering (and a bit of beer of course, though I had a coffee with amaretto) we did some shopping for cheese, sliced meats, fresh bread, a few veggies and some beer, of course. We got home just as it began to rain and enjoyed our little picnic upstairs. This might have been a good place to end the evening, but we had noticed the presence of an Irish pub near our B&B so of course we had to go check it out. There was live music, which sadly was not authentic, but the drinks were! We all enjoyed some favorites from the last European adventure and then called it a night.

The next morning we had breakfast and it was lovely, the breakfasts on this trip really have been good! There was fruit and yogurt, breads (and Nutella!), good coffee, and one of our hosts made us omelets. We set out for, surprise, surprise, another brewery tour. We do love those so. This one was very interesting, mostly because it came with a rather funny guide. She did the tour in two languages and still delivered all the info with great wit. At the end of the tour we were all served a beer, which meant we started drinking before noon, which means we could officially claim that we "drank all day." Photos were taken of watches and glasses as evidence, but did you really need it?

The rest of the day included more wandering, buying an art tile to add to our collection for this country (again, very easy, we're lucking out), some frites, some beer... and some of the best street sweets yet. I had these apple rings, dipped in batter and fried. Heaven! Everyone laughed at me, or rather the smile that was stuck on my face for the next hour. We never did sit down to a lunch, so we went out in search of a good sit down dinner. Now, throughout the day, though properly bundled up, we'd all been quite cold. The wind had picked up and when it hit my face I almost felt like I was back in Zurich. Aha! A dinner idea! I suggested going back to the fondue place PZ had noticed earlier in the day. We found it and were promptly seated upstairs alone, which was actually quite all right with us. We fried a little meat, dipped bread and fruit in delicious melted cheese, and even had a little salad. It was a good time.

Today we started with a walk out to the edge of town to see some windmills, and the rain started coming down as we headed back towards the center of town. The weather made it a good morning to hit a few museums and churches. Much of the art at the big museum in town is religious, and honestly, it all starts looking the same to me. But there were plenty of pieces I did enjoy. Including one called Venice at Night, which was practically all black, except you can just make out some arches and metal work that seemed to scream Venice. Around 1:30 we decided to get some lunch, we were all feeling like some veggies would be a good idea, and we found a vegetarian place with some tasty salads. The group split up for a bit, I picked up some more liquorice from a place I found yesterday, D bought a cute little bag, and CF continued to practice his counting in French. I grabbed another toasty waffle and we came back to the B&B. And that's where we are now!

Tonight is our last night in Belgium, CF is coping well with the separation anxiety. He's done a fantastic job of guide us through this nation of beer. I've learned... and actually enjoyed... quite a lot. We're going out for beer, then going to dinner at a place with a good beer list. Hopefully we'll be smart enough to go to bed at a decent time. We leave for Paris early tomorrow morning! Goodbye waffles, hello crepes!

We're so lucky to have this opportunity and these friendships. We're having a great time.

The halfway mark.

Hello from Ghent, Belgium!

Sunday we left Amsterdam, our suitcase wheels rolling along the cobblestones in the morning quiet was sort of sad. We boarded our first French train and arrived in Brussels in what seemed like no time. The Z's sent us a text message saying the had missed their connection in London and we're on standby for a later flight, obviously they weren't going to beat us to the city after all. So we dropped our bags at the funny little "Downtown Residence" and went out to wander. We ended up sitting down for a beer and that's where D found us! Luckily I had mentioned a few days earlier the first bar that CF wanted to try. What fun to be in another country and suddenly have one of your best friends show up at the table!

Eventually everyone arrived, the Z's luggage did too, several hours after them. Our hotel was run by a funny (okay, dirty) old man who was constantly drinking coffee but also always seemed at least a little bit tipsy. Our first dinner in town we decided to eat at his restaurant, he lured us in with a promise of an 11euro meal, but then we said fish sounded good when he asked so we ended up paying more. Oh well, it was so worth it. The starter was scallops and shrimp in a delicious tomato and creme fraiche sauce. He made us an amazing meal, practically by himself, what an experience!

The next morning we went out to see the murals of Brussels, a walking tour suggested in our book. Comic book artists are so well respected here they get to do public murals all the time! We tried to go to the Comic museum but found out it was closed. It was Monday! All the museums were closed. Whoops! So we went for a great walk around the city, which included a beautiful park and a cute part of town we hadn't seen yet. We picked up some Belgian chocolates and wandered back towards our hotel. We found a great place for lunch and everyone had mussels and frites.

What happened next made me very sad... we figured out how to use the internet at the hotel, but we tried to switch from wireless to wired just as my camera was downloading photos onto the laptop. The computer froze, and the photo files were corrupted. I lost over 24 hours of Brussels photos. So sad!!! I spent the last evening trying to take some of those photos over again, but they're just not the same. Therefore my shots of Brussels are weak in comparison to other stops on this trip.

The next day we made it to the comic book museum, it was very cool. We also hit the musical instrument museum where you put on headphones and infrared sensors played music for you featuring the instruments you were looking at. Brussels didn't turn out to be nearly as charming as Amsterdam, but it is worth a visit... try the frites, they're delish! Oh, and the waffles! I didn't mention the waffle I had, it was served to me on a napkin or two with a huge ladle full of chocolate sauce on it. It was damn near impossible to eat without getting everywhere but my goodness it was amazing.

Okay, so on to Ghent. Cute place! And our lodging is fantastic. It was described as a B&B but there's only three rooms so we take up the whole place and the owner has basically left us to enjoy it. As we settled in I found a CD player and hit play. Billie Holiday was an uber-cool addition to this already fabulous place. We had take away cheap dinner the first night and I was so glad to not be in a restaurant. As much as I love going out to dinner, it gets old! The next morning we went for a walking tour (self guided with the help of a guidebook or two), saw the cathedral and Gravensteen Castle (very cool!), and had a little lunch. More honey drizzled over goat cheese for me. This is becoming a favorite. After lunch we split up the group a little and CF and I went for a wander. We got to see a little bit more residential part of town. This is a really cute place. Though I don't know if the residents would like me consistently using that word.

After a little rest the group met back up and we hit the town. We went to an incredible gin bar that I think there must be nothing like anywhere in the world. Dutch gin is different than English gin, it's all made with grain, so it's not like drinking a tree (I am not a gin girl if you couldn't tell). And the man who runs this gin bar has many straight gins to buy shots of, but he's also concocted amazing flavored drinks. They're already mixed in the bottle, and he pours you a shot glass full, you can sip it just fine though. The tiramisu drink was incredible! This place is another little gem I am so happy to have experienced in the world.

I am speeding through the trip because I don't have as much free time now, because there's socializing to be done! We're leaving Ghent today and headed to Brugges for 3 nights. There are more waffles, frites and chocolates to be enjoyed!

On the road again...

Tomorrow we leave our little Amsterdam hideaway and head to Brussels where we will be joined by some of our friends who were a part of the Hell Yes! Ireland adventure we had two summers ago. They're already en route to Europe, I can't wait to see them. Though CF and I have actually learned a lot about communicating well when it's just the two of this during the course of the week. At the start of the week we had a hard time figure out when to cross the street, you see there's bikes and cars to be dodged coming from every direction. Inevitably one of us would get left behind, or maybe start to go and then stop in the middle of traffic as we realized the other person didn't come with us... but we got pretty darn good at navigating the chaos together and ended up able to read each other much better, and we cross the street together now, well, most of the time.

We seem to be doing all right on the health front, both of us have been taking more than enough vitamin C. CF says he already feels better, and I'm not showing any signs of actually coming down with anything. Knock on wood. We've taken it very easy the past couple days. The last time I posted we didn't leave the house till almost 1pm and actually, that's the way it's gone with both of the two following days. Yesterday I left sniffling, snoring CF sleep in and then I made us both breakfast with crepes, cheese, prosciutto, tomatoes and fresh thyme. Yum! I was so happy standing there making this meal in my little Ikea kitchen, it did hit me though that there is no reason why I can't feel like that at home. It is a good reminder to take as much pleasure in life as possible.

The opposite of pleasure is what we encountered when we went out to lunch a bit later. There was a cafe in my guidebook that was supposed to have fantastic apple pie. We sat down and had some very nice sandwiches on delicious wheat bread (mine was a big slice of goat cheese, fresh spinach and honey). I saw several people get served apple pie, so I said to the waiter, "Could we get one of those, too?" I was all pleased with myself that we didn't even have to bring up the much sought-after pie, it just showed up next to me. But the book also mentioned the service can be bad. And oh dear was it ever! The waiter who had taken my pie order was not the one who brought it out, and the guy who did got confused and couldn't figure out who it was for even though I tried to subtly wave him down. Our pie disappeared into the back room, never to be seen again. We waited... and waited... I asked about it to the original waiter and he said he'd bring it. Waited... waited... and finally gave up. CF got up to go pay, and the waiter saw this and suddenly arrived at our table with a slice of pie, he was totally just trying to mess with me, in his haste he hadn't even put the cream on the plate. I told him nicely we were about to pay and to take it back. I sadly watched the pie go away again. I felt like such a fool for going to this place where we had been warned the service was bad. No amount of gezellig could get you through that experience. I plan on writing to the guidebook and suggesting that they take them out and add the place right across the narrow street, we went there several days ago (when I had the Irish Coffee) and it was such a nicer experience.

I shook off the awkward, angry feelings before we got to the grocery store. We needed a few more things to get us through the week. We have been impressed that this isn't even an upscale store and their quality of product is really quite high. And I've enjoyed shopping every day or so, eating everything while it's fresh. Very little went to waste.

That afternoon we walked way, way across town to a microbrewery, which turned out to be inside a windmill! Very cool. We weren't really sure what to expect. The place was more in a residential and not quite so moneyed part of town. What we found looked to be mostly just a bar, with long tables and chairs, and walls lined with all kinds of beer bottles. We ordered a drink and found a seat. Another bartender arrived and when she opened the door to the back room a cat ran out and immediately started brushing up against my leg. They seem to love their shop dwelling cats here. Shortly after getting a refill the barman announced that he'd be giving the free tour of the brewery! So we got up and joined a young American couple, and about 4 or 5 Dutch men. They were very nice and let the guide do the tour in English. We learned a lot about how they brew beer there, and got a funny show when the cat came into the room and started to mess around with things, it must have been a kitten (at least at heart). When the tour was over we went back to the bar and found the place was now packed with locals! We managed to find seats again though and ended up talking to a really nice couple. It's amazing to sit down and share a piece of your world with someone else and hear of theirs in return. I'm afraid to report that I should have called it quits at least a beer or two sooner than I did. I remember very little of the rainy walk home, except poor CF holding my hand tightly. And this morning I woke up dehydrated and the apartment got rather stuffy in the more humid weather, I felt like I was losing my mind! But CF returned the favor from the day before and made me a crepe for breakfast and got me back on my feet.

We decided to go out wandering and do some shopping and that we'd probably have dinner at home. I finally bought a bag from the shop I'd seen a couple of times during the week. I think my laptop will fit in it perfectly, it's a really nice bag, and I just love that it was made by a small little company in Amsterdam that just grew out of a stand at one of the flea markets. Who knows, maybe they'll be famous someday and I'll have one of their early products. We went to another market, they have so many here! This one was my favorite by far, so full of good looking food. We got some herring on rolls finally... one raw and one fried. This is a classic Dutch snack so we figured we'd better try it. It was very salty, but it tasted pretty good. It started to rain a little as we walked away and we ended up ducking into a cafe for a coffee (CF had a beer). The rain cleared up quickly though. That seems to be the way it goes here, at least for this time of year. We walked way up Northwest and saw a park, I got us a little lost on the way back but I did managed to find another fresh doughnut stand. Maybe I wasn't lost after all. We made it back to our neighborhood and I marveled in another beautiful day in a beautiful place. I finally saw the Ann Frank House, but like I said, we weren't going in. Lots of people sure do though, the line was extremely long. I just sent some extra good spirit vibes out into the world and figured that was a more positive influence I could make right now. Not to be trite, but speaking of positive influences, we made one last stop at Puccini Bombini. Man, do I hope they go international someday! CF didn't come in with me and he disappeared down the street. Later I would tease him that I thought he had finally run off to a "coffeeshop" and he would joke that it was actually the red light district. But the truth is he followed a gut feeling and finally found the sewing kit I have been keeping an eye out for all week. Shortly after we got here I realized a button on my trench coat was coming loose, and I regretted not taking the sewing kit from our hotel room in Cologne. I've managed to hang on to the button all week, but now, thanks to CF, it's sewn back on securely.

We came back upstairs and considered staying home till dinner time, then going out one last time. But considering we'll be going out plenty once everyone else arrives we decided to instead go back out for one last Amsterdam fix and then come home for dinner and stay in for the night. We have a little tradition of always buying an art print (or at least something to hang on the wall, we brought back a photo from Ireland) in the countries we visit. I hadn't really thought of it in Zurich, I guess I wasn't taken enough, or else I was too distracted by the luxemburgerli cookies! And we were in Cologne only one night. We hoped to find something from the Netherlands though and we had looked quickly at one shop earlier in the day. Nothing was quite right. I remembered a shop I had seen either the night we arrived or the next morning. And managed to find it again, and in a matter of 5 minutes we had selected a piece to buy! I just love it when things work out so well.

We wandered around a little while longer, took a few last photographs, had one more cone of frites, picked up one last round at De Bierkoning (I forgot to mention that the tour guide last night mentioned he worked there! And tonight he was there and remembered us, "So, you survived all right then? At least you had fun!") and headed home. We spent the evening packing, sewing on buttons, and CF cooked some great salmon and veggies. He's gone to bed, I should join him as soon as possible, our train leaves tomorrow around 9am.

The trip will change from here on out, and I don't know what our internet options will be like. So I apologize if you don't here from me for a while. As always, my focus will be on getting photos up when I have the chance. Thanks for reading and who knows, maybe I can keep up with the writing still. We shall see!