Exciting life news!

Well, friends and family, it's official! I have some exciting life news to announce. I am moving to MIDDLE EARTH! That's right New Zealand. Here is some background information.

Last summer when I had my Spain adventure I got a little more than what I bargained for... I met someone on my bus trip. His name was Guy and he was finishing up working abroad in London. For his last hurrah he chose to go on several bus trips around Europe and his last adventure was on the same Spain bus trip as me. We connected pretty earlier on and had a blast together. When it was time for him to fly away from Europe back to NZ I thought I'd never see him again. That made sad. But when I returned to the states myself we found each other on Skype and started talking for HOURS. I'm serious.  I have no idea what we talked about for those endless hours with a ridiculous time difference, but we talked and things grew stronger. He came to visit SF for two weeks around Thanksgiving time. I thought I we would fight and get sick of one another. Nope! We had a great time.  We even went to Yosemite!

So long story short I have made the executive life decision  to move to NZ for a variety of reasons that I won't get into here but it is an exciting time in my life to go experience life in another country. I'll start the process of applying for a working visa, getting my cat the right paperwork in motion for the move (because yes, Ness is coming with me no matter what), and saving every bit of money I have. I have installed a PayPal widget on my blog main page so if you are interested in giving I wouldn't say no. In fact, you'd be getting lots of postcards and special emails.

Thanks for the love and support everyone. It's a big decision that didn't come easily but once I made the decision in my heart everything started falling into place. So I'm sorry if you're not getting any presents this year or if I don't go out for drinks/dinner as often.

Bring it on 2013!

Flying home... Slowly

Have you ever heard of AirEuropa? Me either. Until now. I got to sit on their plane for a bit over 7 hours from Madrid to NYC. I think I'm spoiled with my past flying experiences because this flight was yucky. I always look forward to catching up on movies I never paid to watch in the theaters but this was an old school plane that have the central TVs for everybody to watch together. For some reason the sound was terrible and kept cutting out which meant I saw the beginning 10 minutes of The Hunger Games three times all without sound, then I watched Salmon Fishing in the Yemen which is one movie I really wanted to see. With all the stops and starts to get the sound back online it took about three hours to watch a little over half of the movie. I still don't know how it ends but I assume there is fishing involved.

Ther was a high amount of loving couples on my plane. Maybe that is just how the Spanish are but many couples slept in each others arms which look uncomfortable but it looks very endearing. When the kid behind me puked halfway through the flight the cute couple in my row gave me some perfume to put under my nose. The smell was pretty bad for awhile. The puke, not the perfume. One very nice thing about thought was that I had no one directly to my left so I could stretch out my stumpy legs mid flight.

Here is my ever important list of everything I consumed on the flight because I find it interesting. Pasta with meat sauce, a strange carrot salad in vinegar, brownie cake, bread, orange Fanta, tea, tea, a hot croissant/pastry thing with queso y jamon, and more tea. At one point the flight attendant said "You like my tea, yes"? I said "Si".

Also I took Dasha's neck pillow that shaped like a U. One of those pillows I always giggled at. Holy Toledo, it is amazing. I'm buying one ASAP. No weird kinks in your neck when you wake up from a shallow nap.

Then I had an 10 - 11 hour layover at JFK. Ate some salad (I needed greens), drank a beer, called my parents (who better be reading this because they promised they would [HI MOM, HI DAD]). Then it was nap time. I actually got a couple of hours in once I figured out how. The towel in the ground is key. Sufjan Stevens in your ear too, very important. If I was into photography I'd love to do a photo series entitled "The Desperate Sleeper." You start sleeping one way, clutching all your valuables close to your body. But as the sleep becomes elusive you lessen your grip and topple into an odd sleep while you become sloppy on the airport ground. I even had a dream! But it was about flying and transfers and getting sleep.

My next, AND LAST, Delta flight was fairly standard with most people sleeping. I got about 10 minutes in. I'm terrible at catching Z's on a plane. Gimme a car any day and I'll pass out, but planes still have an element of excitement for me still. I bought a snack pack. Crackers, cheese, goldfish, salami, dried cranberries, and mini cookies. Dang it hit the spot. So is this eccentric pop playlist I created for myself to listen to via the planes internal small collection of obscure music.

I cannot wait to stumble to my SuperShuttle and stumble into my bed after saying hello to Ness (my cat). She's gonna freak out that I'm back. I love that excitement when she realizes it's me walking in and not a friend of mine.

My last days in a beautiful location

My last city I visited was San Sebastian and boy am I glad I saved the best for last.

I slept for most of the chaos of trying to find parking near our hostel. Eventually we settled into our rooms which was facing a beautiful cathedral which you could find on the local map by searching

for #1. Our first night we explored, mostly in the old part of town near our room. Things may have been on the expensive side but there is a ton of shopping and eating to be done in San Sebastian.

Let's talk pintxos (pronounced PIN-CHOS). You may remember me talking about tapas earlier and pintxos are sort of like northern Spain's version. Sort of. Tapas you get for free and are typically pretty easily put together and understood. Pintxos you pay for and they are exquisite. Imagine walking into a bar and on the bar top are platters full of various creations, typically bite sized. You load your plate up with whatever you fancy in that moment. Pay the bartender. Eat. The food is fancy and well crafted. It is a lot of seafood but I found many jamon and queso and tortilla based options to fill my belly. If you are someone who loves eel, octopus, roe, crab, lobster, cured meats, and cheese then you will be in heaven. Even though a typical pintxo is 2€ - 3€ you can never have just one.

There is a lot of shopping to do in San Sebastian and on my last couple of days I did not reference my bank account, I just kept pulling out euros. I bought shoes, a skirt, a dress, perfume oil... all in one store. Lots of souvenirs for people. Lots of food and tinto verronos, which is basically red wine and lemonade. VERY refreshing on a warm afternoon or evening or night. Anytime really. We three drank a lot of them, but don't worry there is not much alcohol in them so I always kept my wits about me.

The beaches were lovely. For more info please see my post about them. I had a lot to chat about when it came to beaches.

It was a nice end to a trip. Good friends in a beautiful place. I'll be going back someday with Future-Mister-Ann-Pattison.

Here is a picture to show off the beauty of San Sebastian... It is our view out of our window!

Driving Don Benz amid signs I could not read

When I picked up Dasha at the airport I also rented a car. Through Avis I got a small sporty Mercedes-Benz we nicknamed Don Benz. At first I was nervous about driving in a different country but thankfully it was mostly the same to driving in the US besides some minor differences. Like I couldn't read the caution signs. Thank goodness for TomTom, our british sounding GPS guide who dealt with our ups-and-downs when we could not count which 'exit' we were passing on the roundabout or who persistently reminded up key tips like KEEP LEFT or TOLL CHARGE. That's another thing, their tolls are high and frequent. Petrol was pricey too. Bitch-and-moan. I should be quiet, I had a fantastic vacation and have the rest of my life to pay off my credit card bills.

It was also very interesting to drive through many different areas of Spain and to see how things change depending what provence you are in. Some places were cleaner while others had frequent helpful signs, and others had none. The basque countryside was near impossible to read any signs. You went by your gut or TomTom's sometimes confusing directions.

Spanish beaches

Some thoughts on Spanish beaches.

The sand is unlike any sand I've touched. It does not want to wash off of you. It sticks to your toes, your heels, your ankles, and no light rinse will get it off. Major scrubbing is in order before you curl up into bed (or else it feels like an nighttime exfoliation scrub on your lower half, and trust me, it is not as nice as it sounds). While walking in the sand it is very soft and sucks you in when you are at shoreline. In San Diego the sand sort of does this if you stand still long enough to let wave after wave suck the sand away from around your feet. But the sand in Spain sucks you in right away making you fight for every moment to not be trapped on that beautiful beach with a beautiful view for forever.

The views are incredible. It is odd to this west coast girl to not see the sun set directly above the water but I will happily settle for a warm breeze sunset as the sun sinks behind lush green mountains. Except that sunsets happen at 9:30pm. That is much too late. I'm typically already in my PJ's!

The bodies on the beach are not southern Californian beach bodies I am accustomed to (I can't speak for northern Californian beach bodies because I haven't seen enough of them to form an opinion). The patrons of the water are all ages and they come from all around the world. There are your standard young women in perfectly fitting swimsuits ("bathers" as Aussies call them or "swim costume" to which I say IT IS NOT A COSTUME, HRUMPF), and toned men in skimpy speedos. But there are also a great deal of older people enjoying their retirement on the water and most of these women lounge about topless. Moms of young children too let it all hang out while their offspring romp naked in that hard to scrub off sand. It was such a relaxing atmosphere of people not caring what they looked like. Some bask in the sun, some do aqua aerobics in the still water, some jog, some get fantastic volleys going with their badminton set. For some time Dasha, Melissa, and myself did as the locals did and tanned parts of our bodies that are not accustomed to having sunblock on. It was refreshing. And nobody cared. And thank goodness I saw no SFDS families in San Sebastian.

The water is cold. Yes the sun is warm but the water is cold. The Atlantic is cold. I'm sure the beaches on the Mediterranean are completely different but the Spanish beaches I encounters did not entice you to linger in the languid current of the ocean. I was blessed to see schools of fish swim past my feet as I got in and out of the water.

The proportion of people on the beach to people in the water makes me giggle. Here in Spain you go to the beach to be on the beach and look out onto the water. You rarely go in.


Someday I will need to return to experience the southern beaches for myself but in the meantime I have very tan forearms and a lightly pink backside to remember my brief affair with Spanish beaches.

Donde esta la playa

Goodbye Portugal. I'll come back someday for shoes. They have LOTS of shoe stores.

We knew we wanted to go towards the ocean in Spain so we randomly picked a town between Porto and the ocean. We landed in Oviedo which just so happens to have a statue of a character from one of Dasha's favorite books. We just had to get a picture with La Regenta. We also had to find a place for dinner. Dasha did some quick research online and found someplace that had yummy looking desert. We had an address and a desire to find this place. We stopped to ask an older gentleman where this restaurant was and he asked us where our car was. That should have been our first hint we were in for something special. We asked some other girls if we were on the right path, they looked at us like we were crazy. Another older gentleman walked ahead with Dasha trying to locate this restaurant high up on the hillside. We must have walked for an hour on a slow incline. I hobbled most of the way and Melissa talked to the locals. We must of looked ragged when we walked in because when we tried getting a table the waiter pointed us down the stairs to where the toilets are. We explained that we wanted to eat to a staff that spoke no English. We were in over our heads but we ordered dinner anyways. A fancy bottle of wine, jamon, rice with carne, fish in cheese, and just like we were promised, a yummy desert. It set us back a pretty euro but the waiter was nice enough to call us a taxi so we didn't have walk back down the hill. It may not have been what we wanted or what we expected but it was a fun evening out filled with a good story. We even stayed at the restaurant till 11:45pm! We have been working hard to get on this Spanish schedule for eating but it is hard to eat so late in the middle of the night. Vacationing is hard.

After Oviedo it was time to stop at another port city, Santander, for our next hostel which we found on the outskirts of the city. We rang the bell but they never picked up. We improvised. After some quick food we settled down in a chocolateria that had Wi-Fi (pronounced WEE-FEE) and pulled out Rosita. Oh, did I mention that I bought an iPad before my trip. I love it and Rosita got us out of a jam. We could not get a bed for Saturday night in Bilbao because of an awesome sounding concert. Think of it as Outside Lands in Spain. The concert series of three days has an amazing lineup and a good price for all three days meaning every hostel and hotel was sold out. Instead we got a room in a tiny beach city called Naja. It was just what we needed. After a quick walk on a quiet beach we sat at a restaurant overlooking the water, drinking wine and chitchatting with some jamon. The sun went down and things got cooler but it was still wonderfully gorgeous. It felt very nice to be in such a lovely place where it was mostly locals going to the beach. I'm sure there was not many Americanas around. I got some photos on the beach for all of you who miss my face and silly poses.

Spain, part 2

Spain, part 1: My busabout tour.

Spain, part 1.5: Solo in Madrid

Spain, part 2: Traveling with friends!

Yes, I have friends. It all started one morning after a terrible nights sleep in a terrible hostel. I woke up early in a groggy state of mind to ride the Madrid metro at 6am. This is unheard of by a country that parties till 5am and siestas all afternoon. I stood outside the international terminal with a scrap of paper which read OSTROVA. Dasha's flight got in at 7am and she was feeling good despite leaving her new hat on the plane. We rented a car which we later christened Don Benz. Turns out I somehow rented a mini Mercedes instead of a Golf. He is a good drive even though the GPS cannot stick on to any surface besides the sunroof. Hrrm. We drove to Santiago de Compostela to pick up Melissa who had just walked for 15 days on the camino (a pilgrimage walk). I was exhausted but we made it safely. Melissa was staying at a gorgeous hotel but Dasha and I had to stay in a gorgeous hotel across the street. We had a lovely tour of mostly the old part of town and had a yummy dinner. I nearly fell asleep in my jamon but we pushed through.  Vino, octopus, enslada, jamon, queso, and mini fried peppers. Dang it was good. So was that nights sleep.

It was then time to lose an hour, change languages and drive to Portugal. Porto to be exact. We drove the long way and got lost in some coastal towns with breathtaking vistas. Portugal is instantly different from Spain. Shops are open more often, people work more, and the food isn't that impressive even though they have much more fruits and veg in their supremercados. Our first night in Porto we had a mission from Dasha, to find a Portuguese sandwich called a  Francesinha. Pulling from Wikipedia "a Francesinha (meaning a Little Frenchie or simply Frenchie in Portuguese) is a Portuguese sandwich originally from Porto, made with bread, wet-cured ham,linguica, fresh sausage like chipolata, steak or roast meat and covered with melted cheese and a hot thick tomato and beer sauce served with French fries." Sounds bomb, right? We were at the third most beautiful bookstore in the world and we asked the sweet worker there (whose main job was to say "no photos" in several languages) where to get dinner. We went to there. It was a tourist trap but it was too late. We had a terrible dinner. This place brewed their own beer and it was yucky. Dasha and Melissa got the Portuguese sandwich and they said it was the grossest  thing they had ever eaten. I had pasta with meat sauce and they surprisingly didn't screw it up. We followed dinner with filled churros which fell like a lump in our tummies. We swore we'd have a better night and not give up on Portugal yet. 

On our second day things went better. While Melissa went to the beach Dasha and I went on a walking tour of the city. It is a very hilly city. Sometimes more so than San Francisco. The tour guide was a sweet girl who recommended a place for a Francesinha. There were two accountant boys from SF who recommended a dinner place for us. Things were on the up and up. We even dodged a creeper guy who followed our tour group for much too long. Oh! I need to mention during out first night in Porto, while walking to the goss dinner, I fell on cobblestone and landed on my knee pretty hard. Going up and down the steep hills with a bum knee is a terrible idea. 

After a well executed siesta by Dasha we went to Agrade. She slept for almost three hours. Siesta is supposed to last 23 minutes. Dinner was down an alley then down another alley.  The food was great. I ate rabbit stew. Melissa had stewed meat (uncertain of which animal). Dasha had grilled cod. There was some salad and wine involved. Dessert too. And some homemade green wine which Melissa shot all three "sips." This dinner revived our faith in Portuguese food. We tried the Francesinha again. It is great on paper but isn't as good as you expect. Even after going to a highly recommended place by a trusted local. Plus it is a lump in your stomach for hours. I did not take the below photo but it is most representative of what we consumed.

 

Also, Portuguese is REALLY hard!! We knew one word and we used it for most everything despite it meaning thank you. Obrigada. May I please squeeze by you? Obrigada. Thanks for the check. Obrigada. How much for the fruit? Obrigada. You're cute. Obrigada. Obrigada? Obrigada. Eventually we learned out to say coffee with milk. Galao. Our most common phrase? "Un galao, obrigada". We still don't know how to say yes or no, even after three days in Portugal. 

Fun fact! A lot of the worlds cork for wine corks come from Portugal. /

OBRIGADA.