Best Kind of Lost

Best Kind of Lost

You can scroll the shelf using and keys

Four Days in Florence

by Dave
May 22-25

 

Our arrival in Florence was met with red carpets. Days before we arrived, rumors of The David’s arrival had begun to swirl. “He’s alive,” they said. “The perfect man, he’s visiting the old city to stare his statue face to face, abs to abs, for the first time…. Quick, reserve your space along the parade route for this historic occasion!”

In truth, none of this happened. (EDITOR’S NOTE: There was no way this joke wasn’t happening. You knew it. I knew it. I’m sorry.) Instead, we arrived in the city that is famous for, among other things, Michelangelo’s statue with which I share my name, on a modest regional train from Lucca.

I think you’d agree that my first version would have been much more interesting.

This was the first major Italian city on our itinerary (pipe down, Pisa). In addition to its promise of phenomenal food and wine, Florence is best known for being the birthplace of the Renaissance. As fate would have it, Dan Brown’s latest book, Inferno (once again featuring the photographic-memoried Robert Langdon), was just released and takes place primarily in Florence, giving insight to some of the cooler unknown aspects of the city. Luckily for Noelle, I also possess the same vast amount of knowledge on the art and history of Florence as the book’s hero, so she was in good hands as we roamed the streets. (EDITOR’S NOTE: This doesn’t even warrant a written rebut. You all know.)

We acclimated ourselves by doing what we had in every other place we had gone so far – hit the streets and wander aimlessly. Some healthy snacks A bag of potato chips and a glass bottle of wine later, we’d crossed the Arno river to take in a view of Ponte Vecchio downstream, people-watched on Palazzo Pitti and strolled by the Uffizi, Palazzo Vecchio and Piazza del Duomo. Between the famous sights, we fit in time for our first (of dozens) Italian gelato. I found constantly asking to stop for it with each café we passed as the key to wearing Noelle down. (EDITOR’S NOTE: He’s like a child. I knew he’d sugar crash and need a nap. It was self-preservation.)

Noelle giving the eye to the guy behind the lens on the banks of the Arno.

Noelle giving the eye to the guy behind the lens on the banks of the Arno.

 

The David and a few other statues around Florence.

The David and a few other statues around Florence.

One Florentine custom we’re huge fans of is the “apertivo.” What’s apertivo, you ask? Swap drinks for food with this happy hour where entry to the buffet spread is a single drink. In our case, two gin martinis meant more pastas, salad and focaccia than we could eat. Despite providing small plates to discourage you from overdoing it, Noelle and I didn’t fall for the trick, having no problem going up for seconds and thirds (… and fourths, in my case). (EDITOR’S NOTE: WE’RE AMERICAN. WE KNOW HOW TO WORK A BUFFET.) Another bonus was the friendly couple from New Zealand seated next to us, who by the end of the meal were extending offers to host us when we make our way New Zealand early next year.

The Duomo from up close (top) and dominating the skyline at sunset (bottom).

The Duomo from up close (top) and dominating the skyline at sunset (bottom).

As part of our strategy during this year of travel, we try to stay away from paying admission for various attractions when we can. As such, we opted to skip the Boboli Gardens and the Accademia Gallery, but caved to the Trip Advisor reviewers (they’re everywhere) and decided to check out the Uffizi Gallery, immediately prompting a realization that we’re not exactly what you’d call art people. As we strolled through the galleries our conversations went something like this:

  • Dave: Check out that painting.
  • Noelle: What is it?
  • Dave: No clue, I was hoping you’d know.
  • Noelle: Just look interested, make a knowing “hmmm” noise and keep moving.
  • Dave: Where’s the bathroom in this place?

As we continued walking through the museum, Noelle rarely complained about how much we paid to get in, never obsessing about what else we could have spent that money on. (EDITOR’S NOTE: 6 GELATO! 4 BOTTLES OF WINE! 3 WEDGES OF CHEESE! A TANDEM BIKE RIDE THROUGH THE CITY! A ROMANTIC PICNIC IN BOBOLI GARDENS!) She really did a good job at moving past the cost of admission for our brief walkthrough. Again, can’t reiterate enough how well she really just let it go.

But alas, all was not lost. Despite feeling a bit underwhelmed by our uninformed trip to the Uffizi (in fairness, a guide, and/or any knowledge about art would likely very much affect the success of a visit), one positive was that the Uffizi’s exit spits you out about a half block away from a place called the Prosciutteria, which is exactly what it sounds like. So. Much. Prosciutto. A wooden board of cheese and meats later, and all was right with the world. And upon leaving, we noticed a huge line for a local sandwich joint across the street, so naturally we went back there for dinner. So what was our big takeaway from our enlightening trip to one of the finest art museums in the world? It’s located next to two phenomenal sandwich and meat shops. (EDITOR’S NOTE: Trip Advisor THAT.)

Quality options for post-museum nomming.

Quality options for post-museum nomming.

Florence also brought our first on-the-road “Date Night.” Since we started dating, Noelle and I pick one night a month we trade off planning a surprise date night. Luckily for me, May was her turn. And she nailed it. After enjoying some wine while watching the sunset over the city’s skyline from Piazzale Michelangelo,

Sunset from Piazzale Michelangelo

Sunset from Piazzale Michelangelo

we headed to La Giostra – a cozy, hidden little Italian (duh) restaurant that you could easily walk right by without noticing – where we had one of our best meals of the trip so far. They had brie-filled ravioli… which is one of those things that you don’t realize you’re obsessed with until you actually taste it. Nom. Nom. Nom.

La Giostra - this place did not suck.

La Giostra – this place did not suck.

Just before leaving, we squeezed in a fun stop at the San Lorenzo Market, buying some meats and cheeses, and tasting various olives and biscotti. We also finally jumped at the chance ran out of excuses not to give one of the foods Florentines are famous for a try – lampredotto. Which is cow stomach. We ate a cow stomach sandwich. Seriously. It actually was not nearly as bad as it sounds, but not something I’ll be racing back to anytime soon (EDITOR’ NOTE: Like, ever).

And with that, we made our way through the rain back to our limo to take us through the masses of adorers regional train, sending us off to Siena to explore more of Tuscany.

 

LUCCA, we LIKEU

by Noelle
May 21 – 22

 

After being unable to find a room for an additional night in Cinque Terre, another well-made last-minute decision before catching our train to Florence was a one-night stop in a sweet town called Lucca. Steeped in history, Lucca was home to composer Puccini (Madam Butterfly and La Bohème), and – attention history nerds – the place where Julius Caesar, Pompey and Crassus reaffirmed their political alliance, the First Triumvirate. This was our first adventure in the “show up and find a place to stay” strategy we’ve heard works so well for other travelers. Not so sure we’ll be trying that again. Ask Dave why. He won’t answer because I threatened his life  he loves me, but you’ll know by the fear appreciation of my patience you’ll see in his eyes. After (finally) dropping our bags in a room (ANY ROOM WILL DO I TELL YOU!), we adventured out into this Tuscan town, preserved in time, where bicycles rule the streets and old men are LITERALLY playing chess at scattered tables. Lucca is ringed with its original Renaissance-era city walls of yore, now topped with a 2.5 mile pedestrian tree-lined path (called the Mura), perfect for taking in the feel via a leisurely stroll or bike ride.

Original walls from the Renaissance Era

Original walls from the Renaissance Era

We do our little turns on the cat-walk

We do our little turns on the cat-walk

The Mura

The Mura

Apart from the high ratio of incredibly fit, spandex-clad men running laps around the Mura (although a disappointingly dramatic drop of facial hair than in Spain. Spanish men, like Dave, love their beards), the only scenery to distract you as you circle the city is the sea of similar, but distinct, buildings in its center, broken only by a handful of towers. We had the pleasure of visiting the top of one such landmark – the 14 story Torre Guinigis – where to our delight, we found an oak tree garden nestled on the tiny roof. The views from above provided an even further appreciation for the peaceful beauty of the city.

Views from the climb and the top of Torre Guinigi

Views from the climb and the top of Torre Guinigi

The walls also provided many excellent look-out points to watch the sunset over a bottle of wine, which we were quick to realize should be part of our short visit.  We selected our location and a bottle of local red, and settled in for the show. Currently knee deep in Book 3 of Game of Thrones, I couldn’t help but think of the knights, princesses, or townspeople who watched this verysamesunsetview centuries ago.  I may have also let my mind wander into the possibility of star-crossed lovers using the wall as a rendezvous point after dark, or for a dwarf and eunuch to meet and talk strategy under the guise of a night watch. Fine, enough GOT. Bottom line? The sunset was a picturesque cap to an idyllic day. (Side note – my sister thoughtfully gifted us a portable wine screw that has basically waged war on us each time we attempt to relax with a bottle of cheap vino…we’re currently winning – Dave may say differently as he is usually nominated for the task – but not without sore fingers and a few swear words. Thanks sis!).

Sunset from atop the wall

Lucca sunset

What happens next is something out of I Am Legend. We descend the wall around 9:15 pm. The city? Is empty. Not like, down from 100 to a dozen. Like from dozens to ZERO. After peering around anxiously for flesh-eating zombies, we scrambled down the once pleasantly-buzzing alleys in search of something (ANYTHING) that was open. We finally tracked down a place that had been listed in Trip Advisor as “late-night” (silly us, thinking that meant after midnight), and found refuge with some DELICIOUS tap wine and meat/cheese/olive plate. I flawlessly ordered for us (QUIET DAVE!) in Italian (EDITORS NOTE: Noelle’s version of “in Italian” means waving her arms and making random shapes with her hands while speaking very slowly in English), and we enjoyed a cozy night in a town off the beaten path. Add it to your list if you plan to visit Tuscany (unless you have a zombie and/or Will Smith phobia. You know, just to be safe). Now? Onto Firenze!

Sunset in Lucca

Ciao Lucca!

“Sometimes you just have to climb a mountain…”

by Noelle
May 18 – 21

 

To think, this stop was a “maybe” for several weeks (based on weather and other itinerary possibilities). The powers that be knew better, and we found ourselves on a train from Pisa to Cinque Terre for 3 days of Italian coastal exploration. For those who haven’t seen the picturesque views frequently associated with this 5-town coastline, here is a snapshot:

Manarola...by day and by night.

Manarola…by day and by night.

It’s view after view like this. As we deboarded the train and emerged from the long tunnel into the town of Manarola, we looked at each other and smiled. Love at first sight. It was as if we stepped back in time to a small Italian fishing village with no cars and miles of green that seemed to bleed into the blue skies, interrupted only by the bold colors of the buildings built into the sides of the mountains. During our 3-day stay, we were able to visit all 5 towns that give it the appropriate name of “Cinque Terre:” Monterosso, Vernazza, Corniglia, Manarola and Riomaggiore.  (EDITOR’S NOTE: The phonetic wiz that is my wife pronounces the last one “Rigmarole.” I’ve come to learn that her interpretation of foreign languages has absolutely no rhyme or reason. We’ll get to more of this later.) While each had it’s own allure, we would absolutely recommend staying in Manarola. It’s quaint and one of the smaller towns, but it just feels authentic. The rest of the towns are easily reachable by train, bus, and depending on the time of year/weather, a hike, so you can experience them all in a day or two. Our outdoor space was a highlight, with spectacular views of the water past the town, giving us the perfect opportunity to do what we do best…eat bread/cheese (and in this case, local pesto) and drink wine as the sun sets. Seriously? A mental image that will no doubt become a highlight of the whole year.

Cinque Terre view

Sadly, the area experienced pretty devastating landslides in late 2011, which has forced the hiking trails connecting the five towns along the coast to close while they rebuild. The ones still open included the promised incredible views we had seen in pictures (most notably, the descent into Vernazza from Monterosso), and gave us an opportunity to get the workout we’d both been aching for (I see that reads like sarcasm, but I assure you, it was not – almost a month of bread, wine, pasta and olive oil give you an appreciation for a good metabolism burn). We opted for the “panoramic hike” from our home base in Manarola to Corniglia, and 2 ½ hours later, we arrived with a memory card full of photos and the sweat stains to prove it. Seriously, all views here point to awesome.

Descent into Vernazza from Monterosso

Descent into Vernazza from Monterosso

Some favorite moments...

Some favorite moments…

Added bonus? We ran into my sorority sister, Erin, and her husband Phil on the trail from Monterosso to Vernazza. Literally bumped into them on the side of a cliff. Then naturally celebrated with pizza and local beers/wine.

We are DGs, there was an anchor. What did you expect us to do with this??

We are DGs, there was an anchor. What did you expect us to do with this??

Oh and one small p.s.? Italy charges a COVER for sitting at a restaurant. As much as 3 € a person. What’s that you say? You asked for no bread or water in hopes that would reduce the fee (as that is what the menu claims it covers)? Ah, silly Americans. You still pay. Plus you let that delicious basket of bread sit untouched, sending your plate full of pasta sauce drippings back to the kitchen instead of mopping up every last drop with that crusty Italian bread? Sigh.

And yet, you forgive them, because everything is SO DELICOUS that you want to kiss their hands, versus start a one-sided argument (because of course, you don’t speak Italian, and suddenly, their English isn’t so good). Then you order more wine and all is forgotten.

This place is incredible, and satiated our need for both physical activity and beautiful coastal views after much city roaming. As overheard from our 70-year-old dinner neighbor to his wife at an incredible restaurant nestled near the top of our town, overlooking the water, “Sometimes you just have to climb a mountain to find a place like this.”’

Dinner at Trattoria Dal Billy (incredible fresh pasta and seafood, great view - don't miss it!). Not pictured: 70-year-old man directly to right.

Dinner at Trattoria Dal Billy (incredible fresh pasta and seafood, great view – don’t miss it!). Not pictured: 70-year-old man directly to right.

 

18 Hours in Pisa

by Noelle… or Dave… or one of the hundreds of tourists on the lawn in front of the tower. It doesn’t matter.
May 17 – 18

 

So this happened in Pisa.Leaving with the tower copy

And this.Tower self pic copy

Aaaaand of course this.Leaning Tower

Oh, and we had homemade pasta and gnocchi. It was a good day.

In completely unrelated news, you may want to reconsider any longer-than-2-hour stops in Pisa in your future.

Just saying.

 

Adios, España: Thanks for the memories… and the tapas

by Dave
May 13 – 16

 

It’s not you, Granada. It’s us. You’re pretty, you have some great history. We just weren’t ready for you.

Granada and I got off on the wrong foot. My expectations for what to expect from anywhere we went in Spain were so high after Barcelona and Seville. Our afternoon in Ronda was equally impressive.

Then we arrived in Granada.

Don’t get me wrong, there were still things we really liked about Granada. But before I get to those let me to explain why it was still a tier or two below the previous cities.

Colorful building in Granada

Colorful building in Granada

For us, I think it was just a matter of timing and circumstances. For one, driving around the city to find our hostel was a mistake. Riddled with construction, detours and restricted areas available only for taxis and buses, you can imagine the joy of navigating through the madness with the supposed-to-be-helpful-but-more-confusing-and-annoying GPS that came with our green flash of a rental car. But more than any other reason why Granada didn’t compete with Barcelona or Seville, was our room. The hostel we stayed at was in the right area and was the right price, but the rest left a little bit to be desired (read: windowless). After being spoiled with our apartment rentals in Barcelona and Seville, we came back to reality with one of the more uncomfortable mattresses I’ve slept on, and no A/C or natural light. I know… woe is us. But, that was that

Now for the good stuff.

The fact that the hostel was so cheap allowed us to allocate funds elsewhere, and one of those places we made it rain (about a € 65 drizzle, to be more precise) was a local Arab bath, Hammam al Andalus.

Entrance to the Hammam (no photos allowed inside).

Entrance to the Hammam (no photos allowed inside).

This came on a recommendation from a friend, and it was awesome. For those of you that are unfamiliar with Arab baths, it involves spending a few hours pondering deep thoughts like “Can I possibly be more relaxed than I am right now?” and making tough decisions like “How much longer should I stay in this warm pool before moving to the hot one or the steam room?” or “Which type of oil that I’ve never heard of (or at least don’t understand as the masseuse lists them off) do I want to use for my pre-bath massage?” It was about as stressful as it sounds. Which is to say (again), it was awesome… except for maybe the “that French guy” wearing what may have been women’s spandex shorts which everyone couldn’t avoid seeing due to his affinity for sprawling across the sides of the baths and steam room. That wasn’t as awesome.

Before and after our Hammam experience, we spent plenty of time taking advantages of the FREE TAPAS around town. Yes, free. Just about every bar and restaurant around town gives you 1 or 2 free tapas for every drink you buy. While we’re not talking about five star tapas here, they were free and they got the job done.

Cervezas and free tapas post-Hammam.

Cervezas and free tapas post-Hammam.

When we were in more of a mood to actually purchase our food, we found a great little place that we went to three times in three days (EDITOR’S NOTE: You can imagine whose decision this was.). Two words – Ke. Babking. Or maybe it was Kebab King, I can’t say for sure. I was more focused on the pictures than the words on the menu. These weren’t kebabs on skewers or anything. Just meat, vegetables and sauces I don’t even know the name of that were mixed together in a pita or a tortilla. I’m sure I could Google why they were called kebabs and not just wraps or pitas, but I honestly just didn’t care enough to find out. They were cheap, they were delicious and we ate them. Once a day for three days. And we were not ashamed of that (EDITOR’S NOTE: only one of us was ashamed of this. Again, you can guess whom.).

View from the top of the Albaicin.

View from the top of the Albaicin.

We filled the rest of our time walking around the city, really enjoying the Albaicin area, which looks like it’s own little version of Ronda with all of the white houses and other structures on the hill. There were great views from there of the rest of the city, including its crown jewel – the Alhambra.

A view of Granada (with the Alhambra on the hill on the left) from Albaicin.

A view of Granada (with the Alhambra on the hill on the left) from the Albaicin.

To call the Alhambra a palace and a fortress is accurate (and pretty cool). To call it extravagant is an understatement. As you can see in the pictures, it’s perched on a hill overlooking the city.

A couple of the many fountains around the Alhambra.

A couple of the many fountains around the Alhambra.

The Alhambra was originally constructed way back in 889 as a fortress, but Yusuf I, the Sultan of Granada, converted it into a royal palace in the 14th century. Learning it was once the home of a sultan, we naturally understood that this must have once been the home of Princess Jasmine. While our dedicated search for magic carpets came up empty, we’re pretty sure we felt the magic of the Genie and heard Robin Williams’ voice bellowing off the walls around us. If you don’t get the reference, you’re too young to be reading this blog.

Inside a couple of the courtyards at the Alhambra.

Inside a couple of the courtyards at the Alhambra.

So in the end, Granada wasn’t so bad. It just wasn’t as “up our alley” as Barcelona and Seville were. And if nothing else, it brought us back to reality and tempered our expectations for future destinations in the next year so we won’t have much of a let down.

Seriously though, Granada. It’s not you. It’s us.

View from the top of the Alhambra.

View from the top of the Alhambra.

A Day Trip to Ronda

by Dave
May 13

 

“I feel like I should start this post with a relevant quote.”

Anonymous

After getting our feet wet in Barcelona and Seville, our next destination was Granada. But before getting there, we decided to take a day trip to Ronda, one of the famed white hill towns scattered across Spain. We were not only excited to check out Ronda – well known for being a vacation spot of Ernest Hemingway and Orson Welles, among other things – but I was pumped to drive through Andalusia on the way. And we liked it enough to give it its own post on the blog instead of just a small mention in our Granada post (you can imagine Ronda’s excitement about this decision…).

After a very sweaty walk (naturally) to the train station in Seville to pick up our rental car, we were given the keys to a look-at-me-I’m-not-from-around-here green Chevy shoebox…. err, car. Check out this beauty below.

Our rental car for the day.

Our rental car for the day.

How does the saying go… “It’s not the destination, it’s the journey.” Well, both the journey and the destination were worth it in this case. The drive itself was gorgeous, and it was fun to drive a manual car again while curving around groves of olive trees and farmland that draped over the endless hills in the area. But Ronda was a great payoff at the end of the drive. It’s a pretty striking visual to approach a city where literally every building is whitewashed against the backdrop of green rolling hills and the occasional rocky cliff.

Ronda

Ronda

After taking our first pass through the small city down the main street that runs from end to end (about a mile in total), and enjoying the killer views, we had lunch at the far end in the San Francisco quarter. We discovered a restaurant called Almocábar in an article by a UK professor now living in Ronda, calling it “the best lunch you’ll ever have.” We can now echo this superlative with confidence. It was a bit pricier than most places we’d look at for lunch, but we found a couple items which were easier on the wallet including some sort of fried egg, potato and truffle oil situation that was out of this world. Partially due to the dish you see below, the word “truffle” is now firmly planted on my list of food buzz words that I immediately go to when looking at a menu – right up there with chipotle, aioli and chipotle aioli.

Fried egg, potatoes, truffles... believe us, this was unbelievable.

Fried egg, potatoes, truffles… believe us, this was unbelievable.

After filling up we started the walk back and really started to explore some of the side streets and views around Ronda. The highlight was easily the Puente Nuevo, or “new bridge.” It towers about a canyon the cuts through the town, and the name is a bit misleading.

Puenta Nueva with a beautiful piece of the scenery in the lower right to show the scale.

Puente Nuevo with a beautiful piece of the scenery in the lower right to show the scale.

This might be the only circumstance where something that’s over 200 years old is considered “new,” but it got it’s name because when it was completed in 1793 it was more recent than Puente Viejo (“old bridge”) across town. We took a short hike (cue more sweating) down below the city where you could see the bridge set between two large rocky facades with the city split in two on either side of the bridge.

 

 

Puenta Nueva from below.

Puente Nuevo from below.

Ronda is also home to the oldest bullfighting ring in Spain. When you walk by, it looks much smaller and cramped than the only other bullfighting ring in Seville (the only other one we can compare it to), but the actual ring itself is similar in size and they make that possible by having much more limited seating inside compared to others around the country. While we weren’t able to go inside, I did get this picture below of a bull statue outside the arena with a Spanish flag in the background.

Outside the bullfighting ring in Ronda.

Outside the bullfighting ring in Ronda.

What you can’t see in the picture is that when I walked over to take it I inadvertently got about one foot away from what I thought was a horse statue but turned out to be a real (and enormous) horse. One more step to my left and I would have planted myself in a spot behind the horse that may as well have required putting on a “place hoof here” target on your belt buckle. But lucky for me, Noelle called my name to alert me that the mountain of an animal next to me was indeed real and I backed away. There are a few things that would legitimately ruin this trip for me, and taking a hoof in the… well, that might have ruined the rest of the trip for me. Annnnyway…

Nothing but good things to say about Ronda. It’s a great place for a day trip since you can see most of it after a few hours of walking, but if we go back I wouldn’t mind hiding out there for much longer. The views are great, it has some cool history and character and it’s easy to see why Hemingway would go here to vacation and write. So years from now, when you see my name on the New York Times bestsellers list for the tenth time, you’ll know that this is where it all started.

Seville: Capital of Andalusia, Queen of my heart

by Noelle
May 8 – 12

 

If you’re not reading this, it’s probably because I decided to stay in Seville forever. If you ARE reading this, it means Dave dragged my kicking, screaming body to the train station to continue on our way. You’re reading this, aren’t you? Sigh.

Well, you get the picture. LOVED Seville – the land of tasty tapas, seductive dance, cheap wine, leisurely strolls and patterned leggings/pants…seriously, just rock print on your bottom half and you’ll fit right in. Florals and stripes preferred. You know what, I’m glad you’re reading this just for that incredibly helpful tip. You’re welcome. I even love its teeny tiny Spanish café amerianos, despite the fact that I’m guilt plagued every time I order a drink they named for a nation who insists on watering down their delicious espresso…BUT YES – I’M WEAK, WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!  Also note: the debate between Seville/Sevilla continues, but our Sevillano host (shout out to Raul! are shout outs still a thing?) said either is fine…it’s “Seville” in English, but in Spanish, it’s “Sevilla.” But really? Who cares as long as they keep bringing the scenery like the below…

Rooftop view of the Cathedral bell tower.

Rooftop view of the Cathedral bell tower.

2,200 years old, the city really became super important to Spain upon the discovery of America, providing a safe port (from pirates, etc) for trade with us. And while I won’t USUALLY bore you with a history lesson, I found a few things really interesting. Due to the passage of various “ruling” civilizations, the influence of several different cultures is prevalent in the city’s architecture/customs.  Founded as a Roman city, you’ll find remnants of the ancient walls and columns throughout the city. Then the Moors (Muslims from North Africa) ruled for 6 centuries, giving HUGE influence to the city – you can still see remaining traditions from that time. Finally came the (forced) conversion to Christianity during the Renaissance, so all the synagogues and mosques were converted into churches. The best visual example of this is the main cathedral….the base is built from Roman ruins, with main structure reflecting traditional Moorish style, and at the top, Catholic bell towers. Alright, class dismissed.

EXCEPTONEMORETHING, it was also interesting to hear how much the city had expanded in preparation for the 1929 Ibero-American expo (terrible timing, huh? Not so many Americans traveled over for that one). And yet, that is that which brought us THIS beauty…

Plaza de España is said to be built in this shape and direction to symbolize a “hug” to America.

Plaza de España is said to be built in this shape and direction to symbolize a “hug” to America.

Also proved an excellent reading location…

A girl's got to keep up with her book club...

A girl’s got to keep up with her book club…

Again, we stayed with a host we found on airbnb.com, and again, it was PERFECT. Our 120-year-old home came complete with a balcony overlooking Plaza del Salvador, home to a 700-year-old church aaaaand – wait for it – the most popular outdoor bar for locals! We loved being in the heart of it all and were able to walk everywhere. The same “siesta” schedule (and warm weather) became our friend here, with lots of reading in parks and plazas with cold 40s of Cruzcampo to fill our time as the city shut down each afternoon.

View of the Plaza from our balcony.

View of the Plaza from our balcony.

Steps of Plaza del Salvador

Steps of Plaza del Salvador

If you couldn’t tell from my lengthy glimpse into the city’s history above, we took our first free walking tour (Yes! It’s true! You tip based on the value you felt the tour guide gave. Brilliant. Thanks Poncho Tours!), and as we embarked on our small afternoon tour, Dave starts insisting that this guy in the group is a kid he went to Big Moose with each year growing up (for those who don’t know, this is Dave’s family retreat spot in the Adirondacks with a 20+ year tradition. I’ve been twice, and it’s incredible). I think he’s crazy because we’re in Spain and no way is this the same guy (plus, he is SURE he sees people ALL THE TIME – Iowa’s head football coach? Saw him on Michigan Ave. Sportscaster for a small, local radio station? We saw him in Lincoln Park. You get my point…hard to prove these things…hmmmm?). Well low and behold, near the end of the tour, they work up the nerve to ask each other, and YES, Dan has been teaching English in nearby Malaga and happened to stumble upon a tour in Seville while a visitor was in town. The world is a crazy small place, and a brush with home (aside from, of course, the endless Beyonce H&M ads – nothing says home like Mrs. Carter in a bathing suit, really) was much appreciated!

Friendly face away from home.

Friendly face away from home.

 

And the flamenco! We tracked down a free show (La Carboneria on Calle Levíes – a hard to find alley – is recommended by locals for the most authentic experience) and witnessed the heart-wrenching and seductive tradition rumored to have its origins in this very city. Students, I lied, get your notebooks ready one more time…flamenco may have started in the Triana neighborhood across the river during the time that the gypsies, Moors and Jews were forced out of the city. The influence of these three cultures and music styles collided and now we have flamenco. There you go.

Overall, Seville was a slightly smaller, quieter version of Barcelona…and we couldn’t have been happier with our time there. Full of tapas, delicious wines and cheap beer, beautiful streets lined with storied histories and even a waterfront to walk along. Well played, Seville. Your turn, Granada.

We Should Really Hang Out More, Barcelona

by Dave
May 1 – May 8

 

The first dart we threw at the map landed on Barcelona.

That’s not exactly how we chose it, but it’s not far off.  We knew we wanted to ease into the trip (i.e. not start right off the bat with an African safari) so a modern European city fit the bill. After a quick “What if we started in Barcelona?… Sure, let’s do it.” conversation, we booked our flights and that was that.

Many friends of ours have raved about Barcelona, so we knew we both wanted to see the city for ourselves to see if it lived up to the hype. What we didn’t know was that we’d both fall in love with the city to the point that we could easily see ourselves living there someday.

I think it was Joni Mitchell who once said, “You don’t know what you’ve got ‘til your cell phone’s gone…” or something like that (so ahead of her time, that Joni). We definitely took the quick access to internet and instant communication for granted at home. After hopping on a bus into the center of the city and walking to the apartment we were renting a room from to meet our host, Luciano, at our pre-scheduled time, we found ourselves standing with our backpacks outside the front door just hoping that he would show up on time as he had told us a day earlier via email. No cell service. No internet. No email. Just me, Noelle, our bags, our thoughts, and the stares of passers by.

But sure enough, Luciano showed up and let us in just as he said he would. On our elevator ride up to the room, he turned to us and asked, “How’s your Spanish?” to which I replied, “Mas o menos,” proud of myself for remembering something so quickly off the cuff from high school Spanish. Except I had just told him “More or less,” which made about zero sense as an answer to his question. Off to a good start.

Noelle enjoying some sun on the balcony of our room during our first day.

Noelle enjoying some sun on the balcony of our room during our first day.

The room looked exactly like it did in pictures. We couldn’t have asked for a better living situation to kick off the first stop of our itinerary (NOTE: thinking of traveling and need affordable, but nice accommodations? Go to airbnb.com. Do it. You won’t regret it).  Small private balcony with a table and two chairs… check. Massive local market right behind the building with every type of meat, cheese, bread, seafood, fruit and vegetable you can imagine… check. Walking distance to just about every area of the city… check.

As more of my Spanish came back to me and allowed us to communicate well enough to get by without looking like a complete idiot (we’d save that for other countries later on), we set out and explored as much of the city as we could in the six days we spent there. We walked everywhere. In our entire time there the only time we took any form of transportation other than our own feet was one brief subway ride when we were stuck in the rain across the city at the end of the night. Outside of that, we explored as much as we could in our short time there. We hit the must-see tourist stops like Sagrada Familia and Las Ramblas, and also spent plenty of time weaving our way around every neighborhood within walking distance. Sagrada Familia, along with anything else designed and built by ___ Gaudi around the city, can’t be done justice by pictures and was well worth the price of admission and extra few euros for the audio tour.

Sagrada Familia

Sagrada Familia

But for me, the biggest non-food highlight (more on the food below) of the local attractions we checked out was seeing an FC Barcelona match at Camp Nou. I’ve been a huge sports fan my entire life, and seeing a Barca game was right near the top of my sports bucket list. From having a beer on the lawn outside the stadium as the fans flooded through the ticket gates before the game, to seeing Lionel Messi in his prime (and scoring 2 goals, no less. I got his first one on film from the 500 level: Messi goal), the experience exceeded my greatest expectations. It’s something I’ll likely tell (read: embellish) my grandkids someday, and by that time Messi will have likely scored eight goals and beautifully assisted on 19 others. But I digress…

Camp Nou

Camp Nou

Barcelona makes it easy to never find yourself underfed or even the slightest bit parched. Aside from one dinner of underwhelming and overpriced paella, we ate at some great places, the top two being La Champaneria and Quimet y Quimet (both coming on recommendations from friends and family). The former is found by stumbling down an unassuming back alley, but as soon as you walk in the noise level jumps a few levels, and you’re forced to squeeze through the packed crowd to get up to the counter to order your required two items, most of which included bread, cheese and some sort of delicious meat. And each food order is accompanied by a required (not kidding) bottle of cava, a delicious bubbly wine, native to Spain, for just two  more Euros. Oh, and each time you shout your next order at the chef  behind the counter while stumbling through the Spanish translation for sausage order more food, they give you more cava, no exceptions. It did not suck. The next day we found ourselves standing at the barrel tables at Quimet y Quimet where we nommed on some delicious montaditos (mini sandwiches) and (surprise) more cava. The food is on another level. We’ve dreamed about the salmon, yogurt and truffle honey montadito since leaving (in between the night terrors of our paella experience, of course).

Delicious noms at Quimet y Quimet (top and bottom left); me stuffing my face at La Champaneria (right)

Delicious noms at Quimet y Quimet (top and bottom left); me stuffing my face at La Champaneria (right)

What's that? There are no open container laws here? Don't mind if we do...

What’s that? There are no open container laws here? Don’t mind if we do…

However, these dining experiences actually paled in comparison to the lunches we treated ourselves to by picking up a baguette, some cheese and a cheap bottle of wine, enjoyed in a local park or the balcony of our bedroom. The simple things, amiright or amiright?

Barcelona will always hold a special place in our heart due in large part to the fact that it was our first stop on this adventure. But it also has so much to offer with something for everyone. If you like cities with delicious food and drinks, easy access to water, good local sports, interesting local art, architecture and culture, and/or if you just enjoy a leisurely stroll watching things go by, then you will love this city. And if you don’t like any/all of those things… well, I just feel sorry for you.

 

Welcome!

“Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost”

– Bilbo Baggins

 

photo

From vows to voyage…

We’re a newlywed couple on a mission to get lost all over the world…for 12 months. No simple feat, and we’ll no doubt encounter many obstacles (including several inevitable wrong turns) along the way, but no fear, we do plan to enjoy ourselves every now and again.

We both took leave of our fantastic PR jobs, leaving the agency (where we met, no less!) for the adventure of a lifetime. As a couple in our late twenties (him)/early thirties (her, but who’s keeping track…seriously, don’t), we made the decision to take the “now” route of “now or never,” and haven’t looked back since! We plan to immerse ourselves in every experience possible, be it cultural, food exploration, social experiments, and basically any challenge to our comfort zones (our “bubble” if you will) we can find.

What everyone wants to know is WHY? Yes, leaving our steady paychecks and comfortable lifestyle surrounded by friends and family to live out of one backpack for a year while visiting unfamiliar places where we don’t speak the language might seem a little crazy, but the potential of the regret that would come with NOT taking this crazy adventure was stronger!

For both, it was a lifelong dream…but until we met, the trip was still a hypothetical “it’d be awesome if someday…” Early after we met and knew this would be a forever kind of thing, we started embezzling money putting pen to paper (and promptly destroying any evidence putting dollars in the bank), and eventually picked May 1, 2013 as our departure date. Here’s a more personal peek into each of our mindsets:

He says:

If you’re reading this, you already know… I’ve left Chicago to travel the world with my bride and I won’t be back for 12 months. Excited is an understatement, but even as I write this it still seems somewhat surreal that my better half and I are embarking on this long journey together. While I could go into countless reasons to explain why we’re doing this, it boils down to a passion for travel and a desire to seize a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

I’ve done a fair amount of travel in my life. I spent a semester in Australia, a summer in China and Thailand and have seen a few places in between. But all of those experiences will pale in comparison to what m’lady and I are setting out to do. Over the next year, I’m hoping to fully take advantage of the opportunities this type of trip presents – to travel slowly, to really soak up the local culture in each place we go and embrace the uncomfortable moments and new experiences we encounter. I also expect to be uncomfortable many times (sometimes for no other reason than the excessive sweating that comes with being a Bauer), and I should apologize in advance to the my wife and any innocent bystanders for the inevitable and occasional meltdown along the way. I’m also hoping to gain a little more perspective on my day-to-day life. Oh, and I’m gonna grow a great beard.

At risk of sounding too profound, I think it’s a safe bet that this trip will change me and us forever, and for the better. That’s at least the goal. And with that in mind, here goes nothing…

She says:

Although I’ve traveled abroad several times before this trip (Argentina/Peru/Brazil, half a dozen trips to Western Europe and many an island vacation – the latest, our honeymoon in Bora Bora!), it always felt like the trips were too brief, with schedules full of the “must sees”…not capturing the true cultural experience of each city. I want to spend more time walking the streets, exploring neighborhoods, and visiting local cafes, versus spending all our time in lines for museums and landmarks (which are still not to be missed!). This trip affords us the time to do this. I think it’s natural to experience a lack of compassion when you can’t truly understand anyone unlike you, by the mere fact of not KNOWING many people not like you. I’m determined to burst that darn bubble that growing up, going to school and working in the Midwest created. I want to gain perspective and challenge my status quo. Just a small goal, yes?

Being crazy in love with my travel partner? A (huge!) bonus. Knowing he’ll be by my side each day helped ease my fears about facing the unknown, and I’m excited to see what this experience will bring to our relationship.  There is no one I’d rather get lost with (and if navigation is left to me, we will get lost, and likely not the best kind…which brings me to reason 2 why I’m glad Dave’s with me…).

The blog will highlight our experiences, share photos of the places we go (to assure family we’re alive and well, and we’ve to date resisted our true calling of becoming permanent nomadic gypsies) as well as include recommendations for others who happen to come down with the travel bug – we HIGHLY valued those who provided insight/tips from their travels and want to pay it forward!

Salud!

Noelle & Dave

 

Jack Kerouac