Morning Musings (An Organizational Rant)

It's been so hot I've had a hard time sleeping lately. I woke up around 5 am this morning and saw golden light on my walls coming from the window, and I looked out and saw this. I don't think I've ever been so happy to see 5 am.

 

Look at it reflecting off the river!

So anyway, living in this unairconiditioned box, in combination with essentially living for an additional seven weeks out of the suitcase I packed for two weeks, has got me thinking a lot about things I need and things I don't. Apparently I can get by without air conditioning. I guess I can also get by without solid nights of sleep (at least so far). Yes, I've been wearing the same six shirts for the last month and a half. And yes, the only three pairs of pants I've had to wear basically since I left for Spain in August really do need replacing now; they get worn out a lot faster when you have less options. And not a day has gone by that I have not rued sending my other pair of shorts home, thinking, "I don't need two pairs of shorts for two weeks in Europe." My God I need to buy another pair of shorts. But apparently I don't need a lot of the clothes I know I've got sitting in drawers at home. And I don't know what all that stuff in my desk is that I haven't really seen since last summer, but I hope that when I get home I will remember I got by without it for a year and probably don't need it anymore.

I'm sure some of this attitude comes from my mom, the home organizer. And some of it comes from being a type-A neat freak (thanks for that, too, Mom), but I've still always had a lot of stuff. It's just been well-organized stuff. And now I don't want so much of it. Some things have been a little complicated since I ended up with an unexpected six weeks in New York, but mostly things are a lot simpler with only a carry on's worth of belongings. Now, don't get too excited Mom, I think part of why I'm so comfortable in this room I'm living in is because it has two bookcases packed to the gills with books, and though I go through my collection once or twice a year and always find a couple things to toss, we all know I have a harder time parting with books than with anything else.

Do you know how weird it is to be reading library copies of Harry Potter books? This may be a first.

I really am trying to think of what all the stuff in my very full room is. I have fifteen years of dance costumes in my closet, most of which I'm going to get rid of. I'm trying to sell my American Girl dolls that I have held onto for ten years even though I only ever wanted one (which I bought myself) so that I could do its hair. I finally decided to try to sell my flute that I played in junior high and then only a handful of times in the seven years since. Before I started college I condensed all my grade school crap into a single cardboard box.

There is a nagging feeling growing inside me that a lot of the random things cluttering my room are bits of my collection of Harry Potter memorabilia, which I can say from 800 miles away I won't part with. I mean, my eighteen Harry Potter books alone (not counting Tales of Beedle the Bard or Quidditch Through the Ages/Magical Beasts and Where to Find Them) take up plenty of space. And space, if you didn't know, is something of a scorching commodity in New York. It's a hotter than this weather we've been having, and that's saying something.

So, we've established Potter is important. My photos and scrapbooks are important. Minimal clothing is important. The books stay. But eventually I've got to haul all this stuff across half the country, so most of the rest of it has got to go. (I can already feel this whole thing coming back to haunt me in a few weeks when I get home.)

Join me, friends! You know you've got a drawer where you throw the junk you don't know what to do with and plan to go through "at some point." Which is never. Believe it or not, I have one of those drawers. I do. And the only thing I can promise you is in it is some Harry Potter calendars from 2002. (I'm not kidding.) Don't think of it as summer cleaning, think of it as lightening up your life! Even in Europe I got tired of lugging the suitcase around. I think I wore all but two things that I had packed, and yet I still didn't want to be dragging around as much stuff as I had. So I definitely want to get rid of the excess in my life before I have to pack it into the back of an SUV and probably inevitably haul it up a narrow staircase while my mom reminds me this is the fourth time she's helped me move into a New York apartment.

And I promise you don't need all those school papers you're keeping. Just stop it. It's taking up so much space, and it's utterly useless. I gave my brother my calculus notes years ago and threw the rest away, with the exception of things I wrote. And don't keep those readings you never read that you think you will later because you want to be well-read and intellectual. Maybe that was just something I did but we'll pretend it's not. You haven't read them yet. You're not going to. And if it was given to you to read in a class, I would bet you could find it in a book or maybe even on the internet if you're suddenly possessed with the urge to read The Prince or something.

I care about skylines and pink heavens at five am and having a comfortable bed and being surrounded by books. And I care way more about my family and friends than anything. And, okay, I take an unreasonable amount of pride in the absurdity of my collection of utterly useless Harry Potter things. But part of what studying abroad did, and graduating did, and living on my own with all this free time has done, is help me figure out who I am, at least for now, and I am not all that stuff. Because I've been me for the last ten months without it. Out with the old. In with (less) new.

And the best thing about that sky? It takes up all the space in the world, but no space at all in my room. :)

The "I Just Got Out of Theatre School and Don't Understand Free Time" Guide to Avoiding Boredom

And what does a recently-graduated, barely-employed, almost-resident of New York City do with herself? (Anybody who knows me keeps asking me what on earth I'm doing with myself all day.) Thusly I present to you:

The "I Just Got Out of Theatre School and Don't Understand Free Time" Guide to Avoiding Boredom

1. First of all don't you dare be bored in NYC. People are only bored if they're boring. Don't be boring.
2. When was the last time you read Harry Potter? It wasn't recently enough. (I read the whole series every June, NO SHAME.)
3. Go see FREE outdoor theatre. The New York Times kindly posted this article with a list of tons of free theatre to see this summer. You could see a show or two a week all summer without paying a dime. I'm personally looking forward to the Pearl Jam Hamlet that will hopefully be a spectacular disaster.
4. Write a play! Try it. It's a great thing to do by yourself. David Bowie just showed up in my play. I think he's the fairy godmother.
5. Try to "tan" in a park. Lots of parks. Read Harry Potter in the park. There are so many parks. New parts of the High Line are open! Go there! I did, today!
6. Make funny pandora stations. I found out that if I just add Motley Crue to my David Bowie station, pandora will basically play all of the music I would normally listen to, which maybe defeats the purpose of listening to pandora.
7. Remember that play you're writing? Does it require research? Probably! I'm obsessed with Cold War Berlin so my play is set in Berlin in 1975. I'm pretty sure reading Your Pretty Face is Going to Hell: The Dangerous Glitter of David Bowie, Iggy Pop, and Lou Reed counts as research since Bowie was in Berlin then and he's in my play. But I'm reading In the Garden of Beasts by Erik Larson, too.
8. Learn a new language! I'm learning French for free using Duo Lingo. I'm also keeping up my Spanish skills that way. Woo. Too bad they haven't taught me how to say "I am learning French" in French. Um... Estoy aprendiendo francais! Culture.
9. Jump on any random money-making opportunity, such as being one of approximately three women working at a gay pride party attended by no less than 1,000 gay men and a few women. (Yes, I did that. It was hilarious.)
10. You still haven't gotten hooked on Mad Men and Breaking Bad yet? Get on that. They're on netflix. Yes, fine, you can rewatch all of Weeds first. The new season does start July 1...
11. Write in a blog a lot. Oh and make a list of the things you do so you can feel accomplished and share it with other people.

That covers most of it... Plus working sometimes, hanging out with friends sometimes, talking to my family sometimes. And, you know, reestablishing my credit cards and bank account nonsense. Having access to cash is nice. Depositing checks is nice.

Oh and obsessively checking the weather to strategically open and close my windows in my non-air-conditioned apartment. You didn't like that mid-90s high-humidity last week? Yeah try doing it without air conditioning. Uh huh.

Gonna go back to Prisoner of Azkaban now. :)

Stepford Island

So then what happened?

Did I tell you that the day after I got to London my friend introduced me to a friend of hers who was looking for a subletter? Did I even mention that when I was packing during graduation week I had to sort my things into stuff staying in NYC, stuff going home, stuff going to Europe, and stuff going to New Jersey? Yeah, that's right. Try sorting your belongings into four locations while graduating from college and trying to host your family and preparing for two weeks of travel.

Aaaanyway. So I skyped with this girl from Kerry's apartment and it seemed like a good deal - the place was in Astoria, with other theatre people, and since she was leaving all her stuff, she was only going to charge me half of her rent, making the place really cheap, and the timing was right. Great!

We got back from Paris, left JFK, and began the ridiculous public transit trek (requiring two trains and a bus, not including the airtrain from the airport to the subway) and finally got to my new home for the next six weeks. We were looking forward to putting our stuff down, maybe showering, taking a nap. I was looking forward to not having to pack and unpack every few days for the next six weeks.

Suitcases hauled upstairs, unlocked the door, got inside. The place was filthy. I tried to be positive about it, but after sitting in the living room (on the trunk that they used as a coffee table, because I wouldn't sit on the couch), I decided I couldn't live there. I didn't want to be paying money to basically sit on a loft bed for six weeks. So Mom called my aunt in New Jersey, and we ran away via one more subway train and a NJ transit train.

Let's take a look at this picture: Lindsay has no driver's license, no debit card, no credit card, and no address to which to have new ones sent. Lindsay had already called to have a new debit card sent to the Astoria apartment, which she now has to cancel, since she doesn't think the roommates she abandoned are likely to want to send it to her, and she wouldn't know where to have it sent anyway. Yes, life feels like crap.

Mom changed her flight (for free, yay southwest!) so that she could stay and help me figure things out for a few days. I decided to try one more sublet option I remembered at the last minute and decided if that didn't work, I was giving up and going home to Chicago until further notice.

The sublet was on Roosevelt Island. Don't worry, no one knows where that is, I didn't either - it's a teeny island between Manhattan in the 60s and Queens, only two miles long and less than a quarter of a mile wide. The Queensboro Bridge goes right over it. I found this place thanks to a friend placing an ad in the Playwrights digest - our weekly-ish e-newsletter with announcements of performances, auditions, sublets, etc. She said "price negotiable," and I wrote her with the upper end of my budget, sure it was too low, since her place sounded so nice, but she said the people who had offered her more money were strangers, so I was in luck.

I was anxious to go look at it that day (Wednesday), but the timing didn't work. Turns out I couldn't really go until Saturday. So I spent the next couple days trying to relax in suburban New Jersey, hoping I'd be able to start putting things back in order over the weekend. I even got to see my nine-year-old cousin's third grade play about New Jersey. It was awesome. Friday night I was scheduled to work in the city, so I took the train in and then spent the night with friends in Brooklyn, since I didn't get off until 12:30.

Saturday morning I made my way to Roosevelt Island, which has a stop on the F train. (You learn something new every day). The apartment was great and the best part, to me, was the view of the Empire State and Chrysler Buildings from the living room window. It was a definite yes. We made plans for me to stay the next night, Sunday, with her leaving Monday, and then I left, the happiest I'd been in days.

In the afternoon I met up with my favorite NYU professor, Bob, who I sometimes have coffee with, and we had a celebratory brunch at Le Pain Quotidien, with mimosas, since we were feeling exuberant, I guess. We spent some time catching up on graduation and everything going on in his life - we can always talk for hours - and then went our separate ways as Bob was meeting guests later and had to get ready.

I then walked uptown to meet back up with my aunt, uncle, two cousins, and two of their friends. My other cousin was celebrating his twelfth birthday (even though his birthday is the day before mine) with an overnight in the city. My aunt has had an apartment in the Gramercy area for a long time, a place I have been fortunate enough to stay at on several NYC trips before moving here, and they were all staying in the city for the night.

We went to the spy exhibit at the discovery center in Times Square - God bless my aunt and uncle for chaperoning three twelve year olds and a nine year old in New York City - via subway. The adults thought the exhibit was really interesting, with lots of McCarthy-era technology, but it required far more reading than the boys were really interested in, so we moved through pretty quickly. With so much time to spare we went to Toys R Us and the boys rode the ferris wheel. I didn't even know there was a ferris wheel in Toys R Us, I'd never been in there. And I don't need to go again.

After Toys R Us we headed back down to Union Square - they to go to Max Brenner's for dinner, I to go to work just a few blocks away. After work I went back to the apartment, conveniently close, and then on Sunday morning we all went out for breakfast at Big Daddy's, one of their favorite places.

My plan then was to head out to Roosevelt Island (my suitcase having been brought in the car with everyone and stored in the apartment), but we realized the bag of all the toiletries I'd bought at a Target in NJ - much cheaper than anywhere in the city, of course - had been left back home. So we left my suitcase with the doorman and I rode with everyone back to New Jersey.

Then the rainstorm came. There was huge thunder and lightning, and I decided I didn't want to travel and lug my suitcase all over New York in that weather. So I contacted my friend, told her I'd meet her the next day to pick up the keys, and spent one more night - Tony night! - in New Jersey.

Late Monday morning I finally took one last train into the city. I met up with Ryann, my subletter, at Playwrights to get the keys, walked up to the apartment to pick up my suitcase, and then took two trains to get to my new home. Exhausted but happy, I unpacked, which took about five minutes, as I only had one suitcase, and then enjoyed staying in one place for a while.

The apartment is amazing, with a big kitchen and big living room. I have my own room, which I think is bigger than my bedroom at home, with a half bath attached. From my window I can see bits of Manhattan and Queens, as well as an outdoor theatre directly below me. There's a Shakespeare play going on there this month, and someone I know happens to be in it.

Roosevelt Island is weird though. It's like a small suburb in the middle of New York City. It has a tiny branch of the public library - the size of a one room school house and carrying exactly ZERO Harry Potter books. There is one school and one high school. There is a post office. There is a police station. There is a grocery store. There are I think two churches. There is a bus that goes around the island that costs 25 cents. There is a starbucks and a duane reade. There are two hospitals, a park, a baseball field, a basketball court, a youth center. There are a few restaurants, a thrift shop, things like that. Most of the people who live here are either young families or older people, because of the hospitals - lots of people in wheelchairs. So really. It's like a suburb but condensed into less than one square mile, so it's apartment buildings instead of houses. The apartments are nice but the buildings and the hallways are all very industrial. It's weird. It's beautiful, there's lots of trees and lots of water, but I think it's too quiet. I'm enjoying it for now, like a six week vacation, but I guess it's okay that I can't really afford to live here.

Still... I'll miss this view.

Fin (Days 15 & 16)

Our last day in Paris was a rainy one and we were pretty exhausted so we had already decided we would spend the day in the neighborhood. Both of us felt we'd done all we wanted to do in Paris for this trip, so we had a leisurely morning repacking and having breakfast, then walked around near the hostel. Le Village hostel is in an area with lots of fabric shops, which really interested Mom, so we spent some time looking at fabric and then went souvenir shopping.

Fortunately we really hadn't bought much more than postcards anywhere else (with a couple exceptions from the Harry Potter studio tour), so we knew how much space we had for extra stuff. We got a few presents for family and a few things for ourselves - I hadn't bought anything the last time I was in Paris, and I hadn't started my shot glass collection yet when I was there, so I bought one and a few other things.

As we were heading back to the hostel we passed Le Petit Musee du Chocolat - a chocolate store that could give Honeydukes a run for its money - so we spent some time exploring it. There were lots of colorful sculptures made entirely out of chocolate, including a scale model of the Eiffel Tower. It was a fun little thing to do before we left, and we managed to not buy anything, which was good since traveling with chocolate is not the best idea.

Back at the hostel we ate a small lunch of whatever leftovers we had from various meal purchases - a little Chinese food, some fruit, some cheese and bread. Then before we left I ran up the street to Subway to get us food for later, since we figured we didn't want to have to eat dinner in the hotel restaurant. (We were staying at the airport hotel for the night since our flight was pretty early the next morning.) We walked to the train station where we would take a train out to the airport and then catch the hotel shuttle back to the hotel.

But our adventures weren't over.

While waiting in line to purchase our train tickets, we spotted a guy with an adorable puppy. Turned out he was American and was homeless because his roommate didn't like the dog, so he asked if we were leaving Europe and had any coins to spare (since banks won't convert coins, just paper money, even if it's 2 euros). After we purchased our tickets we had a 2 euro coin to give him and as we were playing with the puppy he mentioned that he cut hair and asked if he could give me a haircut. I kid you not. As it had been two months since my last haircut and was going to be about another two months before my next one, this was perfect. He did it right in the station, on a platform. We got lots of stares, but apparently he does this all the time. He's the hair cowboy. Google him. It's for real. He's kind of famous:

So I got my hair cut in Paris, in the train station. His puppy, Nanook, was tied up over by our stuff where my mom was patiently waiting, but he quickly got free and ran over to us. So then it became my job to stand on his leash and keep him from eating my boots while also trying to stand still as Kanu cut my hair. Ultimately it worked out great. I got a haircut, I got it for way less than I could ever get it cut in NYC, he got some money. We got to meet a cool guy and an adorable puppy, and it's a great story to tell.

Kanu and Nanook walked us back to where we would get our train and we parted ways. We were able to catch a train right away to the airport, an express train that got us there in half an hour at that. Then as soon as we got up to where the hotel shuttles arrive, our hotel shuttle showed up (which only comes every half hour). We got to the hotel, checked in, and went up to our room where we ate, as it had now been a while since our last meal thanks to my haircut. Relaxing baths, comfy beds, one more round of packing, and bed.

The next morning we were on the first shuttle back to the airport at 5:15. I hadn't been in this terminal last time, and it was super cool. Very technological, space age aesthetic. There was a weird atrium area that had a bunch of escalator-ramps that all went to different floors and pointed in strange directions and seriously looked like that shot in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone when you see all the Hogwarts staircases for the first time. I half-expected them to start changing places while we were riding them.

We were flying Iceland Air home, so we flew from Paris to Rekyavik, basically three hours straight north. I watched 500 Days of Summer, which I actually found pretty depressing, and then found Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (part 1) and started watching that. I was about halfway through when we landed in Iceland.

Our layover in Iceland was only about an hour, but we got our passport stamped since we were heading back to America and then quickly bought food at the only place to buy food in that section of the airport. It was a weird experience, with everything in kronor, having absolutely no sense of how much something cost. We got our food and checked out and it was like 2,500 kronor or something, which meant absolutely nothing to us but felt like a lot. Apparently it was like $18 or something, which was a lot for what food we were getting, but it's an airport.

Then it was time to board our flight to JFK. We ended up seated next to a girl from Iceland, so we got to hear her speak Icelandic with some of the flight attendants. I watched the rest of Harry Potter and was in the middle of watching The Hangover (which I had never seen - I know, I know) when our screens stopped working and they couldn't get them fixed. So mostly I tried to sleep for the rest of the flight.

We landed in New York I think a good 40 minutes early, and then began the next adventure, but that's a story for another day.

One (Museum) Day More (Day 14)

So Sunday was free museum day. We got up early so that we could be at the Musee D'Orsay before it opened, since we figured whatever line we encountered would only get longer as the day progressed (we were right). As you may recall, Ganesh and I made multiple attempts to visit this particular museum last year but did not succeed because the museum was "on strike." What this actually meant was that the museum employees were on strike because the museum, which was supposed to be reopening having just finished a major renovation that added a lot of new gallery space, had not added any more staff to cover this additional area. I think it finally reopened a week or two after we were there.

Anyway, it was definitely open that day, and we got there just before it opened. It took us about half an hour to snake our way through the line that had formed, weathering just a little bit of rain on the way. We first went to see the special exhibition, Degas and the Nude, which was extremely comprehensive (and therefore a little dull for people who don't particularly study penstrokes) and because it included so many drawings the rooms were very dark to protect the artwork. Like going to see bats at the zoo. It was not like the Degas of the ballet dancers, but some of it was interesting. We then headed out to explore the rest of the museum.

We discovered pretty quickly that by this point in our trip, we were getting a little museum-ed out. Consider that in the past two weeks we had been to: the Tate Modern, the National Gallery, the Tower of London, the Reina Sofia, the Prado, the Picasso Museum, and the Dali Museum. It turned out our favorite thing about the Musee D'Orsay was probably the building itself. Once a train station, the museum was created when train traffic became too heavy and they needed a bigger station, so D'Orsay got turned into a place for art. (This is how most art museums get created in Paris, it seems. L'Orangerie was once a greenhouse and the Louvre was actually a palace until Louis XIV decided it was too small and built Versailles.) The museum had gorgeous architecture, particularly including a couple of giant ornate clocks, presumably so people wouldn't miss their trains. We did see some famous works by Degas, Manet, Monet, Van Gogh, Caillebotte, Pissaro, and Seurat. Pretty cool.

After that it was still pretty early so we decided to take Sam's advice, despite our skepticism, and visit the Hunting and Nature Museum. Sam had said people always doubted him and then really liked it.

We didn't.

There were lots of stuffed-formerly-alive animals, a lot of sciencey things about animal anatomy and bones and whatnot, and some weird animal-themed art. A few rooms full of hunting rifles. Fortunately the whole thing was only really two stories of a not-particularly-large building (probably used to be something else). We laughed it off and headed out in search of food, as we were now both very hungry.

Most places seemed to be closed in the area, but as we were walking back to the metro we passed a Chinese place and bought a few things to try and took them to go. We got enough food for two meals, really, and certainly saved over eating in a restaurant. So then we and our lunch headed back to the hostel. After eating we took a nap and then went to meet up for the Montmartre walking tour.

The tour starts in front of the Moulin Rouge, which is quite possibly the most disappointing landmark in Paris when you see it in person for the first time. It's not half as big, beautiful, or romantic as it's made out to be in the movie. Still, we started there and then wound our way through the streets of Montmartre (not far from the hostel, really), seeing Van Gogh's building where he lived with his brother, the restaurant where Picasso sold sketches of waitresses for food, the only vineyard/winery in Paris (which produces only about 400 bottles of apparently mediocre wine a year), artists' square, and the studio where Picasso and Modigliani lived together back in the day. The main stop on the tour is of course the Sacre Cour at the top of Montmartre (which means means martyrs' mountain). One of the first and now also the last stop on the tour is the cafe that Amelie works in (in the movie Amelie, which I've still never seen), where we got a free glass of wine at the end. Mom and I didn't really like the wine though, and the management decided we weren't allowed to sit down at tables if we weren't buying food even though they weren't busy. I liked the place they used to end the tour better. Last time we were allowed to sit for as long as we wanted and the wine was better. So. Those are my feelings about the Amelie cafe.

After the tour we went back to the hostel for a quick rest and then went out to attempt yet again to see the Eiffel Tower light show. It only happens once an hour on the hour, so we went and saw it at midnight. We took the metro to Trocadero, where you can see it from across the river, and ideal viewing place. As I've said before, and as I warned my mom, I think it's pretty  lame. It basically looks like paparazzi are covering the tower with flashes going off constantly for about five minutes. That's all. But, Mom liked it and she was glad she got to see it at night. So then back to the hostel and to bed.

Tour de Paris (Day 13)

Our second day in Paris we got up and had breakfast in the hostel, which included coffee, orange juice, croissants, and cereal. We sat by a window looking out on the street, at a little table like in a French cafe. After breakfast we headed to do the free walking tour of Paris like I did when I visited last time. I had hoped we might get Arnaud as a tour guide again, but he wasn't at Saint Michele plaza, so we went with a guy named Sam instead. Mom later found out Sam has family in Yankton, South Dakota, where she lived after college. Small world.

Sam was a good tour guide, told us a few different stories than what I learned last time, and it was fun to see so many beautiful parts of Paris again. It got very warm in the middle of the day, but Sam did his best to stop frequently in places with bits of shade. At the end of the tour we went with Sam and some of the other tourists to a French restaurant with meal deals for people who did the tour. Perhaps the best part about the restaurant was the waiter who single-handedly served everyone who showed up. He had the perfect stereotypical French accent and seemed to really enjoy being a waiter. One of the items on the menu was duck, and as he served people he would say "I have a duck, for you, maybe?" and when he was right he would say something like "Wonderful" or "Perfect." He was really adorable.

Before we left the restaurant we got tickets for the Montmartre tour and Mom chatted with Sam a bit. We asked for his recommendations for museums on Sunday because, as it would be the first Sunday of the month, all the museums were free. We decided on the Louvre and he recommended the Museum of Hunting and Nature (Le Maison de la chasse et de la nature). He then directed us back to our hostel via a bus so that we could see some more of the city. We caught the bus and headed back, taking the metro as well (because it's impossible to get anywhere in Paris without changing buses or trains or something) and rested for a while.

Later that evening we went out to visit Shakespeare and Co, my favorite bookstore. Mom wasn't a big fan of the tight spaces (which makes everything a little crowded even when there's only a few people there), but she waited patiently in the upstairs reading room while I looked around and decided what to buy. Finally the store was closing (at 11 pm) and I settled on Fragile Things by Neil Gaiman. Mom picked out a postcard and we headed out into the Parisian night.

It was Saturday and things were pretty crazy. I tried to navigate the metro to get us to the Eiffel Tower, because Mom wanted to see the light show. We ended up having a lot of train problems and got tired and hungry and gave up and went home. There was a particular hitch getting off the train at one point where we had to go up an escalator, but police were checking tickets at the top so there was a backup. Now, as you probably know, escalators keep moving whether the people in front of you move or not. There was a brief moment of very scary backup as we kept pushing the people in front of us and the people behind us started pushing us. But finally we got home and fell into bed after a long day touring gay Paris. (pair-eee)

A French Day (Day 12)

We flew into Paris Beauvais (have fun pronouncing that one) and then took a bus into the city, which took about an hour. From the bus we took two metro trains to our hostel which was just two blocks away from the metro stop. I was familiar with this hostel because it was the one Ganesh stayed at back when I was in Paris in October. The location, right in Montmartre and so close to the metro, made it ideal. Plus I knew it would be quiet and comfortable, and we had a bathroom in our room which we only had to share with one other person.

Despite the walk being only two blocks to the hostel, we stopped just a few feet from the metro at a little crepe stand and got crepes for lunch. Then around the corner I popped into Dia (the grocery store I regularly shopped at in Madrid) and got us a liter of orange juice for a euro. Our room wasn't ready yet when we got to the hostel (it was only about 12:30) so we sat in the lobby and ate and did some research on what else we wanted to do that day. Mom had a list of free things to do, one of which included a Friday afternoon fashion show at the Lafayette Galleries, the Parisian equivalent of Harrods, Macys, etc. Right before we left, we checked at the desk and our room was ready, so we dropped our stuff off upstairs (taking the tiny elevator one person at a time) and then headed off.

We couldn't find anything about a fashion show at the store, but it was in a beautiful building with a stained glass dome in the middle and, from the top floor/roof, we got a pretty beautiful view of the city, for free. Mom got her first real view of the Eiffel Tower. We sat for a while, took a few pictures, looked around, and then headed down to explore the store. We took some time taking pictures of the dome and then went to the actually gallery, which had a modern art exhibit that we didn't understand at all. A lot of it was cartoon drawings with writing on it, in French, so we were pretty lost. Something involved Kanye West; I don't know.

From the store we decided to walk back to the hostel to see more of the city. Along the way we found a farmers market where we picked up some things for dinner - a potato pastry, artichoke salad, cherries, bread - and looked around a lot. It was all a bit of a challenge since we couldn't politely get anyone's attention in French, so we kind of had to just stand around and wait for people to help us, but it was a fun experience seeing everyone at the market.

Without very much happening, we had a very nice, French day doing things it didn't really seem like tourists would do, most of it without trying. It was a nice easy first day in Paris, and we went to bed early to catch up on sleep before the next day's adventure.

Getting Out of Barcelona (Days 10 & 11)

Our second day in Barcelona we planned a day trip to Figueres, a town outside of Barcelona that is home to the Dali museum. It took us about two hours by train after quite an adventure just to get to the train station, but when we arrived in Figueres it was a welcome break from the seemingly constant problems of Barcelona.

We followed signs for about a fifteen minute walk from the Figueres train station to the museum, through some smaller streets with interesting shops. When we got up to the museum we bought our tickets (fortunately right before a big line formed) and then sat down to have a quick lunch before the museum. We got a good deal on a burger/fries/drink/ice cream combo (neither one of us wanted any more Spanish food), sitting outside.

The museum was gigantic. Every time we turned a corner, one room became three rooms, and then sometimes there were little rooms that had just one painting in it. It was kind of like an artistic fun house. There were tons of drawings, sculptures, and paintings big and small. Some things seemed very normal, from when he was learning to paint, and then there was iconic Dali, lots of compositions of unexpected combinations of objects. There wasn't a lot to read though, most things were left completely unexplained. It was really interesting, but we got pretty tired before we were done due to the little amount of sleep we'd gotten the night before.

Admission to the museum included admission to a special exhibit called the Jewels of Dali and was a really beautiful showing of jewelry Dali designed. Some of it was surrealist like his other work, some of it was just pretty, and some was both. Most of it was well-lit, which I appreciated as well. And fortunately the exhibit was small so that we could then head back to the train station.

Along the way we stopped at the grocery store (Caprabo, like the one I shopped at by school in Madrid) and bought some cheese, almonds, and orange juice to snack on. We then only had to wait a few minutes for a train back to Barcelona. Although we were both tired, neither of us got much sleep on the train because we met a very chatty woman from South Korea who was traveling by herself and was just arriving in Barcelona. She asked a lot of questions and I think tried to get my mom and I to show her to her hostel, but we got off the train the stop before hers so we got out of that one.

We had to walk from the train station to the metro station thanks to some construction, but along the way we stopped to see two of Gaudi's most famous buildings - Casa Batllo and Casa Mila, also known as La APedrera (The Quarry). We took a few pictures and then hopped on the train back home. Mom wanted to try getting off at the next stop on the train line because it looked equidistant to our hostel but we'd come at it from the other side, so we'd get to see something new. Turned out the map was not at all to scale, we were far away, and we walked in the wrong direction so that we ended up just getting back on the train and going back to our usual stop. Funny, Barcelona. Real funny.

On our walk from the metro to our hostel we stopped at Wok to Walk, a chain I like in New York and an easy way to not eat Spanish food again. One box of noodles was enough for the two of us and we headed back to the hostel and attempted to go to bed after our roommates headed out for the night.

Things seemed alright, because the air conditioning was fixed and the boys said they'd try to be quieter. But the music was still loud downstairs and eventually the boys came back and weren't quiet and brought friends who weren't even staying in our hostel. We thought about leaving right then, but stayed through the night.

In the morning we ate breakfast in the hostel, checked out, and canceled our reservation for that night. We packed up, put our stuff in the luggage room for the day. Our only agenda for the day was Sagrada Familia and Parc Guell, two more Gaudi masterpieces, so we took our time going places. It was hot and humid so we didn't spend as much time at Sagrada Familia as I did my first time, but mom appreciated all the stained glass. We ate lunch at a subway, mom asked a man for a look at his map, and we figured out how to get to Parc Guell by bus.

Then we couldn't find the bus stop, so we walked back to the subway and took the train up to the park area. I had gotten off at a different stop when I came and walked up the hill, this time we came from behind the park but we still had to go uphill - on a street with escalators. Lots of escalators. I've never seen anything like it. We spent a little time in the park and eventually took a taxi back to the hostel because there was no good public transit option and we were both tired.

After a brief trip out to get Sam a Messi jersey (he plays for FC Barcelona) and a souvenir for Dad, we hurried back to the hostel, picked up our bags, and took a taxi to the airport hotel Mom had booked that morning. It was one of the best decisions we made on the trip. We got there around dinner time, ate our leftovers from lunch, relaxed, took long hot showers, slept in comfortable beds, it was quiet. I found Castle on tv and managed to change it to English and then later watched a Spanish game show called El Cubo. Quite entertaining.

In the morning we took the first shuttle to the airport and checked into our flight to Paris. Due to a long line at the Ryanair visa check, the desk we were supposed to check in at closed and we had to go directly to our gate where we had to gate check our bags. That meant that even though we'd already paid to check them when we booked the flight, we had to pay again. I started yelling at the woman in Spanish. But there was nothing we could do so we paid and checked the bags and got on the plane. The only comforting thought I remembered this was the flight we had never actually gotten charged for because Ryanair doesn't charge right when you book, so we hadn't actually already paid for the bags. In any case, it was one last crappy thing that happened in Barcelona. But, we were on to Paris!

Barcelona, Unfortunately (Day 9)

We arrived in Barcelona (sort of) at Girona airport, which is actually about an hour outside of the city, and took a bus to the Barcelona Nord station where we then took the metro - one stop on one line and one stop on another line - to then walk about ten minutes to our hostel. Along the way we decided to stop and get something to eat because we happened to pass a place with salads (we'd been a bit light on vegetables on our trip, especially in Madrid). I reached into the backpack for my wallet and found it was missing. Yep, someone snagged it in the metro, within 15 minutes of being in Barcelona. Lost: driver's license, debit card, two credit cards, metro card, I think about 20 euros, and my cards for crepeaway and 16 handles, meaning I lost my free crepe and free frozen yogurt that I had worked so hard to earn. :( I also lost the wallet, which was a bummer because I really liked it and my friend Isa gave it to me. Sad because the thief probably just took the cash and maybe my debit card and tossed the rest. On the bright side, I was able to freeze or cancel all the cards before any fraudulent chargers could be made, and I still have my passport. Additionally about 500 of the 600 euros I had withdrawn from my usual ATM in Madrid were with the passport, so we had that too. I do have to figure out how to get a new license though, as I need some form of ID, and I guess I'm in the market for a wallet.

We checked into the hotel and tried to deal with all the card companies, but ended up mostly leaving that to my dad back in the states because my phone only had about 10 minutes of credit left on it and our Internet connection was shaky, which ruled out phone calls via Skype. We tried and it was maddening. It was also hot and humid and the air conditioner in our room wasn't working, so it wasn't the best day.

Still, we tried to make the best of things and headed out to visit the Picasso museum, within walking distance of our hostel which was located right in Plaça Reial, the starting point of the walking tours I did last time I was in Barcelona and the site of Gaudi's only public commission: a set of lamp posts immediately deemed ugly (they're not) and resulting in no further public commissions for Gaudi.

The museum was okay, and we got to see some interesting small streets, but we were both tired so afterwards we ate near the hostel, ironically at an Irish pub with a very eclectic menu, but including a good deal on sangria and paella, which was the one Spanish food Mom still wanted to have. I should mention our hostel technically offered free dinner from 8:30 "until the food runs out" but the food runs out within five minutes. We had actually come back to the hostel and taken a nap after the museum and went downstairs for dinner, waited in line to be served paella of all things, and were about 10 or 15 people behind the final serving. The food at the restaurant was fine though.

Then we tried to go to bed, around 10. Well, our hostel had a bar area on the first floor (we were on the second) and the bar liked to play club-volume music with the bass amped up so that it vibrated my upper bunk bed. On top of that 3 of our 6 roommates were loud obnoxious giant (but really, they were all like six and a half feet tall and muscley) men from I think Ireland, based on how difficult it was to understand them. I found the idea of then trying to fit into five foot long beds funny, but other than that it was pretty unpleasant. The only light in the room was very bright and disturbing when trying to sleep, if you could fall asleep with all the noise in the hallways and coming from downstairs. We thought about canceling the rest of our reservation and finding somewhere else to stay, but that would have meant not having time to take a day trip the next day, so we decided to tough it out.

It was not the best night.

The next day, we made one of our best decisions and left for he day to go to Figueres, w hours by train, to the Dali house and museum.

More on that tomorrow maybe. It's 10:30 here in Paris and we fly early in the morning, and I'm exhausted, so it's time for bed in the very comfy airport hotel room. Aurevoir! (Screw my attempts at spelling in French.)

Oh. In case you were wondering, don't stay at Kabul backpackers hostel if you actually intend on sleeping while it's dark out.

¡Regreso a Madrid! (Days 6, 7, and 8)

Saturday morning we flew very early from Gatwick to Madrid, arriving at our hostel around 12:30. I was disappointed to find at the airport that the airport express bus has gone up in price from 2 to 5 euros. I guess it couldn't stay an outrageously good deal forever. But it got us to Cibeles quickly and then we walked to our hostel, just a few blocks up the street from my apartment building on Huertas.

We couldn't check into our room for another hour, so we walked up and down the street in search of ice cream as it was very warm and we were a bit hungry. My favorite place had closed and the other one I knew of wasn't open at the time, so we walked down to the alimentación under my apartment. The man who runs the place was there and he recognized me, even with my short hair and was so happy to see me! It was a wonderful surprise and he asked about my roommate and if I was studying again or just on vacation. We got ice cream and sat on a bench out in the street to eat it in a shady breeze.

After we finished we walked back up to the hostel and checked in to our four bed room. We had two roommates, girls who spoke something that sounded similar to German but wasn't. It didn't sound aggressive enough and they didn't speak English, and I've never met a German who didn't speak English.

We took a nap while we had the room to ourselves and then walked back down the street to eat lunch (around 4:30, which is late even in Spain) at Los Rotos, the place Brian and I went to twice during his visit. The food was good as always (Mom got to try croquetas) and we had sangria.

Following lunch or whatever you call eating at that time, we dragged ourselves to the Reina Sofia, the contemporary art museum not too far from where we were staying and managed to look around for an hour before trudging back to the hostel and falling asleep. While there we saw some Dali and Miro and of course Picasso's Guernica, one of the most famous works of Spanish art.

The next morning our not-German roommates left. We had breakfast in the hostel, which was just coffee, juice, and toast or cornflakes, and then went to see Alice in Wonderland the Musical (in Spanish) at a theatre about a ten minute walk from Huertas. We picked that of course because then we knew at least my mom could follow the story even though she wouldn't understand all the words. I did my best to explain the songs to her and the plot points that were different. It also turned out to be specifically made for kids, so the acting was all very physical and pretty easy to understand. It turned out to be a good choice and a fun time for only 15 euros each.

After the show we got lunch at a Mexican restaurant I really like called la Mordida and shared nachos with fresh guacamole and some kind of meat and tortilla dish with a yummy sauce. Plenty of food for the two of us, with a very polite waitress who didn't mind my Spanish. It was nice to remember that in Madrid people are very willing to let you try. The girl at the front desk when we checked in talked to me in Spanish at first and then asked if English was better when she saw my US passport, but I told her I needed to practice and kept up with her Spanish explanation of all the hostel policies.

We walked from the restaurant to go see some of the sights in Madrid - Plaza Mayor, el Mercado de San Miguel where we got gelato, a brief tour of the cathedral, the palace (from the outside), Opera, and Sol all on our way back to the hostel. Then it was time for a rest for a while before joining a group of other hostel residents for a flamenco show.

This show turned out to be something created by some of the people who work with the hostels and was a very budget-beginners guide to flamenco. It was in a cave (a brick room under a building, in this case), and there was a singer, a dancer, and a guitarist. I want totally impressed having seen flamenco before, but it seemed enjoyable to those who didn't have any flamenco experience and we got a free (small) cup of sangria, so it was an interesting experience.

We waked partway back with the guy who had led us to the show from our hostel and hen when I found a familiar street we left the group and headed to San Gines, the most famous place for chocolate con churros in Spain. Good dinner, around 11, followed by bed.

Monday we took things slow, spending the morning repacking our suitcases as we were now halfway through our trip. Around 2 we met my friend Alejandro for lunch at a tapas place in plaza Santa Ana, near the hostel and next door to Cien Montaditos, the old favorite. Tapas were just alright but it was fun to try some new things and Alejandro got to practice his English. We got ice cream up the street from the hostel and enjoyed it in the street before saying goodbye and going to take a nap.

That evening we took advantage of the Prado being free at 6 and spent an hour or so seeing all the famous works I could remember anything about. I did my best to give my mom an informed tour of all the greatest hits including Goya, El Greco, Velazquez, and Rubens.

Then came my favorite part of our time in Madrid: dinner with my Spanish family! We met them outside Parque del Retiro and had cold drinks outside under the trees first (Nacho and Jaine mostly played futbol while the grown ups talked) and then we went to a seafood restaurant for dinner around 10. Since we drove in their car, mom got to see lots of different parts of the city. It was really great to see everyone again, we spoke in a mix of English and Spanish to try to accommodate everyone, and hopefully they'll all be coming to New York soon. I'm really glad my mom finally got to meet them, my favorite part of Spain. Perhaps the best part of the evening was when I got to give Jaime the double decker London bus full of chocolates I had brought as a gift for the family. I mentioned that I had a present at the beginning of dinner and Jaime didn't forget. He got so excited when I finally said it was time since he had started to think I didn't really have a present, and was very happy to find candy inside. I told him he had to share but who knows if he will.

When we finished dinner the family drove us back down to Huertas and we said our goodbyes. Even Jaime who was practically asleep in the backseat got out to give me a hug and kiss goodbye. It was such a joyous occasion, I'm incredibly grateful.

And so we headed to bed one last time in Madrid, off to Barcelona the next morning.