Cairo

In case anyone other than my mom was worried about me arriving in Cairo at 3 AM... I made it here safely! And had a good night's sleep.

Oh my God, I'm in Cairo.

It turns out:

1. A white girl can walk around alone in a baggy tshirt and long baggy shorts without getting harassed.
2. There are about 20 horns honking on any street at any given time. Not sure if there are traffic laws or what.
3. I don't actually know Arabic.
4. I don't really know how to get back to where I'm staying from where I am, so I'm going to have to try busting out the Arabic at some point.

Wish me luck!

Madrid

I´m back in Madrid for one night after a weekend in Venice! Tomorrow I spend the whole day flying to Cairo. It´s not that far from Madrid, but I somehow booked myself a trip with a SEVEN hour layover in Athens. I have a backlog of things to blog about:

Madrid
Venice
The Quest for an Ipod Shuffle Charger

I´ll start with Madrid for now. The thing about Madrid is that I don´t have a ton to say about it because I really really liked it. I´m also very tired, which means I have even less to say. So, um... here is a list of things I like about Madrid:

1. It´s not all that touristy compared to Barcelona...
2. ...but there are still a lot of cool things to see as a tourist, like the Prado!
3. The Metro runs really frequently and seems clean...
4. ...but I also didn´t have any trouble walking pretty much everywhere I wanted to go.
5. There are tons of cute bookstores, and they even sell books in English!
6. The food is really good. One night, Josh got bull´s tail and it was amazingly tasty. Another night we went to this tapas place where we ordered 12 different pieces of french bread covered in... stuff... and each of them were good. I´m not sure what we were eating though. Imagine, like, seafood salad, or cream cheese, or something like that.
7. There are also like 1000 places to sit outside in a plaza and drink a beer.
8. In the summer it gets dark at like 10 PM. Yay for being really far west in the time zone.
9. That means the stores and museums and stuff are open until like 8 or 9!

However, in the interest of fairness, here are some things that happened in Madrid that were less cool:

1. Josh and I agreed to meet in the Prado at the entrance at 8 PM, when it closed. But I couldn´t find my way back to the entrance on time and got physically escorted out of the building by a security guard! I tried to explain that I wasn´t exiting because I had to meet my friend at the other side of the building, but the only word in that sentence I knew in Spanish was amigo, so I just kind of said amigo and flailed my arms around. She wasn´t convinced. I ran around to the front of the building, where Josh was inside, looking around exasperatedly. Luckily I got his attention by jumping up and down, and disaster was averted!

2. Then, we ate dinner at what our guidebook claimed was a favorite of the king. I went to the bathroom and was walked in on by a very well-dressed woman because the lock didn´t quite work right. We were both very embarassed. I´m going to pretend she was royalty because that makes it sound cooler :o)

Actually, getting walked in on in the bathroom by royalty can go on the list of cool things about Madrid, so this isn´t a very long list at all.

Finally, here is one weird fact about Spain:

1. They are REALLY into KFC here. They are all over the place. Way more prevalent than anywhere in the US I can think of. I found this more amusing than Josh did.

More about Barcelona

Josh and I are in Madrid! I´m a big fan of Madrid so far, even though the policeman outside city hall would not let me wear his hat. The vibe is so chill that everyone takes a nap in the middle of the day. For serious. You can´t even buy stamps or an ice cream cone or something.

I don´t have a lot of internet time left, so I´m going to quickly set the record straight about the ancient synagogue in Barcelona. I´m not sure why it was closed on Sunday, but we tried again on Monday and it was open and supercool. The actual story is that a businessman bought the property to open a bar or restaurant and discovered that there was a synagogue underneath it. So now you can visit the site while they try to figure out what to do with it next.

Also on Monday, Josh and I toured several buildings designed by Gaudi, a funky architect from the turn of the century who didn´t like straight lines very much. The first house of his we toured has basically the funniest audio tour ever, making grandiose statements such as:

"The most original fireplace ever created"
"The most extravagant room you´ve ever been in"
"An infinite number of shades of blue"
"A genius...who recycled 100 years ahead of its time"

(that last one was about reusing tiles from previous buildings)

The second house we visited had a video demonstrating how to use the door handles he designed that was downright pornographic. I don´t think I can possibly do it justice in prose. But I will never look at a doorhandle the same way again. Mmmmm.

Out of time! I´ll write about Madrid soon.

God hates skirts

So Josh and I borrowed a guidebook to Barcelona from Andrei´s house on our way out. The problem with the guidebook is that it´s in French, which neither of us really know. So far not being able to read the guidebook carefully has only caused one problem.

One of the exciting things for tourists to see in Barcelona is the huge Gothic cathedral in the Barri Gotic. Since it´s a Catholic church, I thought it would be fun to go to Mass today. Wanting to be more respectful than usual, I decided to wear a dress instead of jeans. Specifically this one .

I think it´s a reasonably classy dress given the constraints of being a backpacker.

The security guard (!!) stopped me at the door and pointed to a graphic that had a woman with a short skirt crossed out and another woman with a long skirt, not crossed out. ¨"No minis," he said. Josh tried to argue that my skirt wasn´t really a mini, but this guy meant business. He was turning away women young and old whose skirts were above the knee. Apparently, God doesn´t like my knees. Or anyone else´s.

We did eventually make it to Mass in the evening after I changed into jeans. I feel my dress was more respectful than my jeans and tshirt but whatever.

Oddly enough, later in the day Josh wanted to visit the old synagogue. We looked all around and finally found ourselves standing with two French dudes in front of the site where we all thought it would be. Here, the guidebook did come in handy! They read the entry for the synagogue and determined that it was in the process of being converted into a restaurant? I was a little shaky on the details but the point was that we couldn´t go inside.

In any event, Josh and I are having a great time in Barcelona despite BOTH having been denied entry to our respective houses of worship.

Barcelona!

Yesterday Carolin went back home to Paris :o( and Andrei drove Josh and me to Barcelona! I am going to try to write about as many things as possible before Josh finishes emailing people. Here goes:

1. One of the things Josh and I were most excited about doing in Barcelona is eating tapas. We just did! Barcelona is weird because we had lunch at 4 PM and apparently that´s okay here. Oh well. The best part of the experience was the following conversation:

Josh: (something in Spanish about a table for two)
Dude sitting in front of restaurant: I don´t speak Spanish!
Me: Yay! Me neither!
Josh: Oh, okay. A table for 2 please.
Dude sitting in front of restaurant: No, I don´t work here either!
Josh: Huh?
All of dudes friends: (laughter and excitement)
Dude: (takes picture of Josh)

2. The Barcelona Museum of Contemporary Art is one of the key tourist attractions in Barcelona. And it´s closed ALL MONTH. Lame. We saw a funky temporary art exhibit by a pair of Lithuanian protest artists though. The best piece incorporated a theremin. Awesome!

3. Yesterday we stopped at a gas station to ask directions and I decide to take the opportunity to go to the bathroom. The gas station had a men´s room and a handicapped room but no women´s room. What would you do in that situation? I decided to chose the men´s room because I figured I´d feel terrible if someone in a wheelchair were waiting to use the restroom and I came out, whereas I wouldn´t really feel bad if I encountered a man using the urinal. As it happened I encountered neither.

4. On Wednesday we went on an incredible hike through the mountains to a neighboring village that featured a medieval castle as well as delicious lunch. The best part of the hike was that we made a wrong turn despite being given very clear directions and ended up wandering around on some farm for a while. It took us longer to get to the village than we had anticipated, but we did get to feast on some fresh cherries stolen from the farmer whose farm we were trampling. Sorry, farmer!

Okay, time to go!

Languages I don't know

I don't know French at all, but I try to keep up the charade for as long as possible. This results in conversations like the time I wandered into a pizza place to get a bottle of water yesterday:

Me: Bonjour!
Pizza Dudes: Bonjour
Me: (look of abject terror and confusion)
Pizza Dudes: (quizzical looks)
Me: (more terror)
My brain: SAY SOMETHING
Me (to brain): I don't know the word for "may I please have some water"
My brain: JUST SAY WATER YOU DONT NEED PROPER CONJUGATION
Me (to brain): I don't know the word for water!
Pizza Dudes: (increasingly quizzical looks)
My brain: OKAY DIET COKE IS THE SAME IN EVERY LANGUAGE SAY THAT
Me: Okay fine guys I don't speak French but do you have any Diet Coke?
Pizza Dude 1: Eh?
My brain: THAT WAS TOO MUCH ENGLISH TOO FAST
Me: Diet coke?
Pizza Dude 1: Eh?
Me: Coke light?
Pizza Dude 1: To go?
My brain: I KNOW HOW TO ANSWER THAT IN FRENCH
Me: Oui!
Pizza Dude 1: Outside!

The Coke light turned out to be 2 Euro so I ended up with nothing. Oh well. It was good to practice my two French words.

France, Day 1

So basically all I had to accomplish in the entire day yesterday was getting myself from Dublin at 7:30 AM to Andrei's house in the south of France by 7:30 PM. As you can imagine, this was fraught with disaster.

The first goal was to get to the train station in Paris in time to catch a 1:16 PM train with Josh and Carolin. Since my flight from Dublin was supposed to arrive at 9:45 AM, this did not seem particularly challenging. I was very worried about making my connection in Dublin, but it turns out the thing I should have actually been worried about is whether the air traffic controllers in Paris would strike. Because they did! That meant only one plane could land at a time or something, so our flight was delayed for like 2 hours.

That's okay, I thought. If I can get through customs quickly (I did) and get my bag with no issues (I did) I can leave the airport by 12:15ish (I could have), and surely I have at least a fighting chance of getting to the train station in 45 minutes.

But I didn't count on all the signs being in French!

So I had to spend 10 minutes running around the airport like a crazy person looking for signs to a word or picture that might mean subway (didn't find any. maybe because I don't know any French.), and then I asked the information guy how I should go to the train station. It turned out there was a bus straight there. Yay!

But the bus didn't actually go straight there. First it had to stop at every other section of the airport. So I missed the train. I think I even missed the next train. And I saw no sign of Josh or Carolin in the part of the train station I thought I was supposed to meet them (although this was probably my fault because once again all the signs were in French).

After looking for them for a while, I decided to hang out at the station for 2 hours and then catch the next train to Avignon alone and then...walk around? I didn't really figure out that part of the plan because I really had to pee.

Unlike in other train stations I have peed in, peeing in the train station in Paris is not free. It costs 50 cents! In American money, that's like, close to a dollar! And yet, the rest of the train station doesn't smell like urine. It's incredible.

I, for one, decided to get my money's worth! So I spent about 15 minutes in the bathroom changing my clothes and freshening up and reorganizing my bag and hiding my passport and brushing my teeth and rehiding my passport and then some people started knocking on my door and yelling at me in French so I decided it was time to leave.

I didn't find Josh and Carolin in the bathroom but I did find them in a whole other wing of the train station I didn't find the first time. Yay! And the strike (which affected trains as well as planes) meant that we could use the tickets we had bought for the 1:16 train for a later train. Yay again!

The train ride did not really involve disaster. Although we couldn't all sit together. But that was okay because I used the opportunity to take a nap.

Then we arrived in Avignon and tried to rent a car. In the time it took us to rent a car (approximately 45 minutes) the weather changed from bright, sunny, and warm to dark, stormy, and cold. I was kind of okay with this in theory because I was really grungy from spending a night on a plane and I wasn't going to have time to take a shower before dinner at this point, so I was excited to get caught in a torrential downpour. I don't think anyone else was.

We decided to sprint to the car. In the time it took us to sprint from the car rental building to the car, we forgot which car was ours! So we sprinted from car to car until we found the one that opened. Then we couldn't figure out how to unlock it. At this point it actually started hailing. There are two key differences between hail and rain:

1. Hail hurts
2. Hail does not improve your scent

Getting caught in a storm no longer seemed like a good idea.

Once we got into the car, it became evident that someone had overstated his ability to drive a stick shift. I'm not going to point any fingers because I can't drive stick shift at all. But I will say the ride from the parking spot to the gate was longer and bumpier than usual.

The gate... didn't work. At first we thought it was because the card we needed to insert to lift it had gotten too wet. Carolin volunteered to brave the rainstorm again and go get another one (since driving there would have taken about 10 minutes). That didn't do the trick, so we tried to lift the gate ourselves. That also didn't work, so we smashed through it!

Just kidding. We had to wait for someone from the rental car agency to let us out. By this point it was already almost 7:30.

Luckily, we made it to Andrei's place without further disaster. Or after 150 disasters, depending on whether you count every time the car stalled as a disaster. And our reward was an incredible dinner at a tiny restaurant that included a dish that basically changed my entire perspective on pork (although, to be fair, most of my previous exposure to pork involved Shake n Bake). I think one day in the south of France may have cured me of my Bay Area food snobbery. Hooray for that.