Ah Madrid, te quiero mucho!

Sevilla was wonderful, Cadiz was incredible but Madrid is my new love. I admit it, I'm a city girl.

I am sitting in Parque del Buen Retiro watching runners and bikers and people lunching. There is a yoga studio next to my hostal. I slept with my window open to listen to the futbol celebrations and woke up (admittedly a bit too early) to birds chirping.

The men are sexy! The women are sexy! Even the dogs are sexy. I have not gotten lost yet (knock on wood) and spent my morning wandering the botanical garden and then staring at Dali and Picasso words at Museo de Reina Sofia. People speak more English (which is not to say I'm copping out on my Spanish BUT it's nice to not always be confused and lost in translation).

My hostal is adorable and I was finally able to wash my underwear and a few items of clothing. I even wore a real dress out last night on my tapas tour.

Speaking of the tapas tour. It was a splurge, yes, but I needed to be around people and around a bit of English. It was actually a great time. I finally tried sherry (3 kinds), had an amazing red wine and ate dogfish and some squid like thing as well as lomo and, of course, olives. I also met Heather, the guide of the tour and she gave me her cell # to perhaps join her tonight or tomorrow night out in Madrid. Relief!

Don't worry, I still have plenty of time to wander on my own. Now I'm off to Plaza Puerta del Sol (Madrid's version if Times Square and, I believe, home to the gay pride celebration this Friday).

I am not Elizabeth Gilbert

Today marks 1 week since I left Philly and I woke up feeling sorry for myself. I was going to keep thoughts like this in a personal journal but if I make this blog all unicorns and rainbows that just wouldn't be true. So, as I sit here looking over Toledo while drinking multiple cups of coffee I will share my momentary misery.

I've always wanted to travel. I blame my parents for that. Dragging me from national park to national park was a start but leaving the North American continent has been something I constantly dreamed about. After being in school for 21 years straight, buying a house, getting married and divorced, I hadn't left much time for me. I never did the Peace Corp, I never studied abroad, I was always in a rush to get to the next point on my path.

I read the book "Eat, Pray, Love" (EPL) by Elizabeth Gilbert (EG), once years ago and again recently, and it spoke to me on many levels. From her realization that her marriage isn't working (but not being able to pinpoint the reason) to not being able to quiet her mind during yoga and meditation...I could relate. As I struggled with my career options (and temporary lack thereof) I just kept thinking "maybe I should take off on my own and find the world, and myself."

My brothers also inspired me - Evan for his ability to take risks and the travels he has done (and will do with me this fall) and Jason for what he would have done and would tell me to do. So...here I am.

I have never been particularly balanced although I recognize it and work on it daily. I can be too all or nothing. I obsess in my head (and sometimes out loud driving those closest to me insane I'm sure) over thoughts, fears, decisions until I annoy myself.

There was a part in EPL where EG is having a difficult time in her own head and a man passes her a note about how to "let go" of the past, how to acknowledge the bad with the good that creeps into your head and then release it. My yoga instructors say similar things - if you lose focus on your breath during practice, let the interfering thoughts in and then let them pass (geez I miss yoga). I, unfortunately, have a brick wall as an exit from my brain.

Before I left on this trip, as some of you know, I decided my challenge was to "let go." I almost got those words tattooed on my inner left wrist as a reminder. I still may.

I have been doing well so far I think. I've dealt with all sorts of language and social challenges and fears as I've already blogged about. I have set goals (i.e. to be ok eating alone or to speak more Spanish or to not let a day of bad timing put me in a bad mood) and I am working toward them. My enemy, as it is when I am home, is down time. After nonstop studying and working for my entire life, I do not know how to do nothing (double negative intended) and instead I fill the time with thinking and thinking and more thinking.

That is where I am today: stuck in my thoughts. Will I be ok in Madrid and Barcelona or will I be unsure of myself again? Will I get an interview for that job I randomly applied for before I left? How will it effect (or affect?) my travel plans with Evan if I do? I wonder why certain people have or have not contacted me and if some may forget me by the time I get home. Is this trip going to lead to the loss of friendships/relationships as has happened to me so frequently in the past even when I am no where far away?

Why am I lonely? (I miss Philly, I miss hugs and human contact, I miss laughing with people, I miss Rollie's hugs and kisses and Cruiser's old lady-cat way of affection, I miss girly gossip. Did I say I miss human contact?).

I can't wait to see Margeau in Paris and my parents in London/Amsterdam. Does that mean I am failing at being alone?
And just as I finish writing, the couple (I will let you guess where they are from) eating breakfast next to me decided to stage photos of themselves eating breakfast with the proper backdrop. Yes, I also drink coffee while doing a backbend over a balcony with a cathedral behind me. Haha!

Don't worry...next post will be back to fairies and pots of gold! ;)

Toledo (Spain, not Ohio)

I would like whoever made the map of Toledo that I used today (or just designed the street layout) to do the rest of Spain/Europe for me. Today I did not get lost!

Toledo is pretty and HILLY! I mostly wandered today. Saw the cathedral, ate lunch on the main square (Zocodover), saw the view down to the river. I took a nice long siesta in my air conditioned room. It is hot here. I swear there is no shade. It was so sunny that I was squinting with my sunglasses on! I also have a private bathroom at this hostel which allowed me to do things like wear a clay mask and pluck my eyebrows. Remember...this is "mature backpacking."

Tonight I made it through an entire dinner alone without panicking and without occupying myself with reading or my phone. This is big. I then had a whole conversation in Spanish with the waiter about my trip, philly, and the Brazil v. Chile game. I came back to the hostel early because the alley-like streets were pretty dark and dead and I'm sure I'll have plenty of excitement in Madrid starting tomorrow evening.

Speaking of my phone, I have made serious efforts not to touch it while sightseeing and to cut my communication down in general. Regarding turning it off, we'll see. I spend A LOT of time with myself right now and it's nice to have some contact with my alternate reality when it's not interfering with my exploration.

I'm looking forward to the included breakfast tomorrow a.m. and exploring Toledo's Jewish quarter before I hop the train back to Madrid.

On to the next one...

I'm sitting on the train from Sevilla to Madrid (then catching another train to Toledo for 1 night) listening to some Alicia Keys and staring out the window once again at fields and fields of sunflowers. I love trains (more than polka dots). It's hard to get a good pic when you're going over 200km/hr but I tried.

My last day/night en Sevilla turned out to be pretty great. After finally getting a good night sleep (for some reason I have no problem staying up til all hours and no problem waking up early leading to no sleep) I went for an excellent run along the river. Given how beautiful and clean most of Sevilla is I was surprised by the amount of trash and graffiti BUT I do live in Philly so I can't really judge I guess.

I was so proud that I made it to the river 1st try without a map. Unfortunately, the way back was not as smooth and included my being lost for about 30 mins literally around the corner from my hostel. Argh. Gotta work on that!

Sundays are dead in Sevilla (and I'm guessing all of Christian countries in Europe) so after touring the bullfighting ring, having my tapas lunch and successfully ordering 1 scoop of strawberry gelato in a cone en espanol I decided to just go chill in my room until the Argentina v Mexico game.

I was talking to Ernesto, "the world's greatest receptionist" as he calls himself (trying to convince Ernesto to go to Amsterdam a day earlier than he's planning to meet up with me), and up walks a woman asking if I was from North America and had a power converter. My 1st thought was "yes, but will she steal it." My next thought was "wait! Maybe she can come watch the game with me." So I lent her my converter and that's how I met Shannon from Toronto, Canada.

Shannon and I wandered out and found the first tapas bar that had the game playing. And sat for hours eating paella, baked goat cheese, olives and bread while we drank and chatted. Shannon just graduated law school and is about to start clerking and decided to travel on her own for 4 weeks through Spain and Portugal. It was excellent (or wicked as Shannon would say) to meet someone in a kind of similar place in life to me.

We tried to rescue some younger guys from a table of cougars. The guys spoke French (were from Montreal) and the cougars spoke Italian. It was excellent entertainment as was our waiter who kept forgetting what table ordered what food.

We then decided to go to Blues Bar to look for Pepe. Pepe was unfortunately not there but we met 3 guys from Argentina (Pablo, Pablo, y.....David (I really wish it was 3 Pablos)) who live in Mallorca and were in town for an AC/DC concert. One of the Pablos loved Shannon a bit too much so we moved on to a group of Americans (who I also hope meet up with me in Amsterdam) and some guys who lived down the street, including Anyelo the Cuban percussionist and chef with the dog named Konka. Fabulous night!

Thanks to Pepe I've been trying harder with my Spanish and thanks to Anyelo I spent 3 or 4 hours practicing. I might not be perfect but my confidence is building. I almost wish I could spend more than my 2.5 weeks here to truly immerse myself in the language.

I've also gotten a ton better at interjecting myself into groups or just talking to random people. Hopefully as I get to new cities and out of my Sevilla comfort zone I can keep it up and not regress.

Oh, and in the next 4-5 days I'm going to have to wash my underwear!

me encanta Cadiz

I'm going to keep this short and sweet (I hope) and let the pics speak for themselves. I was told by more than 1 person that I had to come to Cadiz (including Pepe the architect who drew me a map on a bar napkin) and immediately upon seeing the view as I exited the train station I agreed, it was a must visit.

I wandered into town and found a cute street with a cute cafe to have some coffee before making my way to el museo de cadiz (without getting lost!) which happens to sit on a fabulous tree-filled square. I spent some time there both practicing my Spanish comprehension and learning about the long amazing history of this peninsula. Many say that Cadiz was the first European city, dating back prior to the Phoenicians. The bulk of the buildings here now are from the 17th and 18th centuries and I had to restrain myself from taking way too many pictures.

After el museo I decided to walk the coast around the peninsula. The 1st pic in this entry was one of my 1st coastal views (on the north side) and I had a hard time tearing myself away.

I continued walking counterclockwise until I found a perfecly positioned cafe for lunch. The 2nd pic was my view while I drank my vino blanco and ate olives, gazpacho y una tosta con solomillo y dos quesos. Perfect lunch.

I continued my walk with a short side trip out to San Sebastian and some people watching (and rock collecting for my mom) at Playa de la Caleta. I brought my bathingsuit at Pepe's suggestion but decided to finish my loop before lounging around. Eventually I did make my way back to la playa, into my bathingsuit, and soon learned it was a topless beach. Ha!

Once I had enough sand pasted to my body I returned to the cathedral, got some ice cream, and just sat for a while enjoying the music, the people, and, of course, the cathedral (see pic #3). Before heading to the train station I took one last walk along the coast which produced picture #4 (and allowed me to see some boys catch and kill a massive fish - lovely).

Now I'm on the train back to Sevilla and trying to decide if I should shower and go out tonight or shower and chill so I can run along the river in Sevilla tomorrow morning. I'm leaning toward that run (and getting some sleep finally). I have 5.5 more weeks to party, right?

I'm also debating a challenge posed to me by Jim A. Jim does a significant amount of traveling alone and has suggested that I turn off my phone, all internet, and all communication with home (including blogging and twitter), with no exceptions, for 3 days.

I am getting more comfortable as the days go on and look at my ability to communicate more as fun and less as a security blanket. That being said, I'm considering trying this suggestion (but maybe for 24 hours and we'll see where I go from there) just out of a bit of curiosity to see how I handle it.

Maybe tomorrow, my last day in Sevilla, would be a good start?

My day of wrong directions and bad timing aka why I didn't see La Alhambra

I practiced letting go today. I'm not much of a quitter (yes, I quit my job but that's different...I'm talking about confronting challenges/problems/dilemmas). I try to solve everything, push everything as far as it will go, and have a hard time letting go when I haven't found the answer or success I'm looking for. The end result isn't always positive so, perhaps, I need to learn when to fold 'em. Today, I did all I could and it just wasn't in the cards for me. Luckily "failure" in beautiful Granada means sitting in a park, looking at snow capped mountains in the distance and listening to the birds.

As soon as I got to Sevilla I booked my train tickets for a day trip to Granada. The next step, preorder tix for La Alhambra. Unfortunately, the only time left for my day of choice was 7p.m. I knew it was cutting it close to my 8:48p.m return train but the woman on the phone assured me (en ingles) that I could see everything except the 1 palace before then and I would be able to do it all and make my train. (Note to self: next time, book attraction tix 1st, then train).

So I arrive in Granada with a map and bus information to get to the center. From the center I am supposed to get another bus to the Alhambra. I find the 1st bus, I get off the bus and find a complete lack of street signs and also not enough info on my map. The signs for tourist information led me in a circle (literally) for about 30 mins.

I was convinced I could figure it out, I always find my way, even after 1 or 2 wrong turns and I had plenty of time...no luck. I found a nice looking hotel. There I received a new map which still had no street names and looked like a cartoon. But she drew me my directions and I was off.

So I get where she told me I was going and still, I am lost. BUT I found a tourist info center! So I go in there and get a 3rd map with new, completely different directions, more cartoon like and less street names. At this point I'm thoroughly confused. I then wandered in the same 3 block area for another 30 mins (this has all taken over 2 hours at this point) before I FINALLY find the bus to the Alhambra. It was early but I figured I'd just get where I was going and relax.

I get there, get a bocadillo con jamon y queso y una cerveza. I eat, chill, see a taxi stand and I think "hmmm, if I can take a taxi to the train later I will not have to worry about getting lost with busses." Genius! I ask a taxi driver, en espanol, how many minutes to the train station and how much ot costs. I have a plan (and I'm speaking spanish successfully)!

I enter the monument and explore sloooooowly. I am still done everything by 4 except the 1 important part I can't enter until 7. So I sit in the shade, have some coffee, watch the stray cats, wander a bit more and it's only 5. Argh.

I then had an important thought. The Spain game is on tonight here at 8:30. If you know anything about the work ethic of most people here and put that together with their love of futbol...we have a problem! Who is going to be driving cabs at 8:15p.m? Haha! No one!

2 options: sit for 2 more hours, rush through the palaces, and then cross my fingers that I make my return train (the last of the night) OR skip the supposedly magnificent palaces, head back to the train station, see if I can maybe get an earlier train or at least know 100% that I will make mine.

I chose option 2. I got to the train station and found I had missed an earlier train to Sevilla by 20 minutes. Haha! It's ok...I can wander (in a straight path) and explore Granada a bit. Oh wait...it's siesta time. Haha!

So...I was annoyed and angry and overall disappointed. I didn't race back to the alhambra to get into the palace (although I thought about it). I didn't lose my mind. I let go. I found some helado, I found my bench, and I have only 1 more hour til my train (which I am guaranteed to make) where I can take a nice long nap (and not sleep on the streets of Granada tonight) and make my way to a flamenco bar when I get back to Sevilla.

Hopefully, my trip to Cadiz goes better tomorrow!

Spain is kind of gay, I think it's the sunflowers

I'm on my first train ride in Spain from Sevilla to Granada for the day. I love train travel, even in the states. It's fast, it's smooth, it's mostly stress free. (Yes, yes...jokesters: "that's what she said.") I did have my moment of stress this a.m. when I woke up at 6 instead of 530. Luckily I was showered and out the door in 20 mins, came upon a taxi stand, and made my train no problem. So now I'm looking out the window at field after field of sunflowers. I've seen corn fields (U.S.), I've seen flat grassy fields (Sweden), I've seen lava fields (Iceland) but this is new. In the middle of the rolling green and brown hills there is just yellow everywhere. Makes me wish I was getting to La Mancha to see the windmill fields (and sing a few songs about Don Quioxte (excuse my spelling) for my dad).
As you can see from my picture, even the train stops are beautiful. Pretty much Spain is just gorgeous.

Something weird happened to me today. I woke up and the words in my head were Spanish. As I type this I can feel my brain churning over and over and putting what it can into Spanish. Hopefully I'm going to start taking the words from my head and using them...fingers crossed.

I ate lunch by myself yesterday. I didn't panic, I didn't worry. I just sat on the sidewalk with my vino blanco, gazpacho (best I've ever had), and ensaladilla de atun y gambas. Perfecto :)

Dinner is still a challenge in my head so I made more friends last night. I saw 2 young women checking into my hostel and, after about 30 mins of debating whether it would be creepy to knock on their door, I went for it. Emily and Kana are from the Atlanta area and traveling Spain for a few weeks. They were nice enough to take pity on my lonely self and the 3 of us had dinner and stumbled across Sevilla's gay pride celebration.

I knew ahead of time that my stay in Madrid will be during its gay pride festival. Sevilla was a surprise. The drag queens ranged from "coulda fooled me" and immensely talented to "is that a dude with a full beard wearing a shiny purple dress?" So fabulous. Also fabulous was the jager shot via test tube out of a rather flamboyant man's mouth.

After stumbling into a summer solstice market, eating delicious tres chocolates cake and watching an incredible impromptu drum performance, we ended our night with €3 mojitos. Tonight...flamenco!

Estoy en el Alcazar Real

I survived my first solo night of traveling and have moved on to being a full fledged tourist. Today is Seville. As I write I am sitting in the shade in the Alcazar Real. It's an incredibly beautiful combination of ornate buildings/rooms and amazing gardens. I wish I could bottle all the scents here. I also wish someone would deliver me a bottle of water.

I also visited the cathedral and la giralda today. I've been to my share of religious buildings but this, for one, took my breath away as I walked in. The 34 story climb up la giralda took my breath away as well and gave me a lovely glow. At least I don't feel badly for not running this morning.

2 things I dislike about sevilla: sweat and cigarette smoke. The sweat is my own problem. I do it plenty back in Philly. But here I can sit still and sweat for no reason.

The smoke I encountered last night at the "Blues Bar" (don't be fooled, no blues were played but there were some beach boys, red hot chilli peppers, and other random american bands although no songs were post 1999). Yeah, so the smoke, I forgot what it's like to be in a bar or a club that allows smoking - eyes burning, clothes infusing smoke. Bleck. 5.5 more weeks of that?

I didn't think this traveling alone thing would be easy but that with a language that I understand well but barely speak is quite a challenge. Hopefully by the time I get to Italy, where I know none of the language, I will be an old pro.

(6 asian women just took over my little nook and started singing the waka waka world cup song. Wtf dude?)

Anyway, eating a meal alone is the part that gives me the most anxiety. I had to make 3 laps around the tapas restaurants last night before I finally chose one and was brave enough to sit down. I think this will be my biggest challenge. This a.m. I copped out and found a starbucks to enjoy a muffin and iced americano...sadly, it was a little piece of heaven.

I'm much better at striking up conversation with strangers in bars and that is how I met Pepe the architect from Cadiz last night. He spoke enough english to tell me everywhere to eat, drink and dance in Sevilla and filled in the details on my map. He did the same for my trip to Cadiz this Saturday, only for that he drew a map on a napkin. He was excellent company. I felt guilty that I couldn't get myself to speak Spanish even though I was thinking the words in my head. Luckily, for the times Pepe didn't know the english word or it was easier for him to speak in spanish, I understood enough that I could translate for him. He told me I should start speaking in Spanish so I can "brush off the dust" and also because it would be funny for him. (If you read this Pepe, thanks). Maybe I'll start today.

And I'm off! Have to finish the Alcazar and find my way to the river. I also might try to figure out where I plan to eat/drink tonight so I don't have to wander around in the dark. My 1st attempts at new locations aren't always stellar but once I find it I can always make my way back. Luckily I do not have my mom's (or Susan's) sense of direction.

Oh, and enjoy the bonus shot of my hostel room!

On my way

So here I am in Heathrow airport with another 1.5 hours until I fly to Spain (Barcelona and then another small plane to Sevilla). Figured it would be a good time to attempt a 2nd entry.

I managed to fit everything I think I need for 6 weeks in 2 carry-on bags: a backpack for the overhead compartment and a "tote bag" for under the seat in front of me. If you know me then you realize what an accomplishment this is for me. The tote has only my papers/books, travel documents, day bag, water bottle, medication, an assortment of earrings, camera, ipod, and my multitude of chargers.

In my carry-on sized backpack I fit the following items: 3 day dresses, 3 night dresses, 6 tanktops, 4 pairs of pants/shorts, undergarments, a bathingsuit and coverup, a hand towel, a rain jacket, 2 running outfits, 2 yoga outfits, 4 pairs of socks, running sneakers, 1 nice pair of sandals, 1 comfy pair of sandals, 1 pair of Toms shoes, and my toiletries, most of which are less than 3oz and squeezed engineer-style into a quart-size ziploc. Thank goodness for short hair!

Speaking of short hair, I did decide to chop it off. I'm still getting used to my missing curls and the "oh, so you like girls now?" jokes but you can't beat the convenience. BTW, I don't have a problem with girls liking girls (although I personally have preferred boys (and now adult men and some good "SI" **that's for Susan and Kiran**) since that time in nursery school when I had 3 boyfriends: the neighbor, the pattycake-er, and the one who tried to peep on me in the bathroom). I just don't appreciate being defined by my haircut or being made to feel like less of a woman without my flowing locks. Honestly, there have been moments in the past 5 days of short hair where I felt sexier than ever and I'm just going to hold onto those (and keep wearing lots of earrings and barrettes :-P).

Also, to clarify, don't worry, I packed 6 travel packs of woolite so I can do a handwash now and then. I may have packed light but I don't intend to smell like it!

I watched a sappy movie on the plane which pulled up a bunch of thoughts about why I'm taking this adventure and who/what I'm leaving behind. I have moments of doubt where I panic that I am going to fall behind professionally. Can I get the non-profit public policy job I dream of? Will I make a career change all together and chase the old dreams I had before I dropped college chemistry freshman year at Penn? But then I realize that the right opportunity will come along when I'm ready for it. It always does.

And then, the personal side. Luckily I have email and bbm on this trip so I can stay in touch for the most part. It still makes me a little sad to think about the experiences I will miss. Sure, I'll probably have an amazing time here but sometimes nothing beats hours of drinks, jokes and conversations around my dining room table with the friends/people I love.

And love...well, my dad gave me a nice lecture about "settling down" a few days ago. Maybe this time by myself will help me figure out how to do that. Apparently, according to my dad, I'm not getting any younger.

When I told the woman sitting next to me on the plane that I quit my job, planned a 6 week trip where I will be mostly by myself (except for a week with my parents and a week with Margeau), and chopped my hair off and it's all made me wonder if perhaps I have a brain tumor she said, "No, I'm guessing you'll be turning 30 soon. That's when it happens."

here we go...

well, i've been putting off this first entry because i'm not quite sure how to "blog" and i'm slightly nervous that my ramblings are not going to be all that exciting (or gramatically correct). nevertheless, here goes...

in case anyone reads this who doesn't know me, all you need to know is this: i'm a lawyer, i briefly lost my path toward public interest/service/policy work and, after waking up one day and realizing that the legal work i was doing was not what i wanted my career to be and then spending about one year searching endlessly for THE job in a horrible economy filled with free deferred law firm associates, i decided to shake things up. after 29 years of running high speed toward personal and professional goals, i put on the brakes and quit my job to "live the dream" (at least that is what everyone i tell my crazy plan to tells me i am doing) and figure i should probably write about it.

so...first up is 6 weeks in europe. i'm doing what i like to call a mature backpacking trip. i'm not going to fly by the seat of my pants and crash in dorm style hostels because, to be completely honest, i'm too old for that. (evan, if you read this, don't worry...i'm completely prepared for hostels, camping, and whatever comes our way in NZ and Aus. you told me not to be one of those solo travelers sitting alone at cafes reading travel guides so a little planning was needed here).

also, as a woman traveling mostly alone, i feel a little safer having at least a room of my own on each of my stops. i'm doing a lot of shared bathrooms though. if you know me and my bathroom germ phobia you might question my ability to handle that. let me assure you, i've confronted my fears and i'm ready (although don't quote me on this if a later post rants about filthy restrooms..i reserve the right to be skeeved out).

this so-called mature backpacking trip is taking A LOT of planning. basically since my last day of work 2 weeks ago i've been as busy learning and organizing as i was 4 years ago studying for the bar exam. i even typed out my itinerary in table form and spent over an hour estimating the total cost of my trip, the estimated cost of my train travel, and whether a eurail pass is a ripoff (the answer, for me, is yes). and let's not forget the actual purchase of a backpack, travel appropriate clothes/shoes (read: durable and easy to handwash while retaining a bit of style), and various necessities. the cats have been a big help with all of this.

in the less than 2 weeks i have left until i leave i have to: figure out how to freeze my US life for 6 weeks, make sure all my bills get paid, deliver my car to my parents' house in NH so she doesn't die on the philly streets while i'm gone, strategically plan how to pack everything i need into my backpack (this is probably going to be my greatest challenge), take care of a million other little things not even remotely worth mentioning AND, perhaps most pressing, i have to make the final decision regarding the chopping off of my hair....what do you think?

me vs. posh spice: