Friday: A castle, a backpack, and me

Friday:
I got to Cacase (sp this right light) at the french border at 8:00. I made the 5:50 train because one of my roomates was kind enough to start snoring at the usual 4am time.
There were lockers in Carcase, but they were all out of commission (with signs all over the place, due to saftey plan. no lockers) and I didn't have time to search out a locker in town, so they came with me. I could store them in Carcassone when I saw the castle.
After the 2 hr train north I got to Carcassone. No lockers at the station either. Snuck into McDonalds to use the restroom. I Love McDonalds. I bet many a backpacker has uttered that very phrase before. Especially in france.

Walked to the tourist office. Surely they'd have luggage storage. No. And there was no luggage storage lockers or places anywhere due to the threat of bombs. So my backpack and three bags would be walking to and seeing the castle as well. So we did, but first a small rant.

Taking lockers away is not going to alleviate a bomb threat. "Oh shoot. This town has no luggage storage. We couldn't possibly use a trash can, a toilet, a hole, a bush, under a seat or bus. Nope. Lets go to spain. They have luggage storage."

I trudged to the castle and made up a story to lift my spirts- I was Learai, a scarf peddler, going to the great castle of Carcassone. *I can't fathom the people who hike with their enourmous bag through mountains for months. * I love hiking. but free and fancy hiking. scramble around and roll down a hill hiking. No 20 pounds or more on my back. THe bags probably made it a little worse.

The castle and cite was really cool. My backpack and bags agreed.

Took train back to cacais. was able to sleep pretty well.

Got to nice, booked seat to genova. then grab train to place by la spezia. love me.

Barcelona: Wednesday and Thursday

Wednesday:
I just made some friends from estonia and japan and we are drinking wine and eating cheese and bread. more later.

Hahahahahaha
Turtle this is for you- red shoes is currently playing (and lorio to. but you should know with turtle it`s not a good thing because once I did a dance for her to this entire song (in red slippers- I think while she was stuck in bed and forced to watch in horror)- and the upsetting image is always in her mind when she hears this song, so the naughty part of my heart takes deep, glee filled joy in that.). . heh heh (I love you turtle). When I get back- just for you, I`ll do my red shoes dance. *mouth wide open in a sort of smile* move the hands ´ĺets dance!´ *kick up feet!* `put on your red shoes *show red shoes, face gets really excited like a mad person* great fun.

MAIL
"So how much sir, to send this little purse (just 12 by 9 by 4) filled with love, kisses and scarves?"
"40€"

I went and sat on a bench. I would travel with a chicken, no... two live cats before I spent or let anyone else spend 40€ on a little package. Even to send just a tshirt was €9.

I walked past the ocean. There were men selling sunglasses, pirated dvds, and then the scarve sellers. They looked at me. I looked at them. My bag dug into my shoulder. "No, I'm good."

Sat on the beach. nice.

Thursday: Visit Granollers and English School
Went fine. liked the school. Kind of dissopointed in granollers for the only reason I had it in my head it was a quaint safe village and instead its a city like town where you have to be aware. but I wouldn't be going to the school for the town. THey have a great market though.

links and stuff

Here are some links to some of the things I`ve been talking about. I wont do this again, since you can google just as well as me if you are curious. =)

This is the Alhambra

Some links on the easter week (Semana Santa) procession in Spain

Scroll down, more semana santa hooded people

the sagrada familia
more sagrada-lots of pics

park guell

the lettering and fruit don`t look as bad here... but believe me...

there were fantastic views from up top park guell

Barcelona: Monday and Tuesday

There is some to right about the night train, but not much. Because I actually slept. Couchettes are really nice. I woke up and 4 and realized I had a stomach! Not a boiling pit of anger. It was just there, laying down, relaxing. I slept 8 hours. The bunk was a little short, you have to be 5`7 to be able to spread out like a sensible person. but it is really nice to not have any sleep or sanity to catch up on.

When I got to the station I forced myself to make the reservation to Italy. Friday/Sat is going to be fun, I can tell.

First, I have to use two train days. That fine, I planned on this. I might do a little siteseeing in france friday. Catch the train at cerebre (right by french border, take the night train to Nice. Simple enough. But then I take the train to Genova. I asked the train guy if I had to make a reservation for the nice-genova 3 hour leg and he shrugged "youll be in Nice for two hours... (you can figure it out when you`re there. i`m done with you *smile*)" I love how you have to reserve at the specific station.

then I have to get to la spezia from genova on another train and according to barcelona train guy I get there at 4. I have to be to the campsite by 7 because the last bus-train leaves for it at 7.
This seems to be ok, I have a lot of padding in between... but it a saturday. the saturday of the May 1st weekend (huge holiday in europe). So we`ll see.
I just reserved a seat. It only cost 2 euro. The couchette was wonderful, it was... but to only spend 2 euro on a reservation is also wonderful.

All the lines and questions kept me at the train station for 2 hours. I walked to the hostel at noon. Barcelona is pretty sunny and warm. Seeing Madrid, Granada, and Barcelona were important to me on the off chance I decide to take classes at any of them someday. Barcelona seems nice enough so far, except for the fact that for the hour I walked an absurd amount of sand/glass/debries kept blowing into my eyes and momentarily blinding me. The people walking with the wind didnt have the same problem. Two buissness men walked past me. "hello!" one of them said, checking me out. His friend stopped, looked me up and down with a big smile"hellloo!"
Now, picture with me if you will. A girl. She has gotten rest and has washed her face but has not brushed her hair which is tied up in a haphazard bun. She is dressed all in black. Black sweater zipped up, black skirt (with a pretty striped scarf tied around her waist), black pants, hiking boots.
Her body covered in bags. A large backpack, a big white canvas bag on one side, a big black purse on the other, a large red string grocery bag and a plastic sack.
You have several sexy women with their matching handbags and high heels clipping down the sidewalk. It is a very interesting choice. I kept walking "hola." I wasn`t about to give the wierdos (I assumed americans by their accents, or swedes, or very well taught spanish men- I don`t know) any satisfaction of answering them in english. "ahh! my eyes!"

I am now going to make a sandwhich and do something a little silly and unplanned. There is this Celta (teaching english as a second language)school a half hour away I want to check out. It a half hour away and my train pass is still valid today. at most I´ll save 4 dollars.
I havn`t called or written, I`m just going to bop into the school and someone will be waiting for me. "why. You are so cute we are going to give you the month long course for free.¨ or at the very least ¨ please come and sit in the classes tomorrow.¨
Awww. thanks.

more about yesterday and today later.

I didnt get to Granollers. I quickly walked the hour to the train station and the only way to get to the train (without annoying someone) was to have a ticket to put in the metro like machine. So I decided to be a good girl and write the school, see if they write me back, and have a good day to explore the town. (and just pay the 3.80 round trip ticket) I walked around a huge, famous pedestrian steet, Las Ramblas.

my gosh my hostel is infested with children. little tittering 18 yearold kids. And if they aren`t. It`s all groups. groups. groups. groups. (or girls with their boyfriends and friends- also known as a group) I made a mistake with this one. But I have been spoiled for a week with fellow independent travelers and this hostel is really clean. That because crazy cleaning people rush around. You don`t ever want to be in their way.

Tuesday.
I`m waiting for the the kitchen to open. Its closed for breakfast. I popped in to grab my olive oil, because I dont eat bread without olive oil and (I didn`t bring it with me from Granada to not use it) got sternly reminded the kitchen was closed. But I got my olive oil. I had nutella on some of my bread just for kicks for breakfast. I maybe shouldnt have. I talk a lot about my body. but it has it`s own personality, and we do spend a lot of time together. We walk, we eat, we sleep, we talk.

After I make a turkey sandwhich, I plan to have a Gaudi day. That`s the main reason I wanted to see Barcelona. See Park Guell, sagrada familia. I dont think I`ll pay to go up it- I`ll hike up the free mountain for a view. I love finding views, but unless you live in the city (or really know it)- views high above the city sort of start to become all the same. Ooo look. It`s the city! and it`s small! Like those above air postcards or pictures that become boring if you see too many.).

¨this is one of the better hostels I`ve stayed at.¨ a guy is saying. That`s because you are in a group bophead and that`s all there is here. Little round faced spawn. Oh bloody hell. Now they are talking about their plans for the day. same as me. Oh I shouldnt judge groups. Groups are fine. Groups are everywhere. But when That`s all there is (and they are all of the age 16-18)... then I feel like I might as well just go back to highschool.
.......
Just got back from my 8 hour walk. I am making two sandwhiches before I go to bed (somehow will need to find a way to grab them out of the fridge and restricted kitchen in the morning). i am actually surrounded by people around my age, though they are all in groups as well. It`s not that I really needed or was pining for a friend in Barcelona. I only have 4 days and a lot to do it those days.
It`s just I went from being completly alone for 8 days (not including the day with Livia) to being surrounded by friends for 5 days and when I saw the 50 german and french students walk in with their rolling suitcases it hit me that I was probably back in for another stretch of quality michelle time.

Last night I saw a girl sitting by herself and she had brown hair so I went and sat beside her. "so are you traveling by yourself?"
I`m starting to get over the fear of possibly feeling like a needy emotional leech (yep. I have a fear of feeling like an emotional leech by simply talking to/introducing myself to people. You know those people who will just latch on to anyone? How they look like they might stop breathing if they don`t have someone around them or with them? I think somewhere along the line due to wanting to be as far away from that possiblity as I could (and to never be thought as that kind of person) I took it to the opposite extreme... It`s not part of the concrete of my isolation, but that`s one of the reasons that kept me in it.).
I am simply saying hello. And if they aren`t interested in saying hello back. Too bad.
She wasn`t (traveling by herself). she wasn`t even staying at the hostel, she was waiting for her friend who was working. We talked a little. I did ask her (since she said she lived in Barcelona) where to find good thrift stores. She didn`t know any (only the expensive ones I had already found). You have to know where good thrift stores are if you live somewhere. That´s a rule. Granted she`s swedish and has only lived here 3 months, but she`hasn`t been working-just hanging out. So it`s like she`s been here 6.

My Barcelona days: One day was getting settled in, the next was a Gaudi day, the next (tommorow) will be a anything day- will walk along the water and the olympic part, and run a few errands (post office (heh heh heh) and I want to get my journal entries printed so I can fill in the blanks and need to find a resonably cheap place to do this... the net places charge .30 a page), and thursday I`m going to go to the Granollers school (they wrote me back and they want me to come at lunchtime so we can talk. eek! But I´m glad I´m doing it. I´ve been thinking about possibly pursuing a (teaching english as a second language) certificate at this very school for a long time (maybe a year, maybe two), and to not even step foot in it when I`m a half hour away is incredibly wasteful. I`m a little more comfortable with just walking in front of the school after I walked through town, running my hands on the wall and getting it`s vibe, but I decided to take a small step towards the land of reality and action by talking to the teachers. Gosh, my email to them... I feel so absurd writing letters to schools or jobs. But it did get the job done.
And day 5 (friday) really isn`t going to be in Barcelona. I am going to get up early and by some miracle get to the train station by 6am or 7am. Probably 8am. The only thing I have to do is be in Cadeces by 9pm and since I have to use a train day to get there, I am going to do a little traintouring of southeast spain and southwest france. I would really like to see Carcassone. I should probably look up that info now.

What I did Tuesday:
Got up at 8,
ate, used net, went upstairs and sat on my bed and stared a little as I got my bag together, took a shower, used net again, made a sandwhich, walked out the door at 1pm. My utter lack in being able to get out the door anytime before 11am is not something I really like about myself.

I walked up the Ramblas to the University in search of a printing place, didn`t find one, went to the Sagrada Familia (oh my) The first thought I had when I saw it was: They took a episcopalian church (I think I`ve got the right denomination there) and an adult movie theater and smashed them together. There is fruit on this church. Fruit. It is too bad I couldn`t have offered my services to Gaudi: "Gaudi dear, I think you are a true original and I really like a lot of your work. But if you really think that having big words (in color) stapled to a cathedral is a good idea... I think maybe you should just... not do that." (you can`t tell an old man he has to retire due to the fact that he`s loosing his mind in the first conversation you have with him.) Fruit!
The main part is almost acceptable if you try (though you really can`t) ignore the adult enterainment ebelishments. Sanclus, Sanclus, Sanclus, Sanclus, Sanclus, HOSANNA, EXCELSIS, Apostles, Apostles, Apostles. I guess Gaudi didn`t think people could possibly guess which apostle was which. Or that they were apostles. There won`t be guidebooks or tourguides in 100 years to tell them this! I must let them know! In 4 foot font! This is TIMOTHY. and he is an APOSTLE. and this is JOHN and he is an APOSTLE. All around the church in windows are huge statues of these apostles, and on one side in huge letters in their name and on the other is the word APOSTLE. It is truly hideous. But not as hideous as the fruit. On the left hand side is a dark nice looking church, but on the right is white stone with 6 pointed triangles. But their points have been split by piles of fruit and various grains. I just kept looking at it. Is that fruit? Glazed, 6 foot piles of fruit on a church?
I was about to run away but decided to look at the other side. This turned out to be the original part of the church. (I had been looking at the new part). I could almost see what Gaudi was doing. Even faded after 100 years the APOSTLES and the HOSANNA was still just a horrible idea. And the garish stars on the tops were also questionable. But on this part was all around the church were well done statues illustrating christ`s life (the ones on the other side were very unfinished) that did make you look and think. But Gaudi... Gaudi... fruit?! Yes, yes, I know, the fruits of the spirit (if that`s where you were going with it, because I can`t possibly think of anything else)... but those verses are actually there for you to live them, not put them in crappy theme park like fashion on a cathedral.

I walked the hour or two to Park Guell.

At about 4:30 a whole bunch of little kids were walking home from school with their parents, eating sandwhiches (on exceptable rustic bread) and drinking from juice boxes. A boy was sitting with his grandma in a bakery eating his pastry as she looked on. It made the long street have a nice feel to it.

Park Guell was great. See, you can go to town with parks, and I`ll go with it. Ugly dragon? Sure! splattered together brown stone? why not? (but. not. on. a. cathedral. that you are trying to make this serious reverent experince.) The incredibly long curvy bench was fabulous.

(people waiting for the net)

Sunday Night Train to Barcelona

I woke up at 8, took a shower, ate breakfast and packed up my stuff.

Fernando, Mariana and I walked around the Albycin. I felt somewhat powerless, needing to always be people in narrow european streets and neighborhoods (that have warnings), but it is nice to walk with friends. I will especially miss Marianna, wearing her cool clothes as she smokes her ciggarette and drinks her matte.

With my bag and purse, I also have a bag of scarves (didn`t get to the post office yesterday) and a large sack of groceries. And my bottle of olive oil. And a bottle of white wine. I will look lovely walking to the train station.

I`ve been flushed for two days now and I wish I knew why so I could stop avoiding things like icecream cones, chocolate and wine. Either it`s because I am a girl (I love how I still get perplexed every month. Why am I in pain? Why am I craving sweet and salt so much? Why do I feel all strange? Oh yeah...) or I`ve gotten too much sun or my body likes how much tea and vegetables I`ve been eating so that makes my face flushed with a healthy glow. I`ll know in a few days, until then I`ll just have to sort of behave.

Last night I had (fresh) artichokes, vegetable lasanga, lettuce and apple salad, and spicy gazpacho (which made me happy because I have now done everything on my list for granada. 1. see the alhambra 2. see flamenCO 3. Walk around the albycin 4. Have a spanish dish. (gazpacho was high on the list) That`s a big list for 6 days. and I completed it.

Granada: Friday and Saturday

Friday:
I don`t really have any specific plans today as to what to see.
Probably will just walk for a few hours (and cook/eat all my grocery purchases). I was going to go to Cordoba today with a group, but it would have been a 6 hour total bus ride for €22 and €8 to see the mosque, and I only have two full days left in Granada and have only seen a third or less of the city.

Plus I really need to figure out what I`m doing the last few weeks. Part of me is dreaming up ways to stay in southern spain (grocery stores are very powerful places) for three more months after Italy until my passport entry runs out. In my mind are visions of me floating around with glorious fruits/veggies in hippie clothes while becoming fluent in spanish. But another part of me knows I wouldn`t realstically have funds for those cheap groceries/hippie clothes, while living somewhere does make you learn the language faster- it`s not like I`ve made any big effort up to this point to learn it (I do seriously plan to though). I could find a place to wwoof at for a few months but I would really like to keep my plane trip back (and move) to Chicago (and I wouldn`t want to miss a certain someone´s (whose michelleappointed name ends with lou) big day). Maybe in the next two years.

Today or tommorrow I have to get my memory cards clean. " I won`t take 600 pictures". but I did. I thought they would fit 800 pics each but they`ve only fit 250.
..................
I got up at 8:00 am and everyone was sleeping. I made a tasty ham and mushroom omlete and ate my bread. After I cleaned up all my cooking and took a shower everyone was up about 11. I hung out outside in the sun.
At noon i made a lunch and went walking with Marianna, Fernando from spain, Alexandra (a French-Canadian whose parents are from chile so she`s fluent in spanish as well), a girl from argentina, and a girl from italy who complained everytime we walked up a hill. And since we were walking up hills the whole time, she wasn`t my favorite person. Many things inspired her complaints. She left and we walked through the neighorhood I had been through many times, we had a picnic, walked around the albycin neighborhood.
The talkativeArgentinian girl doesn`t speak english and I don`t speak any spanish and could peacefully entertain myself with a paperclip, so the language of choice was mostly spanish. I was in my own little world for part of the day. The funny thing was, Marianna and Fernando were trying to make sure I was left out, but for the conversations they chose to interprete for me- I already knew what they were saying.
Fernando was teasing the Argentinians by singing ¨don`t cry for me Argentina¨and then they were talking and in the same cords I heard them trying to do it in spanish. He then turned to me ¨We are trying to figure out the words for ¨don`t cry for me argentina¨in spanish. I just smiled öh...¨
I let Marianna in on this fact that night after she turned to me and explained to me that they were asking the sandwhich guy where he was from and he had said he was from morroco. (The donde and the morroco kind of clued me in).
I told her if they gesture a lot and mention a place or a specific word I know, I can usually correctly guess. The other 80% of the time I have no clue. (and if it`s printed I can usually get the general clue to some extent)

We got back at 6 and cooked. Yesshie was sitting on the porch eating bread and olive oil. ¨You`re having bread and olive oil.¨ I said., posed to say ¨I bloody told you so¨ with grand finish.
He looked at me and raised an eyebrow and pointed the bread at me ¨steamed bread and olive oil.¨
¨Hah!¨ but that`s all I got out because I was too pleased about spreading culinary joy and proper bread care around the world.

Fernando, Marianna, and I really need to find out her name, and swedish guy left to what i thought wsa a hike up to the Alhambra, that seeing as I had already done twice, I opted to cook some soup, read, and look at the clouds. But when they got back they had decided on a whim to walk up to the caves. They were really nice clouds though.

Went and saw a flamenco show for €10 with Marianna and other argentinian girl in a "cave" (a basement that had been shallaced to look like a cave.) It was pretty good. Lots of people out on the streets. Got home at 2am.

Saturday:
Woke up at 10. The sun was a bit of a shock.
Told Yesshie about the flamenco show.
¨flaminco?¨he said
¨Yeah, flamingo.¨
I think he`s done this to me before and I answered the same way so he made it obvious because I my pick the first and last letter and make something up was killing him...
¨It`s flamen-CO. Not flamin-GO. that`s a bird you doffus." (I don`t think he employs this method when he teaches, but the communal cooking and commonlove of veggies made it ok.)
I think I`ve been saying flamin-go to everyone in the hostel and I`m recalling more than one person repeating it back some form . hah.

cooked and now im here. Every night the hostel offers dinner for €4 but I had so many groceries I usually decline. But I`m going to eat with them tonight, If I don`t I know I`m going to go shopping and be carrying three bags of vegetables and fruits with me.

Sunday: night train to barcelona. I will be in style in a couchette (a bunk on the train) it cost me €28 (this was my reservation), but it was the only way to get on the sunday night train, and since I only have 4 nights in barcelona, it will be nice to possibly not be dead when I arrive.

Granada: Wednesday and Thursday

Wednesday:
Today is another walk around/grocery shopping day.
Tomorrow I plan to wake up really early and brave the dark to the Alhambra to wait in line.

Did a reconisence mission to the Alhambra. There are two roads that lead there. The main one and one that is a lot closer to the hostel. I walked up the closer one at noon and decided it wouldn´t be very safe at 6am in the pitch black. It would just be you and the hills, the scheming gypsys, a back way halfhour long staircase that is only used in the day by people. I had been told you could walk around the Alhambra grounds for free, but it didn`t look like that. However, as I was walking down the main path, I saw a door several people were wakling through, I went up to it, expecting to see a guard, I walked further in and still saw noone other than guests exiting. I entered the grounds. Even though I was going on many a fellow travelers word, I felt like I shouldn`t be there and kept expecting to feel a hand on my shoulder. But the guards were more concerned with the entrence to the palace and the tower to bother with someone walking aroud the museum and bathroom/snack area. I walked back down and got a doner kebab and an icecream cone in the arab bazarr, didn`t feel too good.

I found the bakrey with the amazing chabata bread but it was gone, so I bought a bagette there that was hard and crusty, so i bought large round bread, it was the same.
After a long walk, was a little less elated at the market.

I was looking at the soup stock cubes, bullion cubes and was almost run over by 7 very excited asian women. Bullion! they exclaimed as the filled their arms with it. Each had a years worth supply of bullion cubes in their arms. it was about.39 for 15 cubes... but if anyone could explain this excitement over stock cubes... I know about soup and all but it was very interesting...
but still bought 10 pounds worth of stuff and hauled it back the 2 miles. Walked through several enchanting squares.
I found another bakrey with chabata bread for .80 and bought it. way too much bread. But I knew a way to revive the mediocore stuff.
...........
A little story:
I love bread very much. I love to buy bread. But there was a time in my life where I wasn`t very responsible about eating everything on time, so it would be wasted. And quality wasted bread is sad (that or I wouldn`t want to eat anything but the bread and everything else would rot). I tried not buying it but I go a little loopy if there is no bread anywhere near me. It feels like something is missing. So I started freezing the bread after I had enjoyed a resonable amount of it.
A little nuking, a plate of olive oil and salt later and I had the greatest snack on earth. I always had bread. Well then I moved into a microwave-less apartment. What would I do? How would I live? Then it came to me. I could steam it! i could heat water in a small pan and set the bread on top and the steam from the water would heat and soften the bread.
............
Yesshie the australian english teacherwas also in the kitchen when I got in. Every day we ask eachother what we did. ¨I went to the supermarket¨ I`ll say with a smile. ¨I did to¨ he`ll say and then we have a contest of sorts as we cook as to who had the more fufilling trip. ¨I got artichokes!¨ ¨Well I got brown bread!¨
Gosh I love australian boys. Not in a I want to marry them all kind of way (that I thought I had for anyone english until I heard a cockney accent). They are just nice to have around. I`ll feel like a hostel is lacking, all the guys will annoy me in some way at first and then there will be someone laid back, confident, and fun- and australian.
I proudly showed my lovely bottle of olive oil. ¨This is coming with me¨
Yesshie looked at the delicate class bottle and laughed ¨You are going to take so much energy trying to not break that.¨
¨It has a handle to carry it.¨
But before he could laugh at me too much I presented him with something else to be amused by as I put my hunk of bread over the pot of water. I tried to explain to him the (above) story and howwith a good crusty bread it works. It`s not soggy and it gives it back it`s fresh baked texture. but he couldn`t stop looking at the bread waiting to be steamed and laughing.
¨It makes it taste better.¨
¨You like soggy bread.¨
¨It won`t be soggy¨
We cooked and he kept laughing at me but agreed to try it. ¨It`s warm.¨ Yes it is. BAM!



Met a girl from Argentina with a question about the Alhambra and 5 minutes later I had someone to walk there with in the early morning (on the previsited safe path)


Thursday: Alhambra
Maryanna and I got to the Alhambra at 6:50. There was already 304 people in line. I know because I counted them. I also asked what time the start of the line got there, a little before 5. I can`t count descretly, my head bobs and my head points, so I either got looks of "what the heck is she on..", amused smirks, or people asking me in 5 different languages what number they were. 150 I said. "Ahhh..."
At 8am there were about 1,000 or more in line (I just did a guesstamint for that). And this was on a nontourist crazed day.
I had come prepared and consumed a gronaola bar, a ham sandwhich, two eggs with olive oil and salt, and a salad.
At 8:30 they started getting things going. At 9 we bought our tickets. Because the Alhambra is so popular, only 20 percent of the tickets are available for the public on any given day, the rest are all reserved. And of the shmucks who wait in line the day of, only 80 or something are allowed into the tower and place per hour. So, being #305 we couldn`t enter the palace or tower till 12:30. We could see the genralife gardens (the sultan`s summer retreat, which amused me the first time I heard it. I had been expecting having to do a daytrip to see his summer getaway and then foundout it was a 5 minute walk away.) and the spot I had snuck into yesterday.

More later.
In short the alhambra was amazing and totally worth it. €10 and 7 hours. usually I get bored after a while, but every room and garden i walked into I was struck. Even with all the people, I almost forgot they were there... until I tried to take a picture without people in it. =)

Maryanna needed to grocery shop, and i went along to support her.
And buy .79 pate (tastes like liverwurst.. is it liverwurst?) , lotion, white wine, a .59 dark chocolate bar (yeah, maryanna was going to through away a cake she didn`t like and I ate it... confirming there is no taste adversion to chocolate... but there is an exteme caution still, so that`s good), mushrooms, and olives. Made an amazing asian soup. with a stock cube and fresh lettuce and mushrooms I pan cooked a little first and rice noodles. delicious.

Granada: Monday and Tuesday

Monday
Took a freezing cold shower, waited in line forever to check out. After that line ran down to grab my food, kitchen was locked. I have a turkey sandwich with lettuce in there! knocked and knocked.
" the kitchen is closed" (it does close at 10:30 and it was exactly 10:30, but we aren`t allowed to have food in our rooms either)
I just need to grab my bag of food, my bus is leaving...
¨the kitchen is closed¨ (i figured out afterward this probably was all the english he knew)
I could see other hostelers in the kitchen eating and talking. The guy was standing off to the side so I just pointed, walked into the kitchen, grabbed my bag and left.
I walked quickly to the bus station, eating my turkey sandwich. it was really good. I had toasted the bread, buttered it, layered both sides with turkey (so the lettuce wouldn`t mess up the bread) and then put my fresh lettuce in the middle).
I made the bus, again, with 20 minutes to spare. The ticketguy who gave me my printed out ticket when I showed him my reservation number said something that sounded like Leaves at 11:50. but I had reserved the 11:30 bus. there wsa no 11:50. The desk guy was busy with people, so I went down to the buses... looked around. There was nothing on the screens, nothing that would tell you where the bus left from. and I had 60 places to choose from.
I found a continental bus driver and showed him my ticket. veite tres. he said
ok. tres is 3. Veite. I ran through the numbers in my head and as I thought about my lost rick steves spanish phrase book that had the list of numbers, I forgot all the numbers I knew (1-100) over 10. is it 50? It was 15 minutes till and I was a close to maybe sort of panicing. BUt first I found a group of 18 year old girls (one of them had to know a little english). She did. Veite tres? Is it 53? yes.
Ok gra....
No wait! Veite tres. that`s 23.
gracias. I went to 23 and looked at the people around and pointed to the ground. Granada? they nodded. I ate the rest of my turkey sandwhich. This would have cost me $4 anywhere else. but from a €1 head of lettuce (also used in soup, salad, and another salad), €3 container of turkey (also another sandwhich, soup, and snack), and two slices of white toast and butter from my hostel breakfast- it was not only tasty but economical.

I really am missing on some sleep. Those accursed spanish girls. They were so loud and talkative. They came in at 1am and were whispering and whispering to eachother. I love how, when your bed is 2 feet from theirs, they think that by whispering for a half hour (and I`m being generous calling it whispering) you won`t disturb anyone.
After 45 minutes I had had it. Even my earplugs wouldn`t keep them out. They had had all day to talk.
"Porbavor!" I called out slightly sleep-drunkenly. I mumbled something and then softly went shhhh.
The worst one, girl 3, let out a loud muffled laugh. but shortly whispered "buenos noches" to her friend, snickered a little more. I`m sure it will become one of their many little inside jokes. And that is ok.

I had thrown my bag underneath with everyone elses, my camera was locked inside. This wasn`t a problem at first, the scenery was pretty uninspired for awhile. Factories, flat, with tje shadows of mountains in the distance, I finally closed the shade and tried to sleep.

This bus also didn`t have a bathrooñm, so we took a break. Only I didn`t know how long it was, because the driver announced it in spanish. I looked to the women next to me and she held up her hand 10 fingers and said something (in spanish). 10 minutes. I went to the restroom, and bought a bag of cheetos. Something about bus trips sometimes inspires me to eat crap. I got outside just within 10 minutes, I completly on mytoes with these bus breaks. I do not want to be left behind with everything I own but my moneybelt driving away. but noone came out and the bus was shut down. I walked around some more, still dead. I walked in and finally found some of the fellow passangers I recognized, they were pretty settled in, dipping their pastries in their hot chocolate or coffee. One was eating a sandwhich. I bought a crossaint for .90. It was bready and probably factory made but it was stilll 100 times better than the cheetos. I have to knock this off. I`m going to get so sick of crossaints.

I watched the 4 recognizable passangers, they still eren`t moving. I went and took a walk around the bus. after a 40 minute break, we were on our way.
I was reading and then something caught my eye, I opened the shade, just like that we were in the mountains. and they were amazing. my camera`s under the bus. how do I describe this? how do I remember this? I ran words through my head and nothing seemed to work. I was too tired to get set up to draw. I jsut settled for looking. I came up with something that night, and in the halfsleep thought it was close to genious, but since changed my mind...
I might put it up, we`ll see.

We got in at 5:00 (not the 415) and so all I wanted to do was get to myhostel before dark, since it was in a winding street, tourist drawing (therefore mugger drawing) neigbhorhood.

I`m sort of figuring out the meters vs. miles. I figured out if I walked to the hostel from the station it would be around 3 to 4 miles and I didn`t have that time so I took the city bus. I feel sorry for the granadians who have to take bus 3 or 33 everyday. Half of it was packed with people and their cumbersome suitcases/backpacks, yet somehow we kept managing to fit people on. Granada suprised me. I had expected to walk out into a hilly ancient city, and instead was met by a very modern one. I was looking at my map, trying to figure out where the bus was so I wasn`t taken 10 miles away from where I needed to get off, and a spanish guy with colorful rope tied around his wrist just put his finger on my map and pointed to where we were and where the bus went. There are a lot of people like that. They know you are a confused tourist and even if they don`t speak english and you don`t speak spanish, they find a way to help you out.
After a half hour I started to see my picture of granada, spanish homes climbing up the hillside, emerge between the tall buildings. I second guessed myself as to where to get off and so got off at the next stop (wasn`t too far off though). I saw on the map I had to walk by a river for a good deal of the way. Sigh. A river. I pictured a mile of concrete and lampposts. But in five minutes I was walking on a narrow one way cobbled street, that I thought was a pedestrian walkway until a car lumbered past. The river was lined with quaint stone bridges, beautiful old buildings with the alhambra on top. The river was almost a stream being enjoyed by large white ducks, and the shops were filled with morrocan lamps and pillows. It was a great walk that didn`t last too long. I walked up a two high hills. Almost all the reviews for this hostel complained about having to walk up high hills and stairs. Almost half of hostel reviews in general complain about having to walk up hills and stairs. Which I find quite funny. These people have surely seen pictures of the cities they are going to. It`s part of why they are going. I don`t know how you might not suspect that your hostel might possibly be on one of these many pituresque hills or staircases, meaning you would have to walk up it to get there.

I got checked in at 7 and went to bed at 8.
It was very very cold. I had thought granada, being in the south, would be warmer. must be the mountains.

Tuesday
people are waiting for the net so short version.
got my train booked, but not without problems
walked around
found the greatest supermarket on earth. I would cut my grocery bill in half (if not more) by moving to spain. tasty bakery chabata bread. .80 (in the US it would cost me about 5 bucks) wine 1.00-4.00. capers .75 olives (huge jar) 1.00 fruit and veggies: cheap and amazing (I had august worthy strawberrys yesterday) I walked around the grocery store trying to supress the crazed grin on my face.

Madrid Sunday

I can`t believe it was already my last full day in Madrid. These 3-4 nights per place is a little dissorienting at times. But I get 6 nights in Granada. And the first thing I`m doing in Granada is RESERVING MY TICKET TO BARCELONA.

But i`m taking the bus to granada because it`s only $14 supposidly. and for a 5 hour trip that`s amazing. So I need to make this quick and find out for sure so I`m not finding this out while wearing my backpack, and carrying two extra bags. I really do need to get some things taken care of at the post office.

The Parque del Buen Retiro was one reason I really wanted to go to Madrid. The other was the El Rastro Flea Market that happens every Sunday in the Embajadores (I just call it the old central district where I`m staying) district. It wasn`t quite the gigantic garage sale I was expecting, but it was still enormous and great. Just about everyother stall was selling clothes I would own and wear. But most were €15 or more and I just wasn`t ready for that. I already have so many Michelle clothes. so so many. But do you know what I don`t have to many of? Scarves! One can always by another scarve.
Livia and I passed a few stands that were selling scarves friday and I finally had to go back and buy one. I told her about all my scarves (all 130 of them). She looked at me and then said "That sounds a bit like sickness..." "It`s not a sickness, it`s a collection! I collect scarves! " (I didn`t actually realize I was collecting them until a few months ago. I just knew I loved them and if one was pretty and cheap it was mine. Mine. I`ve always wanted to collect something. Stuffed Animals. Stamps. Stickers. Fingernail polish. Coins. Postcards. Glass Bottles. Magazine pictures. There were problems with these collections and they didn`t go too far. Then, one day, as I sat surrounded by my 117 scarves I realized I had a collection. I collected scarves. I had found my lifes calling. Collection wise.)
I continued my explanation to Livia "You have to understand, I usually get the scarves for 25 cents or a dollar at second hand shops..."
She still had that twisted look on her face "That`s still not good."
I had to go back through all the stands and make sure I was making the right choice.
"But what do you do with all of them? You can`t wear a different scarf every day."
"I do. Theres ones for going to the park, painting a house, going to the market in june, walking to work..."
But we had made our way back to the scarves, "there it is! the green one."
"You don`t have a green one." she raised her eyebrows
"Not a long thin one with stripes. And tassles!"
"You are sure?"
"I know all my scarves."
Livia looked at me a little differently after this, and whenever we passed scarves after this she now recognized the gleam that would spark in my eye, and she would grab my arm just in case my quirkiness went the direction of crazy. "You`ve already bought a scarf today and you´re going to the market on sunday."
So at the market, I walked around with all the people and the $15 clothes. After asking 7 different venders how much the gorgeous unmarked clothes were and continually getting around the same price every time, I resigned myself to happily take in the market. There was really one main reason why I was here. I needed to find a bag. I`ve decided the enormous flowers and butterflys on white 90`s canvas was making me stand out in Portugal and Spain (more than I already do). Plus the strap dug into my shoulder with even when the weight wasn`t that much. I`ve been looking at everyone else`s bags and found that earthy colors with a shoulder strap should be the ticket. At 11:30 the crowd had gotten to the point of hundreds of soft bodies all bumping together like balls at chucky cheese, but we were all shopping...
Then I heard it "Dos! Dos!" and what were they shouting Dos for? Scarves! Beautiful colorful scarves! And there was even a sign saying they were €2. I controlled myself... a little. (hush. I only bought 3.)

I bought a artsy purse for €3 and then realized I had made a stupid choice. It didn`t rest at the right place. I needed a messanger bag. So I bought one for €4.50. No icecream or crossaints for me today.

Oh I forgot to mention. I wore a diguise of sorts to the market. I was sort of scared that the carmel women would be begging at the market (it would be the place to beg on sunday) and she`s see me and jump me. So I tied up my hair and covered it with a blue scarf (my hair had been down the day we met), put on my old brown glasses, lipstick, and wore my blue sweater. (and did not carry my white bag). I knew it was a little silly ("Oh, that girl looks exactly like the one I want to kill, but this one has brown glasses with a blue purse, I can`t see the color of her hair, and she`s a little prettier. It must be someone else." ) but it made me feel better. I put two emergency carmels in my pocket just in case.

I was at the market till 2 and then took the long way back, took a wrong street but found a nice fountain to sit on with other citizens, and ate a little bread,
I found my way back by way of the Plaza Mayor and changed my mind about it. When I had first seen it at 8am, there weren`t that many people around. Now it was full of people, sitting in the expensive cafe and resturant chairs, busking, and congregated in little groups in the middle. I really like how Madrid lets the public sit and lay everywhere in a nonsquating fashion. There were people eating their lunch, planning out their day, resting, and one guy was watching11 backpacks. He wasn`t doing a very good job of it though, just resting on them. I was somewhat tempted to run over and grab one just to show him that he needs to lope his arms and legs through the straps like a responsible backpack watcher, but thought better of it. He did look comfortable.
I went to the hostel and fixed a fantastic lunch of soup with rice noodles, vegetable flavoring, and fresh lettuce, went back to the park because there was a drum circle. Didn`t get that into it, walked back. Walked around The Prado because it was free today. Only found a couple paintings I liked, which made for a quick trip. Now I`m looking for my bus and going to bed.

Granada on Monday. I keep hearing really good things about Granada.
I will miss these wide sidewalks and walkways though.

Madrid fri and sat

I woke up groggily to a girl chatting on her cell phone. My hostel room is right by the sitting room of the second floor, and this seems to be the place for everyone to have their important relationship problem discussions at 12am or 6am. And not only is our room equipped with a door that will only close if you lock it, it has a enormous window that has no real purpose other than for more noise to get in (or for people to crawl into the room from the hallway and unto my bed). The kiwi´s were whispering about the annoying girl yapping on our cellphone.
¨it´s actually pretty interesting, this guy did this and...¨
What time is it? 6? My alarm should be going off pretty soon here...
7:48
Oh crap.
¨Did my alarms go off?¨ I ask the kiwis as I grab my clothes.
¨We heard something go off.¨
¨I can´t believe I slept through it. (brain: Oh my...I refuse to take this one...) I was supposed to meet someone at 7.¨ I run downstairs and make sure Livia isn`t sitting in the lobby. She`s not. Who in their right mind would?
The train leaves at 9. I take an incredibly quick shower, because me being smelly after a night bus on top of late wouldn´t really help my case. I quickly walk to the bus station. I resolve to be a little smarter about the morning plans I make after 2 days without sleep. I don´t beat myself up, but I do have a few pictures in my mind of Livia looking at me tiredly with a dark cloud over her. I get to the train station, buy a ticket, walk to the tracks at 8:40 and find out there is a 8am train and 10am train. She probably took the 8am train, I´m never going to find her in Segovia, or it will be at the end of the day and she`ll just look at me as I apoligize. "I never stand people up. (I just sometimes make them wait 3 hours.) I go to find something to eat and as I´m looking at the screen to make sure there is a 10am train I hear "Michelle!"
I turn around and there is Livia, she looks relieved. We hug eachother.
"I`m so sorry!"
"No, I`m sorry! I thought we were meeting at 8am¨
¨I was more tired then I thought slept through two alarms!¨

Now that`s a daytrip partner to get. Deep down they know that you are kidding yourself- waking up at 6:30 when you´re short on sleep, so their subconcious switches the time accordingly. And knowing the other gets confused about dates and times (yesterday Livia told me it was Friday. No, It`s thursday. No it`s friday. I`m pretty sure it`s thursday, yesterday was wednesday, I just looked at a calendar today. ¨Oh shit, I bought a train ticket for the wrong day. I thought it was friday.¨ Well, see if they´ll let you change it.) so their subconsious lets them get the extra sleep they need.
Elena told me she was at the hostel at 8:10 (I had just left) and when she didn`t see me she realized she had messed up the times so she hurried to the train station and when she found out the train didn`t leave till 10 she relaxed a little. I get her to buy the ticket since the line has grown from the 5 people I had to 15.

We are both happy and get some breakfast to celebrate. life is good. I get a jamon rustica sandwich and Livia gets a crossaint and coffee (everywhere you go they have the crossaint and coffee combo. If it was tea and crossaint I would bite.). We make our way to the train. If you are in Madrid, do everything before 9. At 9:30 the line is again stretched all around the station. There is a huge crowd waiting, and they are all going to segovia. Livia and I possission ourselves in such a way that as everyone pushes in we manage to get a seat. It`s a two hour train ride, and it looks like a packed subway car as we take off. I look around for a old person, mom/with baby, pregnant women, or person with crutches to offer my precious seat to as the courtesy sign instructs, but the only white haired head I see is at the end of the car, and trying to offer them my seat would be impossible. And if not impossible, it would cause a riot. Most of the people standing by us are teenagers and couples who decide to pass the time by giving eachother loud kisses.

Yellow, purple and delicious bright red flowers wip past us. After an half hour or so we start to see mountains. I am so tired, but someone is holding on to my headrest so I just stare out the window. We get to Segovia at noon and everyone clammers off and heads in mass to the town center. Livia and I have figured out it is a bit of a trek to segovia`s plaza mayor and so we take the city bus to preserve our energy. The bus is packed as the driver goes to the next stop. Somehow, after he yells at us, we manage to fit 20 more people on. Most of the people get off before the old town. There must be a parade or something.

We make our our way to the center and there are people on top waiting for something. Ok, I´m not feeling like googiling right this second, so this is a probably incorrect or misinformation but before easter, the thing to do in spain is for men in robes that totally look like KKK getups (though these are blackor purple or blue) and slowly walk around with a statue of jesus and Mary (very big heavy statues on wooden planks that 8 or more men have to carry) as everyone watches. I want to say it started in Seville but both segovia and madrid do it (probably lots of towns do it). The robed men started to come and Livia asked if I wanted to watch (she had seen it the night before in Madrid and said it creeped her out alittle because it reminded her of the inquisition. I told her what it reminded me of. I know it has nothing to do with it, but my mind can`t not go there. I tried to make up for the kkk reference during a reverent procession and I told her I think (because I saw a travel video with the procession) it has something to do with representing that they are sinners and that`s why their face is covered... or something. Livia didn`t think that was much better and started looking at the cathedral.

Neither of us wanted to see it and I got into travel planner mode and told her we should make our way to the castle while the crowds were distracted by the procession. and then we could see the big cathedral. then we could see the aquaduct.
We bought our ticket €3 to the castle. It does kind of look like the disney one. It was kind of small and the famous tower that is supposed to give you great views was closed (they still had you pay for it) though I guess a ancient spiral staircase might protest to having hundreds at a time clamour up and down it.
It was 2 and Livia and I realized we were really really hungry. We painfully made our way back to the center and bought some bread. She wanted meat. We found a place that gave you €1 tapas. Livia got sausages. I got something that I thought was sausages but was actually fat, bone and skin. I decided no to figure out what part of the pig I was eating. It was shop, little almonds in a light carmel coating. I couldn`t stop eating them as we walked to the aquduct. Though I did stop when I saw the mountains peaking through the narrow street. It was warm and there were mountains on a cobbled street.

What I like about Europe is with so many of it`s "sights", you could easily find something right around where you are that also satisfies you . You could see the famous aqueduct in france (sol du duc I think), but here`s one in segovia.
I found anise bread and bought it for €2.5.
I walked to the bus station to see if there was cheaper tickets there since the train was a madhouse while Livia took a nap. I got heart shaped pastry.
You keep this up and I`m going to turn into a pastry. I get a €6 bus ticket for both of us (the train was 9.90) and walk into a church. There are a few people sitting quictly, praying, preparing for friday service. But there are also 10 or 12 people talking loudly to eachother and taking pictures. A man in a red sweater vest looks at them tiredly. It made me sad. Though I did discretly take a picture when the sweater vest man left with the priest.

Livia gets something to eat and we make our way to the bus. Livia was a great travel friend. We both walked fast, ate pastry and icecream, have stomach problems on the bus, and we didn`t have to talk the whole time. And I was still tired, so haivng someone with me kept me going. Though because I was having a nice relaxing day with a friend, I was dropping and misplacing everything towards the end and LIvia had to watch out for her glassy eyed travel partner.

The bus only takes a little over an hour. The scrubby trees on the green valleys with the mountains directly over them made for very nice scenery watching.
Livia and I walked around the plaza del sol (the heart of spain and madrid) and ran into another procession with the pointy hoods, jesus and mary while we were looking for a good doner eatery (livia told me I had to try it). This procession one was pretty big. there was a seperate band for mary and jesus.
We watched a little because we had no choice with all the people, some who were watching, others who were following the statue. I walked Livia to the train station and then walked back to the only open grocerystore in the city and bought some eggs. It was 2 hours later and the procession was still going on. THough it was winding up, with the mary and jesus statue meeting. Cameras sometimes concern me. It isn`t experience, it`s zoom, click click click.
I watched for 20 minutes or so. Watching everyone with their unbrellas clapping the closer the jesus platform got to mary`s. Then the I saw something very nice. A father was walking away with a little boy on his shoulders who had a tired, bored expression and was answering something his father had said with a drawn out ¨por que?¨ (why?)
It was delightful.

Though I really do like Madrid. A lot of people I met said they didn`t like Madrid. It was just a really big city they said. But I feel a little more relaxed here, the people here seem to form one big excited group and that makes Madrid feel alive. And it has lots of places to get icecream. and if two people are walking slowly down a sidewalk sideby side, you can easily walk around them on the newer wide sidewalk. I got stuck behind many a slow couple in Lisbon, and the cars wizzing by made it impossible to choose the street, and as for the opposite sidewalk, well that was either a makeshift parkinglot or a "sunglass" seller hangout. If a person offers you sunglasses in Lisbon. Just say no.

Saturday.
Somewhere in Madrid there is a toothless, carmel loving street women who hates me, but I`ll talk about that later. First, A lose and a tribute:
to two containers of floss and one mechanical pencil stuffed with a three months supply of lead, I can now add a 7.95 Rick steves Spanish phrasebook that has been donated to a fellow tourist somewhere in Segovia. I felt a little extra vulnerable in Portugal with only my little list of 5 phrases and words and that feeling will get to be continued for 13 days.
It was a great little phrasebook. Blue, funny, light, useful. It had phrases for travel (that I would just write down and hand to the ticket person to ensure a smooth transaction, since I`m finding my accent is atrotious), for women being harrassed (no may tochas!), a little englishtospanish and spanish to english dictionary, and a menu decoder. And now it is gone. THough I am glad it was you instead of my passport or thin red scarve that I forgot in the lisbon commons room one night. and my new long striped scarf I dropped in the street and some passerbys pointed it out. I`ll buy another one of you. but for now-goodbye my spanish rick steves phrase book. goodbye.

I awoke with another loud conversation at 7am with a guy and girl who had just gotten in from their night of fun. I would die if I lived on Madrid time. Die. The day I got here, as I was waiting for hte sun to come up at the bus stop a younger guy came by and plopped down by the people. Two other young guys came by shortly and made the guy get up. They were walking home at 7am after being out all night. How would you work? or study? Or cross streets safely?
From what I could tell from this couples conversation is that it was a spanish guy and an english girl. Spanish guy was.... oh I don`t know, it just went on and on and I`m not going to grace it with a story. ¨My friend is having problems but we must never speak of it (repeat 18 times)¨ ¨I like you and we had a good time but...¨ (repeat 6 or so times) And the girl just kept making spineless nice girl¨thats ok¨comments back.
my spanish roomates are not shy and one of them opened the door and "shh`d" them. "gracias" I said, sweet sweet sleep. Spanish girl then went to her friend and said "we must never speak of it...." which got them giggling and talking. The plan had been to sleep until I woke up completly recovered from bus time but I was now fully awake so I said goodbye to my bed and took a shower.
After a 10 minute oredeal extracting my crumbly anise bread from the toaster, I hardboiled my eggs and got a few jealous looks as they ate their customary bread, jam, milk and cereal free breakfast. I made a crumbly anise bread and turky sandwhich for lunch.

Everybody hurts (sometimes) really is a great great song. and the internet guy made me herbal tea.

I realized I was still really tired and when I saw all my roomates were gone, I went back to bed. I was this close to dreaming into sleep when two of my spanish girls entered the room. They say something softly to someone, it sounds like a guy. No you`re ok, what were you kind of dreaming about- I think maybe your mom was saying something, I almost have it... but then the 3rd and loudest spanish girl starts talking and talking and TALKING and the dream is gone. Bloody hell. I uncover my head (I sleep with the covers over my head because it is the best way to sleep. If I ever need to be calmed down, throw a blanket over my head. Calm. But don`t have someone I don`t know and trust do it or else that won`t calm me down.) and look over slighly exasperated at girls 2 and 3. They don`t see me but girl 1 does and shhs them. It works for a minute. I get up and put on my sandals. Girl 3 is oblivious to the fact that her loud passionant spanish just destroyed someones sleep. "Do you know a guy here?" she asks me
"No..."
"When we came in and you were sleeping a guy was standing in the room."
"And doing what?"
The girls don`t make sense for a bit and I make out that no, he wasn`t watching me, he was just standing there in the dark room holding his suitcase and sort of smiling (that`s how girl 3 is demonstrating it)
I guess the next time I nap the door needs to be locked. Though strange smiling boys with suitcases could just as well crawl through the enormous window and step on my head.
girls 1 and 2 leave and girl 3 lays on her bed with an exhausted sigh.
If I had a harmonica I would use it right at this moment.

I walk through the city and get a tiramasu ice cream cone. I have this thing with tiramasu. I don`t really like it. It`s soggy and my taste buds always look at me with slight confusion when I eat it. Cream, rum soaked cookie, pudding. Yet almost everytime I could order it, I have to. I think it`s the name. Tiramisu. Though as an icecream flavor its really good. I think....

I walk into a nice looking tea shop and my nose wrinkles. beer and urine and no shower for weeks. I see a man who is going to all the people at the counter and asking them for change, he stops in front of me and I say no and back away, he goes to the next patron, patting a man on his coat pocket, the man looks back, a little annoyed but completly unphased and lightly moves the guys hand away. the counter people just glance at him and keep serving people.

Madrid has a free Egyptian tomb in a park a short ways away from the palace (I walked around it`s free gardens. I see women with carnations going after people wlaking to the tomb, walk far off to the side. I walk quickly looking ahead but the women sees me. And I look promising to her. Hola, she runs in front of me, smiles widely, talking rapidly. I say no. nicely. no again. She reaches for my arm and almost takes it. NO! She looks a little shocked and She lets go and goes for the next person. I feel a little bad for basically shouting, she had a nice smile. But it was be a loud and firm sayer of no or walk into the tomb with a carnation. I didn`t have a third option.
The tomb was small and stuffed with people, but it was an egyptian tomb.

I walk for hours on a long wide treelined sidewalk that borders a huge city park (It kind of reminded me of the one in NYC by central park, with much fewer people (and dogs and taxis and tacky hot dog stands). I relax. Its a little cold, the sun seems to take it´s sweet time coming up in Madrid. Sun: Well if these jokers are going to run around all night, I`m not warming this city until they wake up.
I use the restroom, the restroom cleaner keeps talking to me and all I can make out is bano. She might have been telling me the restroom gets cleaned at this time. I don`t know. There were people when I walked in two minutes before. I walk past a candy store and oh they have werthers soft carmels. I buy 5 and a couple strawberry swirls.
I walk a little and look around. Everything looks good and I sit next to an older women.
The carmels are disgusting. I am very disapointed with Werthers Original Company. It doesn`t even taste like their chewy carmels. It tastes like the cheap ones you melt for apples. Why would they send such junk to spain? I put my brain on sleep mode for a second and close my eyes and enjoy the sun. I open them and a women zones in on me, leans in and says something. I tell her no and shake my head. The older women is gone. The women with a striped sweater and no teeth says something again. I say no and I don`t understand (in spanish). My gosh I`ve only been sitting here for two minutes. *Yawn* Um, I think you better respond with something other then no, losiento or no comprendo, she`s not going away. Well I lost my phrase book, I told her No twice or three times and I`m just sitting here, enjoying the sun. And I don`t think she`s someone I want to yell at.
She says another sentence I don`t understand. She`s pointing to the candy beside you. Huh? Oh, those gross things. They are only like 5 cents and they are downstairs but I don`t know how to say that in spanish. I point to where I got them.
No, she telling you to give her one! Well that`s kind of presumptuous. I mean, I`ll give her one but my word... Danger! Danger!
"Caremelo! Caremelo!" She says angrily and then makes a move towards me like a cat fight is about to begin and I hold up a finger in warning and my eyes flash. Do not mess with my happy sun time. She backs off and walks away muttering and goes off to panhandle peopple who don`t take 2 minutes to come back to the real world in which they have to respond.
Oh crap. I just about got my face scratched over candy. cheap gross candy. You never let me sleep on a city street (in another country!) by a metro/train station woman! Never! We have talked and talked about this! You´ve had wake up calls. lessons. proof how imporatant this is. What was with that finger of warning with the angry eyes? You didn`t give me much time to work so I did what I could. Well I would have given her a carmel, but I just wanted to be left alone to think. If I had been awake I would have told you in a timely manner that she was wanting a carmel, saw no reason for you not to give her one (happy sun time or not) and she would have left you alone if you had just handed her one. Or she would have grabbed my outstretched hand and stuck a dirty needle in it. Yes. Yes. that could have been as well. *rolls eyes* Sigh. We are really moving to Chicago? You bet your buttons we are.... Let`s go to a grocery store. Yes, lets. Though I might mention that you had better get used to and smart(er) about being zoned in on the street or at the park. All. the. time.
The grocery store provides me with digestive busicuits, water and lentils.

Night bus, Day 1 (thur) in Madrid

Europe is so unkind to dreamers.

I got to the Lisbon train station. "The train is full."
"full?"
"full."
"the train tomorrow is full to."
I can´t wait in Lisbon till Friday, I have a hostel booked in Madrid. The bus station is right next door, so I walk to the first window that I see with Madrid and 20:45 (meaning there is a night bus) and buy a ticket. €39 isn`t bad, but I can`t do this again. I have a train pass and I do need to use it.

I then explore the area around the train station. Beatriz, my bus to Porto friend, told me she lives there. It was a bad area 10 years ago, but in 98´there was a worlds fair and now it´s a very nice area and I should go there. So I did, and it was very nice. I bought a €3 super duper icecream cone in the next door mall- pistachio, banana and chocolate and tiramisu. I think I´m just trying to catch up on all the years of no icecream.

I walked up and down by the ocean, up and down the square where the worlds fair was, watched a colorful volcano fountain. I really do love how Lisbon tiles the sidewalks and plazas. I listened to some portugese cds (I`ve heard some great music just in passing, but they only had a few cds set up to listen to, and none of these were lovely)
I decided I should probably get something to eat and checked out my options. sandwhich. sandwhich. sandwhich. Ooo. Salad Bar. A tasty healthy, salad bar.

The only problem was I paid €11 for a salad. Those pay by weight things get me every time. Chicago has 2-4 Whole Foods who have the same system. I´m determined to solve this problem. I´m guessing the answer is not to treat it as a all you can eat buffet. It was the fish that got me. I just took a small part of it, but felt bad for breaking it up. So I took it all. But everyone seemed to be paying €9 or so. And I only paid €10.74. It was €11.29 and as I took out my change, saw I didn-t have enough and reached for my twenty. The cashier, changed the price just like that and looked at me as I handed her my twenty. She shook her head. She had seen my change, she saw .74 and she wanted it.
I stood waiting for the bus, eating my precious salad bar treat. Everyone else had eaten like civalized people at tables. I really shouldn`t have done this because I think I slept one hour on the bus from feeling so blah. I even had two seats to myself. But everyone was talking almost the whole time, they kept these red lights on so I felt like I was traveling in a bright red lightbulb, and there was no bathroom on the bus, so we stopped every two hours.

We got to Madrid at 5:30 (6:30 actually, I forgot to change my clock). The bathroom had no toilet paper anywhere. Or soap. An older women almost entered the stall where I had my stuff. When I pantomimed I had been on a toilet paper hunt, that is why I abandoned my stale, she went "ooooh." and gave me a long explanation in spanish, and then opened the front pocket of her suitcase, which was all toilet paper, and handed me a portion. I thanked the lovely women and then afterward got a crossaint (I just realized I ate the crossaint with my hands when the bathroom had had no soap. I`m doing pretty good breaking this anti-germ wash//wipes dependency. I waited for the sun to come up, but my legs needed a stretch and I got impatient and made my way outside. The hostel was only 2 miles away and I saw a couple people out. Everyone I passed was dragging along a roller suitcase. I seriously think I passed 80 people with roller suitcases. The sound was echoing around town. Wrrrrr,bump,bump,bump,bump.

There was only me and a couple rollers for the first half of the walk though on a main street. I walked past this man who I had seen just standing there, across the street, and I had seen watching people for awhile. As I passed he watched me and crossed the street to my side. I crossed the street to his side. Clip Clop Clip Clop. He kept my pace, glancing across the carless street over at me. There were still a couple people out, but sometimes it was just me and him on opposite sides of the street. When the people had passed, for no reason at all, he crossed back again. I figured if he was going to look silly crossing the street for no apparent reason, I would do likewise. I crossed back. He gave me a look. We got to the train station and he crossed and I made sure I was with a group of people. He went on his way. Maybe he just likes to cross the street and be on sidewalks with another person. Maybe he got robbed a couple years ago on that same street at 7 in the morning and so he just waits till he sees someone he is sure wouldn`t hurt him (being the big, vulnerable 40 yearold man in the blue pimp suit with clippy shoes that he is) and then crosses the street when he finds that perfect person to put his mind at ease.
But I have something I like. I like to walk on sidewalks with people who havn´t been standing on the opposite side, watching people and then crossing around one specific person. And I am not the only person in Spain with "blond" hair. It was still dark and after this I stood at a bus stop with a group of people and compossed myself. I shouldn`t have been walking at 6:00, I looked at a pharmacy clock, oh it´s 7:00. I hate this. But I still like citys. I do. (see this is a good thing for chicago. Do I want to tear my hair out after 3 months of having to be a lot more alert than I did in dsm) I watched the sky grow lighter and then kept walking. I got a little offtrack (a convience store guy helped me out and gave me a map because my guidebook one was very limited) and got to the Hostel by way of the Plaza Mayor. I´m not quite sure what makes the Plaza Mayor such a tourist attraction. I´ve seen Plazas surrounded by one building in every city I´ve been, and they are also nice. I passed 40 policemen all walking to their posts who seemed to have gotten out of their group meeting for the day. It was nice to know that they decide to protect you at 8:00am. Did I really only sleep an hour?

I find the hostel, store my bags (since it was far to early to check in ) and I used their internet. I really didn`t want to be in the city today. I figured I`d daytrip to Segovia or Toledo. "Toledo has narrow winding streets.". "Segovia has narrow winding streets.". Sigh. Old Michelle would have thought this was horribly romantic, but current Michelle would like someone with her on the narrow winding streets because I am so tired of having to be on high alert all the time. There is a reason to travel in pairs. (Not that I`m not happy doing this trip by myself, but I`m going to get friends for the narrow dark streets part.) Just then I heard a girl asking about Segovia.
And I turned away from the internet, would you like someone to go with you?
She looked a little taken aback seeing as she had never seen me or met me and I just jumped in. Sure. that would be nice.
If you`d like to go alone it`s not a problem.
Oh no, then I wouldn`t have to go alone.
So Livia (from germay) went to drop off her stuff at her new hostel and I finished up my internet time. and then we went to the train station.
We kept being in the wrong area, in the wrong line. These errors cost us an hour. When we found the right line, there were 400 people in 4 lines, and 3 window attendents. (good ol´holy week)
As we go close I posed the thought that the train wasn`t leaving till 12, we wouldn`t get there till 2, and everyone in line seemed to be going to Segovia. It is a tourist destination, but I guess i just assumed everyone would be going to Sevilla. Since that is where people go for holy week.
Livia agreed with me and we decided to come tomorrow at 7am, buy our tickets, and be on a 9am train. So Livia went to do her errands and I walked to the Parque del Buen Retiro. I have dreamed about this park. Ever since I saw a picture of it, a partial palace (in a park), I wanted to go.

But it was 11:45 and I was freaked out about not having any real food and every store would be closed for siesta time (which I think is 12-3, but I might be wrong). I got a tosomthing espana sandwhich. Which was a potato and egg omlete on a 6 inch baugette. It was kind of a gross concept, but I liked it more then the onion ring sandwich. I got a McDonalds €1 salad so I wouldn+t just be eating slabs off egg cassorole on white bread.

I spent 4 hours in the park. 2 of them sleeping (I tied my bag to my body and my boots to my bag and sweater and positioned myself so my face was in the shade and my white little legs could burn). There was so many people you would have thought it was a big fair, but it didn`t feel like too much. They were all just enjoying the park. I loved seeing how everyone was doing their siesta. If they weren`t walking around, Everyone was in little groups (or by themselves): some playing guitar, some blowing up ballons, some doing taichi, reading, writing, sleeping, putting on lotion, sunbathing, playing catch, eating. It was marvelous. I love seeing little individual pictures of who people are all in one place. I felt completly comfortable and relaxed. I was also half drugged with lack of sleep and wandered around for 45 minutes after the first hour siesta and finally found one. I`ll say one thing about Madrid, because I havn`t really experienced this anywhere else in Europe. Going to the bathroom is very important to them. When I went to the convience store bathroom, I heard a group of women come in and try the door and make angry sounds when it didn`t open. They had just walked in. They kept trying the door even though I yelled to let them know someone was in here and they would have to wait 15 seconds. I immediatly opened it and motioned it would be a moment and a little witch of a women glared back at me. I quickly washed my hands and as I left the evil women made a comment to her friends. I made a point to roll my eyes so her and her friends could see. I don´t know if that was culturally sensitive, but she had had to wait 30 seconds. So here I was in the park bathroom, had just sat down and someone tried the door and when it didn`t open, started banging on it and trying to open it. As if knocking a door off it´s hinges will make the person who is having the audacity to use it (when you`d like to) disapeer. (maybe there was a time when bathroom doors didn`t open and they are all still affected....
I sure am rich with these alternative stories for every annoying person).
Despite that, I could probably safely say the park will be my favorite part of madrid.

And now I`m here. I need to go to bed so I can wake up tomorrow and not wish I had never been born and be happy seeing segovia. I`m not quite sure why i`m going. There is plenty to see in Madrid, it´s two hours one way (but only €5! (one way)). But I would like a daytrip (I get to see a little of northernish spain) and it has a fairy tale castle (one that inspired walt disney- the others in bavaria) and a roman aqueduct. the original daytrip plan was toledo and its hilly windy little neighborhoods. But I feel pretty satifsfied in that area from lisbon and porto.

love, me

Porto tues and wed

My new hotel room is a little shabbier, no mini bar, no little side room, the tv is high in the ceiling. But the breakfast makes up for it and then some. cheese, 4 different meats, crossaints, crepes, bread (toast, hard bread, biscotti), 5 different little sweet breads, egg and ham quiche, cereals (blah), tomatoes, rice in pudding, strawberries in wine, apples. And let me tell you- I ate it all. All around me the english and portugese had their coffee as they daintily ate their one or two sweetbreads of choice. (though I did see them keep going back, they went in stages). I had my plate piled high like I was at a luthern potluck and crumbs were spread around me. Oh I didn´t have the plain bread and two of the sweetbreads. I decided to stop the maddness of trying to get all my needed nutrition for the day in one sitting.

I walked to the serralves art museum today. (all the books tell you to take a bus, but it´s only a 2mile walk). I was walking throught the nicer neighborhoods today. I only bought a ticket to the surrounding serralves gated park. It was pretty. Not awe inspiring, but it was relaxing and nice not have to be completly on my guard. I love cities, I love all they offer, but it does get a little exhausting to have to stay aware and alert. I then walked to the ocean, got a pizza pastry and walked by the ocean wall. A seagull kept hovering directly by me and and giving me the eye (ok, while I havn´t been fabricating the other stuff, but I guess the bird may have just been flying. but I didn´t trust him.) I walked to a nearby park and it was ugly. more gravel walkways than grass. I took a tram mostly into town and it stopped a lot sooner than I thought it would so I was stuck by the river with the same isolated stairs and walkways as my choices for getting up the cliff. I took a funicular up instead. everyone on it was acting like they were on the coolest roller coaster in the world. I would have loved to scamper up stairs, but I was just wary of them. So dark and narrow and isolated. But the cool thing is I got on it without having to pay for it because I still had my tram card and it worked for it. I walked back to the city center. I was proud of myself, I did everything I had planned to do. Well, I didn´t get a banana and chocolate icecream cone as planned. But I´ve discovered that pears and broccoli here are local and they taste AMAZING. and who needs a ice cream cone when you can eat the tastiest portugese pear in the world for like 25 cents? twentyfive cents. Any pear I´ve ever had compared to this one was complete cardboard. And the portugese broccoli is even good. almost sweet.

Ok need to finalize my choices for getting to madrid by thursday.

hope everyone has a great easter.


WED
Last night I was doing good. In bed by 10, almost asleep by 10:30. But then the noise I had been ignoring grew louder and louder. People were chanting and shouting outside my hotel room. The kind of songs you´d sing at a football game or a strike or a revolt against the city. The noise grew to the point that I got up, put on pants and got my moneybelt out of my bag and put it under my pillow just in case I had to flee a burning city. I looked out my window where I could just see a small amount of street, expecting to see 200 heads of hair but couldn´t see anything. The women in the apartment across from me came out and looked over her balcony and didn´t look too concerned so I didn´t put on my boots. I did however decide if fleeing with my backpack was worth it. or if I should just escape with my passport and money and not be an obvious target. Just then 3 guys under my window started chanting, arms raised and the crowd I couldn´t see joined in, somehow even louder than before.

I went downstairs and asked the deskguy what was going on.
But I did pick up "Oh well.... the students, they just had dinner. It shouldn´t last...long."
"Oh ok. thanks."
Wait. What? Just had dinner? Graduation. Won a game? Planning to break windows and destroy the town I could understand. but dinner? I go outside and cautiously peak outside, curious to see what 300 riot chanting, dinner eating Porto students look like. There´s only 20 of them. Shouting in a group, some of them dancing. I go back upstairs and am met by a tired german. "Do they do this every night" "Well, I was here last night and it didn´t happen. The desk guy said they just had dinner and it shouldn´t last long." Yeah. Doesn´t make sense.
The dinner celebration lasted till about 11 :30, and then the hotel slept.

Am about to walk to the bus that goes to Lisbon.

Then will immediatly go to the train station and reserve the train to Madrid for that night. Hopefully it´s not all booked up. *fingers crossed* Another night train.... but this time I´m equipped with knowledge, digestive buiscuits, gas water (that´s what they call carbonated water here. Isn´t that great?) with a screw off cap, and clean socks. And i didn´t realize it, but the hostel room I booked for madrid is an ALL girls room. So lots of new things await me. After a couple days alone in a hostel room and 4 days in a hotel room, it will nice to be in the house environment again. snoring and all. the hotel room had just as much noise
love michelle

Porto Day 2 (sun) and (mon)

Sunday

I eat breakfast and take a long hot bath. I will explore today. I will. I get out and walk all around town.
A great deal of the city seems shut down. I am on the main shopping street, just looking at the window displays with other people. A man, who looks homeless, stops and offers me a cookie (they have hundreds of digestive biscuit cookies to choose from here, they are really cheap and in a round package), I decline, but it was a sweet gesture.
After a while, I am looking at another window display and a decent looking guy walks by me, stops and looks, and then stops at the window display, sneaking looks at me. I decide to keep walking and another guy (You guys I´m really not making this up or being paranoid. This is completly honest and objective) does a double look at me and also crosses the road walking towards me. I luck upon a mall with lots of people and I am folllowed by my two new friends. Who really look completly decent but I just want to be by myself today. I march into the first store I see. It´s a upscale expensive fest, but for this purpose it´s fine. It has relaxing music. I look at the €40 tanks. This is absurd. Yes, yes, I may have been a little hypersensitive in the past about guys being attracted to me (because at 19 I thought I had succesfully become an invisible flower on the wall where that was concered), I may still be, but I have worked on this (a little) and to go from it happening 4 times a year to 10 times a day (stalking included) is just a little much.
I walk around the stores and try to get the mindset where it doesn´t annoy or rattle me. I try to picture myself as a women who can be relaxed and cool and unphased . Nope. I don´t like being stalked or random guys attempting to "get to know me" when I´m in each city for a few days. There will be no dinner. No walks by the river. No making out. No dating. No sex. no marriage. I´m just not interested-I´m traveling dang it. Little Ava the Austrian told me her boyfriend is her cello and I understood. I told her mine is bread, but thinking about it, really it´s more just tasting experiences. Be it pastries or sights or walks or talks. I also told her about my monthly crushes on random famous guys and she told me I should never cheat on my boyfriend.
I love hostels and the boys there. And if random men in the park or on the street where just looking for a friendly conversation (and on the search for communal lentils and pasta), it would be fine. But it hasn´t happened to me yet. It may be the culture, that´s fine. But I would like to just walk down the street or sit on the park bench like a normal person or be able to stop and look at something for 2 seconds without getting forced into a "what language do you speak, you want to go out" conversation.

I find a grocery store and feel my whole body relax. I buy a pear and orange but keep shopping around. So what did you do in Europe Michelle? I went to ever supermarket I could. And it was awesome. At this rate you are going to go to every supermarket in Europe. I look at the entire row of digestive buscuits. And then glance at the chocolate. No. Still gross. I. have. taste. adversion. to. you. Oh you do not. It says back to me. People suck. Eat us. We are tasty and supply whatever that pherimone,endosomething thing is that makes you happy. You won´t care that you can´t walk down the street like a normal person.

Ugh. That. is. it. I decide. I am getting engaged. I don´t need strange men on the street talking to me, I have groceries for that.
I leave the chocolate (buy my groceries) and I march to all the clairs like stores I have passed. My portugese pear is amazing. The only problem is all their rings are costumy. I had been planning to bring an engagement-like ring with me on my trip for this very purpose. The only problem was I didn´t own one. I hate rings. My fingers hate rings. I brought along a gold band that had happysad drama face on it (it´s the only ring I´ve ever liked-I stole it from my sister), but turtle laughed that I thought an obvious costume ring might work. I am willing to pay anything for a engagement-looking ring right now. Up to €5 anyways. I find one that fits but it´s an enormous purple stone surrounded by (fake) diamonds. The point is to cut down my admirers, not get my finger lopped off by a gypsy kid. I keep looking.

After searching for 45 minutes in 5 different stores, I find it. It´s a simple silver band. It has 3 little diamonds on the bottom on the left side and 3 little diamonds on the top on the right side. I put it on and took it off. It did panic me a little how I kept thinking it was stuck on my finger for life (the main reason I hate rings), but after 7 or so tries I was convinced I wouldn´t be stuck with a stupid ring on my finger for the rest of my life. It can come off with a calm mind and a little work. It´s €3.95. that´s like 6 dollars. for a ring. but I agree that it will be totally worth it if it works. You are absolutly correct Thrifty girl. I buy it and put it on. I go use the restroom and think about who gave it to me.

His name is Andrew. We are getting married November 27th. He is a year from becoming a doctor. He is tall and blond. He was really busy with his residencies (or whatever they are called) and Andrew isn´t that interested in travel, he´s got his doctor thing. We are going to live in Boston. We met in Kansas City. I miss him a lot and after I do my Europe thing, I´ll come back and settle down in Boston. Thinking about it, Andrew is a bit of a square, but I don´t actually have to be attracted to him, just engaged. Besides, with my mind, it´s probably a good thing I´m not attracted to my fake fiance. Half of my honest to goodness crushes have been on literary characters.

I look at the Ring and introduce myself. Hi, I´ll do my best, but just so you know, there are men out there who don´t really care if there is a ring on your finger. I know Ring, but if you get rid of the decent guys for me, I only have to get rid of the indecent ones, it will save me time and energy. And I need that energy for mugger awareness, crossing streets, and keeping watch that I don´t daydream all the time. Fine with me, lets go.

I go out with my left hand in display. And it was beautiful. Men looked at me and saw the silver glittering on my ring finger and looked away and kept walking. The sun came out and I kept walking, strutting a little even. I was superwomen. Super travel girl with an €3.95 fake engagement ring on my finger.

I got stuck on a few narrow streets that made me a little nervous, but all in all have a good walking day. I ate some swordfish and ran into Beatriz. We hug. She asks me what I´m doing that night. I´m not doing anything. We´ll coming here to get a drink (in the european sense.) If you´d like to join us. It won´t be late because we have a flight in the morning.
I consider it and ask what time
Well, it has to be early because we have to be to the airport at 6am.
Probably 11. It will just be till 12.
Hah. Oh I´m an old lady. An old lady schoolmarm. I tell Beatriz it is a little late for me (she already thinks I´m a very interesting creature.)
I consider but there´s no way in heck I´m walking down to the river at 10:30 and a cab would be €10. I think every possiblity of going out people, other than thursday night, has had a €10-€30 price tag. I really like Beatriz, such a cute lovely lisbon girl, but I´m liking my safe little hotel room (after I look under the bed, in the shower, and in the sitting room.).

Monday.
It´s 4:00 and I meant to just be in the cheap internet cafe till 2 when I could check into my new hotel but got a little comfortable. they have mtv on so I´m a little distracted. While is discouraging to not be able to escape your countries stupid songs, it does feel like I´ve brought along my ipod or mix tape. Except when "photograph" comes on. Help. Us. All. "loook at this photogrrrrraaaaph." most disgusting sounding singing voice ever. How I hate that song. How I hate it so. But coldplay came on "and I will try to fix you...." ahh. thanks. and (don´t know the singer) "so you had a bad day, blah blah blah blah,sing a sad song, turn it around, so you had a bad day" again thanks.
andJust for you Ans. Natasha Beddingfield. "IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou." Hah ha. (kiss) And apparently it´s the european version of her video. No fun dancing stereos. In this she´s storming around a cool european cottage in cool clothes, cutting flowers and scribbling in a notepad. Though it´s still a little fantasyish video. So I guess you might have still hated the song with a passion even if you had seen this video. But she was wearing very nice clothes. And there were flowers. and lots of colors. and sketchbooks. Tips, you would have liked it.

Lisbon Day 7 and Day 8-bus to Porto

Day 7 (fri)
I was not a supertourist today. But I´m alright with that.

A girl in my room (she had been sleeping when I had came into the room) and I started to talk. She was checking out of the hostel to meet her parents at a hotel a 45 minute walk away. She had been planning to wander around the neigborhoods, and since she had her big backpack with her, I gave her a fellow traveler´s "just so you know..." warning. (I have been giving a lot of those to people in the hostel here in Lisbon. Just so you know... the rossio station is closed. Just so you know... this is a bad area of town... Just so you know... if you get this card it saves you money. While they are grateful I´ve saved them also having to go through it, I feel a little schoolmarmish.) I showed her the main shot to the hotel on the map.

I could either get the tourist card and run around the city, or have a conversation, a pastry, and a walk with someone. I choose the latter. It felt right. Anna from Canada and I shared our love of pastry (we also had the public television/healthy food childhood in commen). We talked about that if you gain 10 pounds while enjoying the most delicious bread in the world, so be it. We both walk around everywhere, so it all evens out.

We had been planning to walk around the main city park but instead we sat on a park bench in front of the hotel with Anna´s backpack. We are both young, have lighter hair, glasses and are tall. And one female of this description in Portugal is one thing. But two! One man after the other kept looking at us as we sat and talked on the park bench.

I was going on about how I wear two money belts. One hidden, tucked under the underwear (in a travel view, it´s not gross), and the other right outside- a decoy money belt with a little change. However I wasn´t able to explain about the secret moneybelt for a few minutes because An old man with white hair stopped right in front of us and stared at us with a little hungry smile, so I just started talking gibberish. "So I said I was going to go to the store...." The man walks a little more and stops again and stares and smiles again. Repeat. Repeat. Reapeat. "I´m just going to keep talking like this until he´s further away..." Anna understands, she´s been living in Brussels and gets proposed to every day. She nods her head and my brain starts to process actual sentences. "Is he still looking at us?"
"yes." But he´s out of earshot so I continue about the money belt.

Another man, another stare so I decide to stop talking about how I hide my money in a public area and trick theifs. The old man has now taken a seat at the nearest parkbench so he gets a good veiw. I tell Anna that I have got to do laundry, the only thing I had to wear today was my knee length black skirt (though I´m also wearing a baggy sweatshirt) and perhaps this is why every guy in the park is looking (besides the fact that we are both tasty foreign treats). Then I remember that the baggy yoga pants, the professional tan pants and the long hippy shirt didn´t prevent looks either.
"Yeah, that´s the first thing I thought when I saw you this morning Michelle." She points at me "Slut. That´s what this girl is."
We both laugh but then shortly another man stops and stares and takes the park bench on the other side as a man in a tan sweater walks quickly by and also does a double take, but he has a job to go to. And the nearest parkbenches are taken.
Anna decides she´s had enough of Lisbon and we go into the hotel to see if her dad has arrived. He has. He´s cute and british but he has a meeting. Anna and I sit on the balcony and talk until her mom comes. We get tea and pastry and then They walk back with me. Anna is contemplating hiding in the hotel the whole weekend and I try to convince her that would be sad, because Lisbon is beautiful (dirty and a little dangerous, but beautiful). We keep loosing her (also adorable) mom who keeps getting sidetracked by shops or views. I convince them that they have to see a few views from the Barrio Alto so we trek up one set of stairs after the other and after many views we come upon a busy public park. Kids are playing, Old women are tossing a ball back and forth, and the men are playing cheese. Anna and her mom are going to find their way back to the hotel and I am once again alone. But I´ve been here before so I take the main road down to the center. I stop to grab a water bottle and get a look when I hand the cashier a 20€ bill instead of a €1. Apparently there is a coin shortage in Lisbon because every single time I havn´t had a €2 coin or 20 cent, or whatever coin is appropriate the cashiers look at me and question (in portugese) something along the lines of "don´t you have the right change? Dig through your purse till you find it schmuck. I´m not breaking this." Sometimes I have, but this time it´s not possible. He reluctently hands over the coins and I keep walking down the hill.

I conveniently end up at my icecream shop and the last flavors I have left are walnut and almond. I decided that while it´s still icecream, I don´t need to test anything with nuts in it again. "Michelle!" I turn around with a start, freaked out that someone in Lisbon knows my name and Zeeshawn from the hostel is walking towards me. "You scared me man." "I´m sorry, where´d you get the icecream cone" I´m start to answer because his brain has jumped onto the next subject "This is my friend blondguyfromcalifornia and blondgirl. Do you know where this street is?" We go on the street search. The hostel is booked up so Zeeshawn and friend have to find a new hostel. They find the new hostel and I tell Zeeshawn I´m heading back "We´re all eating at the hostel at 10, then at midnight to go to the bars again."
"are they going to be little seedy ones in the back streets?" I ask as I walk down the stairs. He points at me, both arms waving "You know it!" I laugh tiredly and say that I´m going to sleep instead. I eat my pasta in the lounge and then read. Zeeshawn(from texas) and blondcalifornian are in barcelona studying spanish (for a great deal of the northamericans I´ve met who are studying in europe, well there seems to be quotes around studying. They are in europe!) and are on spring break. The hostel guy tells Zeeshawn and his friend two beds are available because there was a cancelation, but they´ve already found a room. He then tells me I´m by myself tonight.
"You missed out, Zeeshawn. You guys would have been roommates with me!"
"Dang it!"
"We could have had pillowfights, talked all night, cuddled," the blondcalifornian laments.
"Yeah, shoot... Hah. I get my own room." Guy (be it snoring australian, snoring french canadian or non-snoring buddist monk (or bouncing texanwhoseparentsarefromindia or flirtyfriendlycalifornian who will come home at 4 in the morning) free. Mom and Dad, it´s a clean, safe bed in a good european hostel or $100 hotel room or the street. And the street is also co-ed. I´m just saying...

After a group of us finish eating rediculous amounts of couscous I go to bed instead of watching another round of checkers with the 10 other girls are gathered around. The 10 other girls who are waiting to go out decide to watch another stirring round.

I wake up and open my door to see if I can grab the one floor bathroom and someone´s in it. I step out of the room completly to be first in line. I hear a voice behind me and one of the older women is standing there in her gray leggings and holding a towel. "You make one more move toward that door and I will charge and smash you like the little ant you are" she calmly warns me in german. Maybe portugese. It´s amazing how much you can understand with just body language and vocal tone. I decide to make a spinach and egg omlete.

I go upstairs after breakfast and the shower is still taken, I sense a presence and am met with another towel holding german women who raises an eyebrow at me. I hold up a hand of peace and go downstairs and double check to see where the bus station is. Spunky little Ava waits while I do this and tells me how she also didn´t go out last night because she far too tired. Little cello playing austrian Ava. I will miss seeing her gormet dishes and how she pulls in her chair and leans in and lowers her voice like she has a secret whenever she´s going to tell you anything directly. Though it can make it bloody hard to know what she´s saying.

I go up and the shower is open! I jump in and there´s no water. Agh. I put my clothes back on, gather everything up and I go to the second level. nope, that shower doesn´t work either. I probably should have tried that first before I settled in. I put my clothes back on for the second time and go to the front desk. "Ah yes." Bruno says. "They cut a water main. It will be 15 minutes." It is 10:20 and I have to be at the bus station at least by 11:45 for my 12 bus. I pack up my bag and try again. No water. At 10:50 I resign myself to the fact that I´m not getting a shower today. I really should have taken one yesterday (but I would have missed talking to Anna and hanging out at the Ritz). That´s the foreign country/hostel lesson for the day. Take a shower whenever you can. It goes next to the, If there is food around, eat it rule. As I´m packing up I get a mysterious cut and my finger starts bleeding. Wow, water would be really nice right now. It´s not there. I can´t find a bandaid so I wrap toilet paper around the fingers with dried blood. Attractive.

I check out at 11:10. "You aren´t even going to wait to take a bath?" Bruno questions, wrinkling his nose at the thought. "I have a bus I have to catch" I say. "Be careful" he says. "I will."
Me and my earthy self walk to the metro and get to the bus station right at 11:40 and they are boarding the bus. That was cutting it to close. It´s packed. I have a seatmate for awhile but he goes and sits right by the driver. Either he wanted to talk to the driver or I smell, I don´t worry about it too much. I did put on deoderant, because it´s not effected by lisbon water systems. My backpack sits next to me until Fatima, when more people get on. I think the driver said that everyone gets a 15 minute break (this bus is like a greyhound, only no bathroom). I´m not going to risk it. Those who did get off come back to find their seats taken. A girl who got on with her two friends is one of them and she sits by me and my backpack sits back on my lap. She asks me something in portugese. "No (now) fala port..." "Would you like to put your bag on the floor." She says in perfect english. "No, I´m good. I might take a nap and use it as a pillow."

After awhile I get tired of this and start up a conversation with my seatmate. She is from Lisbon and is traveling to Porto with her friends to take a flight to London (spring break).
We talk the rest of the way.
I tell her about how I´m moving to Chicago when I get back and this sounds crazy to her after she finds out I don´t know anyone there, nor do I have a job. "You´re just going to move there." "Yep" "But your family and friends, they are where you were." "Yeah, but it´s only 5 hours away." She laughs a bit shocked at this and explains that "only 5 hours.." in portugal is at the top of the country. She talks about
She says an "oh no" to my "stalking", "men staring" situtaions and assures me it´s never happened to her or her friends. "I know somewhere else that would be bad, but here, He probably just liked you" She then says (as for all the lisbon incidents) "I guess it is because you are blond that you are a target." "Now I know I´m white, but I´ve never thought of myself as blond! I have brown hairI´m actually considered to be the dark one of my family. ."
"Here [in portuagal] you are blond." She laughs.
My face falls a little. I don´t want to be blond. I´ve never wanted to be blond. (well, when I was five I did. but I was a confused kid.) "I could dye my hair black..... "
"Just enjoy it. You are blond."
"But I´m a brunette!"
She laughs at me and we talk about other things. I still really don´t want to be blond but I keep this struggle to myself.

She questions if I get lonely when I travel alone. She´s never done it. I explain the benefits and also say how it´s a lot easier to meet people. "See, if I was traveling with someone right now" I say "I wouldn´t be talking to you." "That is true, but I am with my friends and I am talking to you because they are sleeping." She´s so cute. We both keep playing with our hair as we talk to eachother. Though her´s is all curly so there´s more to work with.

I tell her about the two porugese soaps I saw- floribella and the highschool one and she grimaces. "oh no. that is a horrible thing to see of portugal!" "But it was so fun!" "But you don´t know portugese." I tell what happened in the episode I saw The rich family thought the little boy was kidnapped. The rich women was happy the tv crew was coming over but only because then she´d be on tv, but she really hates the little boy. And the little boy wasn´t kidnapped, he was hiding under the spunky main characters bed because he doesn´t like the rich women... and she looks at me "wow. you really did understand what was going on..." "I´ve watched too much tv and with soap operas (or bad tv) they pretty much use the same plots... in any country." God bless america. (Was it us who started the whole soap opera thing? or was it mexico, spain or portugal?)
She tells me some things about the shows that even my gift for deciphering utter crap couldn´t know. las moreanjas or something, the highschool show has actually been going on for 3 years and you follow the characters through to college (like saved by the bell I say. yes.) ...and they try to deal with things like sex and drugs but they don´t do a very good job... (oh it´s more like 90210 then. (because the raciest thing I saw on saved by the bell was a toga/drinking is bad episode)) Anyone 13 to 17 is addicted to the show. And no, teachers in portugal do not wear off the shoulder flowing scarve clothes or skateboarder shirts. Only on something Las morenjas. (I scratch becoming a teacher in portugal off my list) And floribella has only been on a month and is more magical, has crazier clothes and it isn´t doing very well because it´s on the same time as highschool show and the kiddies can´t give up their crappy show.

I was so happy to get the inside scoop on the awesome portugal soaps that I offer her my londonmap instead of sending it home (shoot! I didn´t ask about the reality show where they make celebrities be in a second rate circus. they make them perform everynight in a little tent with a small audience and everything. how that thought made me laugh. Though I´ve never been able to stomach any celebrity reality show in US because ech). And Beatriz gives me her email. And invites me to go out for a drink with them if I want.

Go to the hotel, go to internet, am really tired, go to bed.

Lisbon: Day 6 (thur)

london day 1-3 is updated as much as it´s going to be while i´m traveling

I´m not going to do much today. Just finalize my plans, book my buses, mail some cards, book hostels in italy. It´s still raining. I have enough food to feed me until saturday so I´m going to eat that. I plan to be a supertourist tomorrow.

For breakfast I had eggs with capers, noodles from last night, some anise crackers (big circles) and an orange. everyone here cooks so well. little gourmands with their garlic, onions, and white wine.

love, michelle

4/5

I think I´m going to stop on trying to update this to the extent I´ve been trying to do. It´s frusterating, trying to type out an entry, getting off the computer 7 times so all the other hostelers can check their my space accounts (internet is free here). I stayed in for a great deal of the day so I could get the entries typed up before I forgot, but it was raining, so people kept popping in to check their mail or look at pictures of their friends. And then at the internet cafes, any entry I am paying 4 euros or more for 2 hours.

But I´ll keep writing in my journal, so all of you will get to read the long hand version eventually. But I´ll put up little updates. This way there will be more interesting things to read rather than, worked on the internet all day while in an international city.

today, rained, stayed in, went out, walked around neighborhood, went to the grocery store, cooked up leeks and eggs, talked with the hostel kids, went to bed at a good time. Really nice hostel.

Lisbon: Day 4 and Day 5 (tues and wed)

I check out of my hostel and walk the 40 minutes downtown with my bag. Most hostels don´t like you to clock in till 2 or 3 so I go to an internet cafe and type out my train story. 4 euros just because I love all of you. The man hands me a card so I can keep track of my time. It says 12,12. 12,12. No, it´s 11:12. I look at the computer clock. No, it´s 12:12. My clock is an hour behind. When did that happen? I must have set my clock back 2 hours instead of just one when we crossed the border. And I´ve just now noticed it. I know I vaugely wandered how it was already 4pm when I left the hostel on sunday. So when I was walking home at 9:30, it was 10:30. opps. No more changing my watch while in a half coma on a night train. Because I´ve just proven I´m not going to notice it for days.
I check into my hostel and it´s lovely. It is on one of the narrow little streets in the Barrio Alto, but it´s got great character. Tiles, hardwood floors, bright little rooms, no graffiti.
I soak in my room for awhile and think about what I want to do. It´s 4 (actually 4) and I haven´t eaten all day except for my rye bread, an orange (a portugese orange) and seasame seeds. I would like an ice cream cone. You had one yesterday. And it was perfect! 1.5 euro, a sweet sugar cone, and two scoops. I want to try EVERY flavor. Yes, I am going to get an ice cream cone and walk around the barrio alto. That is what I will do. I get my icecream cone (coffee and vanilla scoops) and walk around. I am on a search for a resturant I saw the first day I was here. It was hidden in the middle of the neighboorhood and It charmed me. It was just there, on the dirty stones. Several couples were seated outside, enjoying their white wine, eating 7 euro chicken. I didn´t have the sense to write the street down so it´s going to be a bit of a needle in the haystack search. I take a street and come upon a park with a fantastic city view. Oh my gosh. I have to interupt here. someone. some person has been whisteling for the last 20 minutes and I want to kill them. kill them. what a horrible gift to posess whistling. they are quite good, which I guess makes them think it´s ok to trill every song they know.damn. I can´t see who it is since they are in the other room. but I want to know who it is so I can silently hate them whenever I see them. damn whistler. Ive been pretty noise sensitive the last couple days. There was a loud canadian in the common room yesterday who talked no softer than a shout. He was here this morning to. IT`S SOOOO NICE THEERE. YOOOU SHOOOULD GO. Why do loud people love to talk. It´s also loudly raining. loud. everyone is loud. loud. loud. loud.

Mom, please don´t print this out and send to grandma. it´s a work in progress. I´m going to go out and brave the rain and maybe i´ll be less of a irratated person then. and don´t print off tan pants either. It really wasn´t that scary since it was still light at 8 (or 9 =) ) and there was a lot of people around. It was just really annoying. I believe he is the 4th stalker I´ve had in my life. Yep 4th. There was the guy who only went to class to stare at me at dmacc (I know this because he told me, after a couple weeks of just staring at me), there was the man with the big bronco in clive who thought he was clever to follow me by going into each parking lot to see where I walked next, and there was the guy on drugs in drake who stalked me on a sunny saturday and made some very inappropriate gestures and statements so I was forced to take an alternate route home so he wouldn´t see where I lived while carrying a table and two chairs. What stunk was I couldn´t just go on other streets because I risked getting even more further away from my destination later at night and it was the only main, safe street for around a half hour.



oh man. I´m just going to finish this later.

Lisbon:Day 2 and 3 (sunday and monday)

Lisbon- day 2 (short version) walked around. as I walk around the narrow streets, two guys and a girl pass me. One of them looks at me and says something in portugese that sounds like mishmishmish. The girl makes an angry sound and smacks him. Thanks lisbon girl. I don´t know if you were defending the honor of a fellow female, or ticked your boyfriend was making sexual comments to someone other than you, but thanks. I found a lovely monastary courtyard and had a mineral water and a pastry. I had planned to go to the post office, but I thought I had been walking north and west, but when I finally located myself on a map I saw I was had only been going north, and was an hour away from anywhere. It was 7:30 so I knew I needed to be quick to get home before dark. I stick to one large street so I don´t get lost this time. I had been walking down the street for almost 20 minutes when I realized that a pair of tan pants had been behind me for sometime. The tan pants belonged to someone that had been walking a little too close to me 10 minutes earlier, so I had walked a little faster and then forgotten about it. Am I being paranoid? No, my brain answers. I start to walk faster. So does he. Crap, that jerk is totally following me! I walk faster and he does well, I can feel his eyes on my back. I can not keep this pace up with sandles on slippery stone sidewalks. So I abruptly stop, planning to cross the street and he keeps walking. Ok, maybe I was being paranoid. I don´t want to cross the street, it´s busy, a whole bunch of lanes and the opposite direction from where I want to go. I keep walking. Tan pants seems to be walking slower. Oh. He´s totally walking slower. He looks back at me and slows down some more. If I slow down anymore I´ll be stopped. Crap. Cross! Cross! Ah! I can´t. In the moment I take to look for a way to cross he swoops in on me. Spanish? he says. No. English? Yes I say, walking faster. But we´ve been introduced now, so he´s firmly planted on my side. He only speaks some, but doesn´t let that stop him. He asks me if I´m from LA or NYC. New York I say. He gets my name. I don´t say it´s Michelle. He says his name and I instantly forget it. We´ve been walking side by side for 10 minutes now. I need to find a way to get away, he is not following me home. I have to loose him at the city center. He seems harmless enough, but I´m ticked. It´s one thing to approach someone. It´s another to completly stalk them for 35 minutes down a street. I could have sprained my bloody ankle. Do you like Disciaoteca? "Disciaoteca?" Disco. "No, I´ve been sick, I´m going to bed. I´m actually on my way there right now." We get to the city center and I backtrack and walk across the pedestrain walkway without saying goodbye. I cut across the large square and cross the pedestrian way. There´s the ocean. I look around the square and ´tan pants isn´t there. good. I glance at the map to make sure I´m not going down the wrong street. I glance up and there he is, standing at the pedestrian crossing, looking at me with his huge glasses and mustache. I take off down the street and I lose him. Walk the last 15 minutes stalker free.

day 3 really nice day hiking to a hilltop castle where I can see a great deal of portugal. beautiful (and stalker free)

day 4, new hostel, really nice (still stalker free)

The Night Train and Day 1 in Lisbon (4/1)

I made it to the station with 40 minutes to spare and waited on track 3. I met an (yet another)australian who wasn´t really looking forward to a 12 hour train ride. I handed him an orange and told him it would be fine. I wear my 57 hour greyhound bus ride like a badge, with it I am the cool traveler who could handle anything.

I see the train and get ready to hop on and a women stops me. "no habla espanol" "local. train." she says. "ah. gracias"
The train comes 15 minutes later and everyone is stuffs themselves into the 2 foot wide aisle that leads to the train compartments. Everyone seems to be just grabbing a seat in the most maddening fashion. They find a compartment, but they don`t completly exit the aisle, so everyone is still trapped behind them. The people who were already on the train seem to feel this is an oprotune time to strole down the aisle. They glare at the rest of us for daring to be there with our luggage. Some of them are stricking up conversations that require on person to stand in the compartment and the other in the aisle. I forget about reserved seats in the midst of this. Iºm getting close to going mad and I throw myself into the nearest compartment. "Is there room" I say "Just get in" I hear, as if I was the one holding everything up this whole time. I start to secure my backpack to the overhead rail with my lock as the same voice insults my locking style "Does it somehow work better if you loop it twice?" I turn around to see who has been snipping at me sarcastically in perfect english but noone is looking up, they are all conversing with eachother in spanish. I peg the blond guy with the white checkered shirt. He is stitting with this arms crossed and he has a smug expression on his face. He is speaks easily with everyone and has struck up a friendship with the old man sitting next to him and across from me. The old man is reclining in his seat, his cheerful belly preventing him from sitting up straight. He keeps trying to extend his legs straight but mine are preventing him from doing that. He decides my nonexistant foot space would be the perfect place to store his mandolin. He looks to be a nice old man so I don´t feel irratated, though I´m not cutting off my toes for his mandolin/euckalalee. The ticket guy comes around and two of us are not in our reserved seats. I am one of them. None of the compartments are marked so I just have to count down and guess at the right compartment and then squint at the tiny number markers on the seat. I find the right compartment and Iºm searching for 47. Itºs not on the right side. I turn around and a spanish guy smiles at me with raised eyebrows and pats the seat right next to him. 47. great. However, there are only 4 of us and there are 8 seats so I sit down on the empty to and gesture to my new boyfriend that we all might as well be comfortable. He keeps drinking this little beer called Super Bock with his friend. I really hate that same. Super Bock. Bah. I will later see this name 1,000 times on every add and corner window I pass. I´ve started to just deal with my hate.
A guy comes in and I am forced to cozy up with Super Bock boy. I look in my phrase book for "Don´t touch me" (no may tochas), not because I think he will, but if there is any chance in the world he does, I don´t want to have to get out my phrase book and turn on the light at 2 in the morning. A phrase like donºt touch me is really best used right in the appropriate moment.
I look out to the aisle and a blond british girl appears to be hanging out while someone else talks to people in the next compartment. This person enters our compartment and I just look at him. He looks like a cool teacher, glasses, curly black hair and gray tweed pants. He is definently not a cute teacher because He flashes a police badge and commands us to get out our passports and identification. Oh. I get mine out and wait somewhat nervously. Everyone Iºve met up till now keeps talking about how you practically don´t need your passport now (you need it to get in, but they donºt think it would be a huge deal if it got stonlen since the borders arenºt strict on the continent now.) I totally disagree. The blond girl and another guy stand glumly behind him. The policeman asks Mr. forcedmetositinmyactuallyseat if he speaks spanish "pequeno" (or however you spell a little in spanish). He asks me the same question as he looks over my passport front to back. "No habla espanol" For once I´m glad I don´t because I probably would have had to answer more questions like mr. pequeno did. We are all legal so the policeman leaves with the two naughty brits in tow. I wasn´t planning on that so it freaked me out. What really freaked me out was all the people on the travel boards who give little posts like`"me or my gf have been living in madrid illegally for 2 years, and we have a wedding to go to in france, are we going to be ok" Some people say that there is barely any checks. Others tell them to not be stupid even if there are few checks. Others let them have it. I would let them know to just make sure they are not on a train with me or someone like me, because that train is getting checked. I am watching Mr. Pequeno because his spanish seems pretty fluent to me. Why would he say a little to the policeman? I eye his metal suitcase. Hmmmm. I bet that his ACTUAL seat is right next to super bock guy #2. Not on the comfy two seats.

Ugh. I feel so sick. We have been shifting back and forth for hours and my stomach is a bubbleling cauldren. back and forth. back and forth. I can´t feel my legs very well either. There´s only two feet of foot space and you only get a less than foot of that, so since my legs extend a lot further than half a foot, Iºm forced to tuck my feet in. There are 8 of us now and Iºve decided that compartments are torture chambers. Two guys who don´t look all there keep walking past the compartments, staring into them with a mad smile on their face. Compartments look so romantic on tv. Like a cozy living room. A little stinky laughably cramped living room. I go for a little walk in the aisle and see my old compartment. The old man is playing his mandolin and singing softly while everyone smiling peacefully. The light is on and everyone is wearing soft pastel colored sweaters. I keep walking and test out the train bathroom. The toilet empties out directly on the tracks so you can hear rocks bouncing around directly underneath you. I´m terrified that I´m going to get clocked in the bum by a small boulder. I don´t spend very long in that bathroom. As I walk back I hear a shrill scream and a large group crowds around the compartment. A boy is standing outside with his mickey mouse backpack and a small mousy women hurries out. A passanger asks the mousy women (who was the screamer) what happened. It´s all in spanish but I see one of the mad aisle walkers is in there. The take'charge passanger starts arguing with the madaisle walker. All I can tell is he did something inappropriate to the women but doesnºt think he did. He argues w- passanger man, who is going to report him. I go back to my little hole and all the guys are talking about the recent drama and laughing. So I guess it wasnºt too serious.

Itºs about 3am and Iºve slept off and on and I can tell my legs are close to swelling so I get up and stand in the aisle. A lot of other people have chosen to do this as well. Mr. Pequeno is also standing there. I have taken off my boots and am rubbing my feet. I donºt care if they smell, I am not going to have enormous legs. I stand for an hour or so, stretching and shaking out my legs until the stiff feeling goes away. I get out my tonic water and labourously try to pry off the lid. Come on! I need you tonic water. I try to use my cap to protect my hand from the little metal grooves but it still wonºt come off. Mr. Pequeno helps me out, smashing the top off with the metal window rail. If I had tryed that glass and tonic water would be everywhere. I give him an orange. I feel like such a benefactress, handing out oranges from my 1euro bag. He peels it in front of the open window and the smell of oranges gets blown around the aisle. What a nice smell. I figured out the secret to survive the death train. Lot of aisle time and tonic water. I am able to sleep some after that.

I get off at 11 and walk out to find my hostel. It is right by the station. They let me check in and I take a shower and get settled. I have a plan to go to Sintra (a popular day trip place from Lisbon). Since I have my train pass and it´s valid for 4-1. I walk the 20 minutes to the local train station and notice that there is something off about Lisbon. The buildings are beautiful, the sun is shining brightly and something justs feels off about it. I buy a crossaint. It´s more heafty and not as lovely and flaky as the ones in San Sebastian, but it´s still bread. Noone is out, I´m practically the only one on the streets. I decide to figure out what the problem is later and go to the train station. The map does not look like this station has a train that goes to sintra, but the ticket girl says it does. I get on the train after almost beating down a group with my bag who decided to stop have a family meeting right in front of me, trapping me as everyone streamed off the train. I wiggled throuh around them and I look at the map of destinations the train has. It says Caicais. Not Sinta. But the ticket girl said... I decide not to trust her and I get off the train. I´m tired. I decide to walk to the station that it looks like the correct train leaves from. I quickly put my finger on what is off to me about Lisbon. There is graffetti literally everywhere. Every fancy, beautiful building you pass has junky grafitti sprinkled around it. Does the goverment just hand out the spray cans for free? I make my way up a narrow steep hill, stepping around the dog poop. I earlier walked past a park in which 4 people looked like they had been living there for some time. To the point they had a washline and a big burner set up. Portugal is one of the poorer countries and I just came from a resort area, I get that. But what I don´t get is that all I´ve read and heard noone mentioned it.All the fellow travelers, all the guides, Noone mentioned it. They just talked about was that everyone knew english, there was a lot of pastry shops, that it´s a nice city, and that it rained when they were there. I guess on the travel shows they weren´t kidding when they compared lisbon to san fransico. Samantha Brown and RIck Steves look at me and laugh. "Oh, you thought we said it was like San Fransico because of the cable bridge, the hills and the history? Sweet girl, no. We meant the decay, crime, smell and gross imbalance of rich and poor. Didn´t you see us wink after we said San Francisco?
This was my relax and rewind stop. I´m spending 7 days here. My spirts lift a little when I find a supermarket. I don´t dislike Lisbon, I´m just having to adjust the way I originally planned to view it. My guidebook did say not to walk around some of the neighboorhoods at night, so I´m glad they at least someone wasnted me to informed. Some of the buildings look just days from crumbeling into a dirty heap. A lot are covered in tiles (still with graffiti). Wallpaper for buildings. I am way off from reaching the station. I´m not lost, I just didn´t realize I would be shot up an enourmous hill on my mapped out route and it would take me 1 hour to get off it. Everything is so windy and narrow I am careful to only walk down streets others are walking down until I get more comfortable. Lisbon is starting to grow on me. I finally make my way to the center and stumble upon the rich downtown. There is still beggers at every corner, but less poop. I search for the station in vain. I finally figure out it´s underground, but it seems to not be there either. I give up. Everyone seems to have entered from where they were hiding and people are pleasantly strolling around the large pedestrian walkways. I join them for awhile and then decide that I´m tired and hungry and have been walking around for 4 hours. I make my way back and stop at a resturant. The waiter starts to talk to me and before I can say anything the waiter at the resturant right next door pulls me away. Ènglish. We speak english. I polietly look at the menu and tell him I´m going to keep walking. I do and decide I have to have a real meal now. I go back to resturant number 1. "fala englash? (do you speak english)" "No. Portugese." But the way he says it is No,silly I´m Portugese so I speak Portugese. I respond in an Yes, I know, Of course smile and I order sardines. I don´t know why. I just knew I´d like them. I doubted they´d be the can kind.
He brings out a plate of cheese, bread, and a little fried thing. I am prepared. I know that portugese waiters bring out appatizers and the unarmed tourist is pleased and eats them up, only to be suprised to spend 5-15 more than they thought. "Cuanto Cuesta?" The waiter writes down that the fried thing is 1.5, the bread .30, and the cheese 1. I pantomime that I just want the bread. I don´t know if I´ve upset him or not. You´re just doing what Rick Steves said, and Rick is a polite, sensitive traveler. You were nice about it, you used your portugese phrases, So you´re fine. Five minutes later the waiter puts olive oil and vinager on the table and walks off and I´m met with a delima. The vinager is open. The olive oil is not. I don´t have to pay for it do I? I decide to give the cuanto cuesta a rest and I have a small bit of bread and to not have it with the olive oil would be a crime, so I crack it open.
The waiter brings my sardines and salad when I´m done and I hear him say seis. seis? six? Crap! did I just buy a 6 euro bottle of olive oil? I look at the olive oil. It would be ok if you did. wouldn´t it? I blush and smile. "Yeah. you would be a bit clumsy to travel with, but you really are the greatest condiment in the world." The salt looks at me and glares. "Ok, well you are basic table salt. But if you were some sea salt than it would be a total tie."
My sardines are the side of a small football. they are not tiny little canned things. and they are covered in seasalt and they are tasty. They also have 2 million bones in them, but after I pull out the main spine, the other bones can basically just be carefully eaten. It would take far to long to pull them all out. And fish bones are supposedly great for calcium. I´m not eating the spine though. I draw the line there. I get the bill and find I won´t be taking home any olive oil. I´m just paying for the bread, water and fish as I planned. I walk back home and put my water in the fridge. My roomates are from Paris. "Would you like to drink with us." I decline, I´m still having to be careful. I watch part of The pirates of the carrabein (bah sp) with them. It´s in english with portugese subtitles. Fanny asks me if I´d just like a little taste. It´s very sweet she says, it´s sangria. They are drinking out of tiny little plastic cups so I just take a taste. We talk a little and then I go to bed.