Here it is....the Barcelona Phallux: Torre Agbar, An Office BuildingGirona
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Snogging In Porto
Like Marseille, Porto is also a gritty city. However, Porto is much softer, friendlier, and not as rough around the edges. As is evident from the dingy apartment buildings lining the streets with their peeling paint, crumbling facades and laundry strung everywhere, the city is poor, but its inhabitants warm and welcoming, nonetheless. The Porto denizens may not speak a great deal of English, but unlike the Marseilleans, they try as hard as they can to assist you. This became evident immediately at the airport. The signage (sp?) for the metro was a little unclear and I could not find my way there. I asked one of the airport maintenance guys, who was not able to tell me how to get there, but was more than willing to show me by accompanying me downstairs, through the walkway, all the way over to the metro station where he subsequently proceeded to help me purchase a ticket. How incredibly kind! As I then rode the metro into town (Lonely Planet needs to update its info on this one, btw. There is a beautiful new metro now and no bus needed to the city. This is yet another testament to the Lonely Planet´s growing pile of misinformation), I quickly became enchanted with this locale as we passed rolling green fields and beautiful scenery on the short 20 minute ride into town.
Again, as I got off the metro, I stopped to ask for directions at the first corner store, and while given to me in Portuguese, I was able to make out that I needed to simply follow the street just outside and then make two lefts and I would be on the street I needed. I thanked her and went on my way. After my experience in Marseille I couldn't help thinking to myself that "we´ll see how this pans out". But, lo and behold, it DID pan out and I found myself where I needed to be in just a few short minutes.
I checked into the hostel, where there were more friendly and inviting people. I found my bed and plunked all my stuff down on it, exhausted from the night I had spent in the Marseille airport, not getting much sleep. I took a quick nap and decided to head out in search of the bus station. As I mentioned in a previous post, I had originally intended to go to Lisbon as I had heard so many great things about this city. So, I wanted to go to check out the bus schedule to see if I could feasibly make my way to Lisbon and thus add another city to my growing European repertoire.
By this point in the trip, I had navigated enough cities that I don´t doubt my ability to figure out a map or how to get around. But, either the map they gave me was crap (my theory), the city is truly complex, or it's an intricate combination of the two! One of the hostel staff had kindly circled the bus station for me on the map and looking at the map, it appeared to be about a 20 minute walk. Ha! If I had only known what was in store for me, I might just have surrendered and gone to bed right then and there.
While the map seemed very detailed, half of the streets were not on the map. Additionally, the streets are narrow and winding in all kinds of crazy directions, so it´s not easy to get your bearing of where a particular street might be heading. Not to mention that there are uphills and downhills and things that are not where they are supposed to be, as marked on the map. Oy! What a headache! It probably took me about an hour to locate the elusive bus stop, only to be told that ¨Nope, we don´t sell bus tickets to Lisbon here and I can´t tell you where they do¨ Aw, cod bucket! Now what? Ah, some quick thinking and I see that according to the map there is supposed to be a Grand Hotel right around the corner. I will go there. Being that they are there to serve tourists, they must know where the bus station is!
I walked all the way around the block where the Grand Hotel was supposed to be located, TWICE, but no hotel. I saw the street sign for parking for the hotel, but no darn hotel. Argh! At this point, I'm tired and desperately need to find a bathroom, but I still have no clue where to go, and now I am absolutely certain that I want to go to Lisbon to get the heck out of this city where the citizens may be super friendly, but finding my way around is a nightmare!
Thankfully, while I did not locate the Grand Hotel, I found a travel agency, and the lady there was incredibly nice. Told me where the bus station is (of course, it was located almost all the way back to the hostel). She also let me use the bathroom, which was a huge relief. If you've done any traveling around Europe, you know that they are pretty funny about the use of their bathrooms. There are VERY few public bathrooms and if there are any, there is usually a charge. You are not allowed to use bathrooms in bars, cafes, restaurants, etc, unless you are a paying customer and they are really strict about this. Porto was not like this! Along with its helpful and friendly inhabitants, it was also the most toilet friendly city I encountered in Europe. Hooray for people who understand the human need to relieve oneself every now and then!
Relieved of urine and with a new destination in mind, I set out to find this bus station whose existence I was beginning to doubt. The trek back across town to this new location became even more circuitous and time consuming. Part of the trip I could easily figure out as I just needed to retrace my steps, but the rest of it was just as confusing as my initial trek due to the crappy map and confusing city layout. Finally, three hours later I managed to find it at last, got my bus timetable for Lisbon and decided to leisurely wander about the city to take in as much as I could since I would probably skip town for Lisbon the next a.m.
At the end of the day, I was exhausted from all the walking and the little sleep I had gotten the previous night. At this point of the trip, I was also really tired of all the sightseeing. Exploring new cities is fun and exciting, but it's also a lot of hard work. Every day you get up, eat breakfast to fuel yourself for the day's adventures, check your ´to-see´ list and head out to see all the things on your list. After a while, it becomes like a job. So, even though it´s a vacation, it's not really a vacation. Now, I´m not complaining, I'm merely stating my state of mind at this particular point in time. I´m exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Ready for bed. I get back to the hostel and take a much needed shower. As I'm getting ready for bed, I start chatting with one of my roommates, a lovely girl from Bath, England. Her name is Kirstie and she is an ER nurse, avid traveler, and about to apply to professional school to become a either a psychiatrist or psychologist! We hit it off right away and she starts telling me about this hot Italian guy who stayed at the hostel the previous night and whom she had gone out with to a concert. They had a great time together and at the end of the evening, he ´snogged´her. 'Snogged?', I asked, is that like kissing or making out? Yes, that is exactly what it is. I love the British and their funny expressions. Every time she said ´snog´or ´snogging´, I squealed with delight. We had such a nice time chatting that I decided not to go to Lisbon and stay in Porto for another night. She invited me to join her for a concert the next night, and I eagerly accepted.
The next morning, we continued our conversation over breakfast. She had been to the beach the previous day and that sounded like a nice plan for me that day. She was going to spend her last day in Porto taking a bus tour to see some sights as it only cost 10 euros, which was all the money she had left. We were both reading really good books so decided to go to a nearby park first to read together for an hour or so before heading off in our respective directions for the day. By the time we got to the park, we were so engrossed in conversation that we could not stop to read. We sat down in the grass and continued to talk. We ended up talking for hours until we were both starving and desperately had to go to the bathroom. At this point, it was too late to follow through on our day plans, so we decided instead to eat lunch, then buy some beer to enjoy in the grass of a different park I had found the previous day during my hunt for the bus station. Our trek from park to park was all the sightseeing I did that day and it felt great!
We had such a lovely and fun time drinking, chatting, and laughing that we were late for the concert and ended up missing it altogether. But, it was an absolutely amazing day, so restorative of mind and soul. Exactly what I needed. We shared so many personal things with each other and talked about everything, relationships, sex, politics, religion, and anything in between and beyond. There was a connection between us on so many different levels that it almost felt as if I had found my twin soul. Finally, around 10 p or so, we wandered back to the hostel. There, we shared some rum with a couple of handsome architecture students, one Hungarian and one Polish, both now living in Valencia. It was just such a great day and a wonderful way to end this amazing trip.
Now, I'm back in Madrid and I have to admit that it feels a little like coming home. Since this is where we started our European adventure and we really liked Madrid, it kinda feels like home away from home. One more day, and then I'm getting back on a plane to fly to my actual home. Before yesterday, I was so ready to head home, but after meeting Kirstie, I feel rejuvenated and ready for more adventure, so not sure I'm ready to end my European adventure just yet...
Again, as I got off the metro, I stopped to ask for directions at the first corner store, and while given to me in Portuguese, I was able to make out that I needed to simply follow the street just outside and then make two lefts and I would be on the street I needed. I thanked her and went on my way. After my experience in Marseille I couldn't help thinking to myself that "we´ll see how this pans out". But, lo and behold, it DID pan out and I found myself where I needed to be in just a few short minutes.
I checked into the hostel, where there were more friendly and inviting people. I found my bed and plunked all my stuff down on it, exhausted from the night I had spent in the Marseille airport, not getting much sleep. I took a quick nap and decided to head out in search of the bus station. As I mentioned in a previous post, I had originally intended to go to Lisbon as I had heard so many great things about this city. So, I wanted to go to check out the bus schedule to see if I could feasibly make my way to Lisbon and thus add another city to my growing European repertoire.
By this point in the trip, I had navigated enough cities that I don´t doubt my ability to figure out a map or how to get around. But, either the map they gave me was crap (my theory), the city is truly complex, or it's an intricate combination of the two! One of the hostel staff had kindly circled the bus station for me on the map and looking at the map, it appeared to be about a 20 minute walk. Ha! If I had only known what was in store for me, I might just have surrendered and gone to bed right then and there.
While the map seemed very detailed, half of the streets were not on the map. Additionally, the streets are narrow and winding in all kinds of crazy directions, so it´s not easy to get your bearing of where a particular street might be heading. Not to mention that there are uphills and downhills and things that are not where they are supposed to be, as marked on the map. Oy! What a headache! It probably took me about an hour to locate the elusive bus stop, only to be told that ¨Nope, we don´t sell bus tickets to Lisbon here and I can´t tell you where they do¨ Aw, cod bucket! Now what? Ah, some quick thinking and I see that according to the map there is supposed to be a Grand Hotel right around the corner. I will go there. Being that they are there to serve tourists, they must know where the bus station is!
I walked all the way around the block where the Grand Hotel was supposed to be located, TWICE, but no hotel. I saw the street sign for parking for the hotel, but no darn hotel. Argh! At this point, I'm tired and desperately need to find a bathroom, but I still have no clue where to go, and now I am absolutely certain that I want to go to Lisbon to get the heck out of this city where the citizens may be super friendly, but finding my way around is a nightmare!
Thankfully, while I did not locate the Grand Hotel, I found a travel agency, and the lady there was incredibly nice. Told me where the bus station is (of course, it was located almost all the way back to the hostel). She also let me use the bathroom, which was a huge relief. If you've done any traveling around Europe, you know that they are pretty funny about the use of their bathrooms. There are VERY few public bathrooms and if there are any, there is usually a charge. You are not allowed to use bathrooms in bars, cafes, restaurants, etc, unless you are a paying customer and they are really strict about this. Porto was not like this! Along with its helpful and friendly inhabitants, it was also the most toilet friendly city I encountered in Europe. Hooray for people who understand the human need to relieve oneself every now and then!
Relieved of urine and with a new destination in mind, I set out to find this bus station whose existence I was beginning to doubt. The trek back across town to this new location became even more circuitous and time consuming. Part of the trip I could easily figure out as I just needed to retrace my steps, but the rest of it was just as confusing as my initial trek due to the crappy map and confusing city layout. Finally, three hours later I managed to find it at last, got my bus timetable for Lisbon and decided to leisurely wander about the city to take in as much as I could since I would probably skip town for Lisbon the next a.m.
At the end of the day, I was exhausted from all the walking and the little sleep I had gotten the previous night. At this point of the trip, I was also really tired of all the sightseeing. Exploring new cities is fun and exciting, but it's also a lot of hard work. Every day you get up, eat breakfast to fuel yourself for the day's adventures, check your ´to-see´ list and head out to see all the things on your list. After a while, it becomes like a job. So, even though it´s a vacation, it's not really a vacation. Now, I´m not complaining, I'm merely stating my state of mind at this particular point in time. I´m exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Ready for bed. I get back to the hostel and take a much needed shower. As I'm getting ready for bed, I start chatting with one of my roommates, a lovely girl from Bath, England. Her name is Kirstie and she is an ER nurse, avid traveler, and about to apply to professional school to become a either a psychiatrist or psychologist! We hit it off right away and she starts telling me about this hot Italian guy who stayed at the hostel the previous night and whom she had gone out with to a concert. They had a great time together and at the end of the evening, he ´snogged´her. 'Snogged?', I asked, is that like kissing or making out? Yes, that is exactly what it is. I love the British and their funny expressions. Every time she said ´snog´or ´snogging´, I squealed with delight. We had such a nice time chatting that I decided not to go to Lisbon and stay in Porto for another night. She invited me to join her for a concert the next night, and I eagerly accepted.
The next morning, we continued our conversation over breakfast. She had been to the beach the previous day and that sounded like a nice plan for me that day. She was going to spend her last day in Porto taking a bus tour to see some sights as it only cost 10 euros, which was all the money she had left. We were both reading really good books so decided to go to a nearby park first to read together for an hour or so before heading off in our respective directions for the day. By the time we got to the park, we were so engrossed in conversation that we could not stop to read. We sat down in the grass and continued to talk. We ended up talking for hours until we were both starving and desperately had to go to the bathroom. At this point, it was too late to follow through on our day plans, so we decided instead to eat lunch, then buy some beer to enjoy in the grass of a different park I had found the previous day during my hunt for the bus station. Our trek from park to park was all the sightseeing I did that day and it felt great!
We had such a lovely and fun time drinking, chatting, and laughing that we were late for the concert and ended up missing it altogether. But, it was an absolutely amazing day, so restorative of mind and soul. Exactly what I needed. We shared so many personal things with each other and talked about everything, relationships, sex, politics, religion, and anything in between and beyond. There was a connection between us on so many different levels that it almost felt as if I had found my twin soul. Finally, around 10 p or so, we wandered back to the hostel. There, we shared some rum with a couple of handsome architecture students, one Hungarian and one Polish, both now living in Valencia. It was just such a great day and a wonderful way to end this amazing trip.
Now, I'm back in Madrid and I have to admit that it feels a little like coming home. Since this is where we started our European adventure and we really liked Madrid, it kinda feels like home away from home. One more day, and then I'm getting back on a plane to fly to my actual home. Before yesterday, I was so ready to head home, but after meeting Kirstie, I feel rejuvenated and ready for more adventure, so not sure I'm ready to end my European adventure just yet...
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Marseille
Marseille is a gritty city. Vibrant, but rough around the edges. Expensive, and yes, the French are not overly friendly or helpful unless you are French or speak French. I have to admit that I was disappointed about that as I had always felt that if you only smiled, acted humble and friendly, you'd be greeted the same way in return. Not so. If you speak English, they look at you as if your neck just sprouted a second head. However, if you make an attempt at French, even if it is crappy, barely understandable high school French, they at least try to work with you, but still refuse to speak English.
Also, traveling alone now is no fun. Yesterday, after walking around all afternoon, I was starving. Decided I would splurge and order myself an Entrecote avec roquefort et pommes frites. Yum! I sat down at the restaurant I had chosen to bring me this French feast. It was 6:30 p.m. Nope, no dinner menu yet, too early. Ok, can I please have a glass of red wine then? Just this simple conversation made me feel as if I was a visiting Martian, unable to communicate with the earthling in front of me. But, eventually, the waitress clunked down an ice cold glass of red wine on the table. Hmm...wasn't aware that red wine should be served ice cold. Aren't the French red wine experts? In addition to being ice cold, it was also the worst glass of red I've ever had. Didn't think I'd have that experience in France, but, oh well. I'm in Marseille, the sun is shining, the bright blue Mediterranean is spread out below, I have a great book to read. I'll just enjoy the moment, which I did.
After finishing my glass of wine, I was still hungry, actually starving at this point, plus loopy from the red wine on an empty stomach, so desperately seeking the next restaurant in my path able to serve up a juicy entrecote. Restaurants here are not far and few in between down by the touristy harbor area, so I quickly found one, sat down at a table and waited for the waitress to appear, which she did, and looked at me quizzically. I asked if I could please see a menu, which did not seem like an odd or out of the ordinary request to me, being that I was at a restaurant and all. However, from the look she gave me, you would have thought that I had just asked her to shampoo my hair or something equally bizarre . I repeated my request with a renewed smile and finally she got it and brought me a menu only to never return. I probably sat there for 30 minutes and waited before I left. It is as if you're invisible when you are by yourself.
So, needless to say, my first day in Marseille wasn't great. But, then I gave up on the idea of a good meal and found a little hole in the wall fast food place and got myself a huge slice of yummy greasy pizza, delicious fries, and a soda for 4 euros. That made me feel a whole lot better.
Today, I've been out hiking all day, visiting Notre Dame De La Garde, a beautiful cathedral high up on a hill and visible from all over Marseille. The view from up there was absolutely stunning, a vista of the beautiful sea as well as the stretched out city and the harbor below. Afterward, I meandered about, found a few pretty parks where the Birdsey brothers, Thomas and Dominick kept me company throughout the day. They are the main characters in the excellent book I'm reading: "I Know This Much Is True" by Wally Lamb (She's Come Undone). If you're in the market for a great read, I can highly recommend it!
After wandering around all day and seeing the city from so many different angles and elevations, I feel like I got what I came here for and am ready to move onto my new destination: Porto. I know I said in an earlier post that Lisbon was next, but I messed up. It's a long story, or rather, it's an embarrassing story, so I'll save it for later. My flight for Porto leaves at the crack of dawn, and rather than risking missing my flight again, which I cannot afford to do on more time, I'm heading out to the airport tonight for another fun night at the airport. I'm a little worried though, because one of my roommates last night said that she wasn't sure the airport would be open overnight as it is so small. So, we'll see what happens...
Also, traveling alone now is no fun. Yesterday, after walking around all afternoon, I was starving. Decided I would splurge and order myself an Entrecote avec roquefort et pommes frites. Yum! I sat down at the restaurant I had chosen to bring me this French feast. It was 6:30 p.m. Nope, no dinner menu yet, too early. Ok, can I please have a glass of red wine then? Just this simple conversation made me feel as if I was a visiting Martian, unable to communicate with the earthling in front of me. But, eventually, the waitress clunked down an ice cold glass of red wine on the table. Hmm...wasn't aware that red wine should be served ice cold. Aren't the French red wine experts? In addition to being ice cold, it was also the worst glass of red I've ever had. Didn't think I'd have that experience in France, but, oh well. I'm in Marseille, the sun is shining, the bright blue Mediterranean is spread out below, I have a great book to read. I'll just enjoy the moment, which I did.
After finishing my glass of wine, I was still hungry, actually starving at this point, plus loopy from the red wine on an empty stomach, so desperately seeking the next restaurant in my path able to serve up a juicy entrecote. Restaurants here are not far and few in between down by the touristy harbor area, so I quickly found one, sat down at a table and waited for the waitress to appear, which she did, and looked at me quizzically. I asked if I could please see a menu, which did not seem like an odd or out of the ordinary request to me, being that I was at a restaurant and all. However, from the look she gave me, you would have thought that I had just asked her to shampoo my hair or something equally bizarre . I repeated my request with a renewed smile and finally she got it and brought me a menu only to never return. I probably sat there for 30 minutes and waited before I left. It is as if you're invisible when you are by yourself.
So, needless to say, my first day in Marseille wasn't great. But, then I gave up on the idea of a good meal and found a little hole in the wall fast food place and got myself a huge slice of yummy greasy pizza, delicious fries, and a soda for 4 euros. That made me feel a whole lot better.
Today, I've been out hiking all day, visiting Notre Dame De La Garde, a beautiful cathedral high up on a hill and visible from all over Marseille. The view from up there was absolutely stunning, a vista of the beautiful sea as well as the stretched out city and the harbor below. Afterward, I meandered about, found a few pretty parks where the Birdsey brothers, Thomas and Dominick kept me company throughout the day. They are the main characters in the excellent book I'm reading: "I Know This Much Is True" by Wally Lamb (She's Come Undone). If you're in the market for a great read, I can highly recommend it!
After wandering around all day and seeing the city from so many different angles and elevations, I feel like I got what I came here for and am ready to move onto my new destination: Porto. I know I said in an earlier post that Lisbon was next, but I messed up. It's a long story, or rather, it's an embarrassing story, so I'll save it for later. My flight for Porto leaves at the crack of dawn, and rather than risking missing my flight again, which I cannot afford to do on more time, I'm heading out to the airport tonight for another fun night at the airport. I'm a little worried though, because one of my roommates last night said that she wasn't sure the airport would be open overnight as it is so small. So, we'll see what happens...
Saturday, May 3, 2008
22 Hours From Prague To Marseille
Internet access is random on our trail. Sometimes, it is available in the hostels for free, sometimes for a charge, and sometimes not at all. In Prague, we did have free internet, but the keyboards had a different layout, again with the z and y interchanged, and sticky space bars. Additionally, we were preoccupied with finding lodging and making travel arrangements when we did have computer access, which is why I haven't had a chance to write until now. During my last posting, I mentioned that we finally found a hostel for our last night in Prague, that also happened to be my birthday. As were getting ready in the a.m., we could not wait to leave the fleabag hostel we had stayed at for the first two nights. The beds there were clean and fine to sleep in, but the showers filthy and gross. In fact, they were so nasty that Brian refused to shower there before we left, hoping to freshen up in our new hostel instead.
We happily toted our luggage over to the nearby hostel only to be told that they are absolutely booked. Sorry. No availability for the holiday.
Me: But, I made a reservation, AND received an email confirmation. I have the confirmation number here, 5154.
Hostel Guy: Sorry, there must be some mistake. We do not have any room for you. In fact, I believe I sent you an email telling you this.
Me: I never received it. If I had received such an email, I would have tried to make alternative accommodations. Now, it is going to be too late to find anything since it is a holiday and they're booked everywhere.
Hostel Guy: I am sorry, I just gave away our last room
Brian: Did you just give the last room to the guys who cut in front of us in line while we waited?
Hostel Guy: Yes, that was the last room. Sorry.
I'm almost in tears at this point. Can't find a room to stay in here in Prague. Can't find a room to stay in in Marseille. The travel arrangements I had made to Marseille, Porto, and Madrid, were not what I had wanted and ended up costing me more than they should, which really irked me.
Me: But, it's my birthday, I really don't want to spend it sleeping in the bus station.
Somehow, this desperate plea must have worked. the hostel guy(who actually was very friendly) looked some more on his complicated bed availability chart and somehow magically found us a room after he looked at my passport and confirmed that it was, in fact, my birthday. I wonder where we would have slept had it not been my birthday.
Anyhow, the room was beautiful (but our hostel world standards), PRIVATE, i.e. just me and Brian, for the first time on this trip, AND we kinda had our own roof patio as well. (It was really just that we were able to climb out on the roof through our window).
Later that day, we hiked up the big hill on the other side of the river and climbed the 299 steps of the Petrin Tower, with a spectacular vista from the top. From there, we wandered over to the Prague Castle. We did not go in as it was pretty pricey, the line a mile long, and we had already seen two really impressive palaces, so figured we'd save our money. The remainder of our time in Prague, we pretty much spent enjoying scrumptious food and laughing about silly situations that had come up during our trip. For instance, one our free walking tour of Prague, the tour guide asked the group at one point if we knew who had composed the opera 'Don Giovanni' currently playing at the Prague Opera House. Someone in the group blurted out: "Don Quixote", and everyone in the group looked at each other in bewilderment. Was he serious?!? Did he actually think that Don Quixote, Cervantes' fictional character had composed Don Giovanni?
We also laughed about the time on the metro in Madrid when we were heading to the bus station with our big, bulky back packs. The train pulled into the station and the doors opened on both sides. Not really paying attention to the other side as the doors usually only open on one side, I exited on my side, while Brian did the same, except that his side was a different side and we ended up on separate sides of the train. For a split second, we stood there, like two complete idiots and just stared at each other from our separate platforms before Brian finally snapped into it and ran across the train to join me on my platform before the train doors closed.
Then there was the moment earlier that day when we were walking around, casually chatting about something related to my driving skills. Brian made some comment that I couldn't hear, and here's how the rest of the conversation went:
Me: Sorry, what did you say?
Brian: Your hearing is about as bad as my mother's.
Me (not wanting to reveal that yet again I did not hear what he'd said, but assuming that it was something derogatory about my driving skills): I'm a fine driver!!!
That one had us laughing so hard that we were nearly crying. My hearing is notoriously bad. I think there's some kind of disconnect between my inner ear and my audio cortex. (I know, I know, there's a lot of loose wiring in there, and a lot of missing wiring too for that matter!)
Anyhow, that pretty much sums up our time in Prague. As I mentioned previously, this was our parting point. Luckily, our buses departed at the same time, so at 3:30 p.m. Brian boarded a bus to Venice to explore Italy while I boarded a 22 hour bus to Marseille. The 22 hour ride actually wasn't that bad. We got a couple of breaks along the way. Overall, during the time I was awake and there was light out, the ride through south of Germany was very pretty. South of France was pretty as well, although in an entirely different way. The only bad point was when the nice and quiet French girl sitting next to me got off in Lyon. Instead, a couple of guys got on, and one of them had the stinkiest feet I have ever smelled. It was a rough five hour ride next to those reeky things after that.
Once I got to Marseille, I figured I would adopt our usual routine: find a tourist information office at the the bus station, get a map, walk to the hostel, dump my bags, and head out to explore. For the first time on this trip, that plan failed. Typical when I was alone. (Brian's words kept ringing in my ear: Getting lost together is an adventure, getting lost on your own is scary.) No tourist information office at this bus station. Luckily, the lady told me that the street I was looking for where my hostel is located, was nearby 'Dix minutes'. Perfect, I can walk there. Yay! I didn't quite understand the directions she gave other than make a left and go down the stairs. I figured, I'd just ask someone when I reached that point. And, that is what I did, until I had been directed by three different people to walk in a large circle and found myself back in front of the bus station again, which is pretty much where I wanted to be as the hostel is right there. So, here I am in Marseille. Alone. Thrilling and a little scary.
We happily toted our luggage over to the nearby hostel only to be told that they are absolutely booked. Sorry. No availability for the holiday.
Me: But, I made a reservation, AND received an email confirmation. I have the confirmation number here, 5154.
Hostel Guy: Sorry, there must be some mistake. We do not have any room for you. In fact, I believe I sent you an email telling you this.
Me: I never received it. If I had received such an email, I would have tried to make alternative accommodations. Now, it is going to be too late to find anything since it is a holiday and they're booked everywhere.
Hostel Guy: I am sorry, I just gave away our last room
Brian: Did you just give the last room to the guys who cut in front of us in line while we waited?
Hostel Guy: Yes, that was the last room. Sorry.
I'm almost in tears at this point. Can't find a room to stay in here in Prague. Can't find a room to stay in in Marseille. The travel arrangements I had made to Marseille, Porto, and Madrid, were not what I had wanted and ended up costing me more than they should, which really irked me.
Me: But, it's my birthday, I really don't want to spend it sleeping in the bus station.
Somehow, this desperate plea must have worked. the hostel guy(who actually was very friendly) looked some more on his complicated bed availability chart and somehow magically found us a room after he looked at my passport and confirmed that it was, in fact, my birthday. I wonder where we would have slept had it not been my birthday.
Anyhow, the room was beautiful (but our hostel world standards), PRIVATE, i.e. just me and Brian, for the first time on this trip, AND we kinda had our own roof patio as well. (It was really just that we were able to climb out on the roof through our window).
Later that day, we hiked up the big hill on the other side of the river and climbed the 299 steps of the Petrin Tower, with a spectacular vista from the top. From there, we wandered over to the Prague Castle. We did not go in as it was pretty pricey, the line a mile long, and we had already seen two really impressive palaces, so figured we'd save our money. The remainder of our time in Prague, we pretty much spent enjoying scrumptious food and laughing about silly situations that had come up during our trip. For instance, one our free walking tour of Prague, the tour guide asked the group at one point if we knew who had composed the opera 'Don Giovanni' currently playing at the Prague Opera House. Someone in the group blurted out: "Don Quixote", and everyone in the group looked at each other in bewilderment. Was he serious?!? Did he actually think that Don Quixote, Cervantes' fictional character had composed Don Giovanni?
We also laughed about the time on the metro in Madrid when we were heading to the bus station with our big, bulky back packs. The train pulled into the station and the doors opened on both sides. Not really paying attention to the other side as the doors usually only open on one side, I exited on my side, while Brian did the same, except that his side was a different side and we ended up on separate sides of the train. For a split second, we stood there, like two complete idiots and just stared at each other from our separate platforms before Brian finally snapped into it and ran across the train to join me on my platform before the train doors closed.
Then there was the moment earlier that day when we were walking around, casually chatting about something related to my driving skills. Brian made some comment that I couldn't hear, and here's how the rest of the conversation went:
Me: Sorry, what did you say?
Brian: Your hearing is about as bad as my mother's.
Me (not wanting to reveal that yet again I did not hear what he'd said, but assuming that it was something derogatory about my driving skills): I'm a fine driver!!!
That one had us laughing so hard that we were nearly crying. My hearing is notoriously bad. I think there's some kind of disconnect between my inner ear and my audio cortex. (I know, I know, there's a lot of loose wiring in there, and a lot of missing wiring too for that matter!)
Anyhow, that pretty much sums up our time in Prague. As I mentioned previously, this was our parting point. Luckily, our buses departed at the same time, so at 3:30 p.m. Brian boarded a bus to Venice to explore Italy while I boarded a 22 hour bus to Marseille. The 22 hour ride actually wasn't that bad. We got a couple of breaks along the way. Overall, during the time I was awake and there was light out, the ride through south of Germany was very pretty. South of France was pretty as well, although in an entirely different way. The only bad point was when the nice and quiet French girl sitting next to me got off in Lyon. Instead, a couple of guys got on, and one of them had the stinkiest feet I have ever smelled. It was a rough five hour ride next to those reeky things after that.
Once I got to Marseille, I figured I would adopt our usual routine: find a tourist information office at the the bus station, get a map, walk to the hostel, dump my bags, and head out to explore. For the first time on this trip, that plan failed. Typical when I was alone. (Brian's words kept ringing in my ear: Getting lost together is an adventure, getting lost on your own is scary.) No tourist information office at this bus station. Luckily, the lady told me that the street I was looking for where my hostel is located, was nearby 'Dix minutes'. Perfect, I can walk there. Yay! I didn't quite understand the directions she gave other than make a left and go down the stairs. I figured, I'd just ask someone when I reached that point. And, that is what I did, until I had been directed by three different people to walk in a large circle and found myself back in front of the bus station again, which is pretty much where I wanted to be as the hostel is right there. So, here I am in Marseille. Alone. Thrilling and a little scary.
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