(began August 21st, 2009)
Martin is very sick. I want to scream. I want to take his pain away. I want him to be better. I want to go home. I want to have faith in the doctor’s here in Bruxelles, that they know what they are doing. My heart hurts. I just want him to get better. I am thankful for family right now. Aunt Nancy and Matt have been very helpful in trying to offer suggestions and doing some research in what we can do, what’d be best for him, cost wise, safety, etc.
I feel like I’m in a nightmare and I want nothing more than to get out. Right now!
Martin had claimed he was having some stomach pain. I remember him saying that he was having an “icky, kind of raw” stomach our last night in Paris. We admitted him into the ER after he was bed ridden for two days. He was moaning in agony at the slight touch to his stomach area, having great difficulty at the simple task of standing, pale in the face, eyes heavy…they took his temperature, another indicator of his current status being very low, he had a fever--39 degrees. After conversing with each other the doctors decided to start an IV to cure his dehydration and they ran tests. So many tests. Blood tests. Urine Test.
After about an hour or two passing, which I may say was not pleasant for either one of us, Martin especially, we got the results. He had a severe infection, due to his skyrocketed count of white blood cells. They were not able to, unfortunately, find out where the infection resided until the next morning when the radiologist was in. That meant an overnight in the ER. The nurse, who we were both so thankful for that evening, kept him on the IV, gave him something to break the fever--attempting to make him as comfortable as possible within the next six or seven hours. After waiting for those dreadful hours to pass what seemed an eternity it was time for more tests. They took him to get an ultrasound and returned him back to his room. I felt so vulnerable. I just wanted to help Martin. All he wanted was to start feeling better. But to the different various floors we were sent to wait to do more tests. They were not able to see anything clearly so they took him back up get an X-Ray. Within about three hours they were able to tell us that there was a “blockage” due to severe inflammation within his intestines. Judging by his X-Ray and symptoms, they gave a juvenile diagnosis of “Crohn’s Disease,” or inflamed bowel disease, as they were only 80% certain upon this diagnosis. They would not be able to be certain that he had this disease until he has a colonoscopy.
They put a tube down this throat via his right nostril in order to give his digestive system a break and collect any bile that would be produced. I can not explain how heartbreaking it was to see my brother in this condition. I felt as if I was seeing my Dad when he was sick, flashing before my eyes in slow motion. It was immediately at that point a wall broke between my brother and me. It is difficult to explain, as my brother and I have always been so incredibly close ever since our parents got a divorce. “Just a glimpse,” the thought of losing him, had been thrown into my visions and all we could do was hold each other’s hand, gripping so tightly with the occasional three pulses to remind one another, I love you. Tears began streaming down my face. How was I supposed to be the strong rock for my brother if I was falling apart right before him?
They told us he would have to be hospitalized for one week, definitely, perhaps even two. We were so stubborn to surrender. It was at this point, however, that we knew we had no choice but to realize it is what it is...this is happening, there is nothing we can do, it is in their hands, we must have faith... A majority of our comfort was inhibited by the help of close friends here in Brux--they were angels sent to our rescue. It was relieving to know someone in the area, as well as reassurance in hearing how advanced the medical care was at the hospital. Not to mention the simple fact that the care he has been receiving would be pennies compared to the never-ending bill had he been having this all done in the states. We were lucky in more ways than one, a blessing in disguise had began revealed before our eyes.
It was through the act of surrendering, admitting to ourselves that we can not always have control of life, that ultimately opened our eyes. We may have the capability to steer our lives in a direction, and it is up to us to write a path that sings true to our hearts...However, it is crucial to know the mere importance in always having control of every little thing. It is a task, unfortunately, many know far too well, and it can be so very detrimental to oneself... All we can control is ourselves, and all we can do is have faith that everything will work out. It always does. All things, beautiful and horrible, will eventually pass. It is only when we are patient and surrender the need to control that we are truly able to experience the beauty in life.
Through time, excellent care, antibiotics, and most of all patience and faith...Martin has been getting better day by day. He was able to have his tube removed--the same one that was attempted to be put in three times---and thus able to finally drink liquids by mouth! A sensation he wasn't able to experience for a week. Sweet, glorious water. He has also recently been given the pleasure of eating whole foods, although I think it will be some getting used to as he hadn't had anything run through and digested in his system for over a week... the body still amazes me.
This experience...this eye-opening, soul shaking, life altering experience...has been a blessing for me and Martin. We both came to Europe, ready to put our guards down and open our hearts to the possibility of having this mind-blowing experience...an attempt at truly knowing ourselves and understanding what our calling in life was. In the beginning of our trip, it was all that we could talk about. "What's traveling all about? Why come to Europe? Why am I here? There's nothing special about this place. I want to be excited about it. I want something BIG to happen. I want to find myself. I want to know...." Our wish became a reality. We discovered the beauty of life.
When life seems to flash before your eyes you are immediately reminded what is most important to you, and just how fragile, how delicate, our life is. It is not a given right, it is a gift, one not to be taken for granted. We have had so many beautiful conversations, deep and moving, ending in tears of sadness, joy, but most of all, realization. Life is short. Far too short to not do what is most important to you. We found a love.
Not an exterior love that is materialistic and existing for the mere attempt of just to exist. A love, so deep, within ourselves. Something that is only found in what may appear at your weakest state, but is truly you at your strongest...the most pure. The most important thing we can do, as humans, is to love. Love ourselves, truly, and honor and respect our hearts. Not only because they are what sends a life flow through our bodies, but because it knows what is best. It is the light that illuminates within us all, if we allow it.
Life is about the relationships we hold, with ourselves, with family, with friends, with lovers...it is not something to fear, but to be willing to share. I have never seen anything so beautiful, than the shining light that bounces back and forth, off one another, between two beings. It is by far,unfortunately, the most feared feeling by individuals, and simutaneously the most rewarding feeling when you welcome it into your life.
If I could only be granted one wish, it would be for everyone to experience this kind of love... To not fear it, but to be open to it. Life is too short to fear what does not hurt us, for in all actuality love feeds us strength and beauty. Slow down. Appreciate the special people who surround you. There is nothing more terrifying than the thought of never having another chance at voicing and displaying the love you hold for someone. There is nothing more rewarding than truly breaking down the barriers, unlocking doors you never knew were closed, and truly sharing a love between another being...another soul to share fears, insecurities, dreams, laughter, tears with... And also remembering the importance of sharing that love with yourself, for if you do not guard that shining light it may burn out.
In the wise and beautiful words of my brother, "Do not fear weakness, fear strength. It is only when we are in our weakest state that our true strength is shown."
It is when we allow the floodgates down, the water to come rushing in...that is when our true beauty is luminescent to the world, and oh what a beautiful site it is to see...
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Lièges and Frítes in Brux, oh my!
I sit in our comfortable Sheraton hotel room. I can’t imagine what it’d be like to be staying in a hostel at this point, under these circumstances. Martin has been ill for the past two days, since we left Paris.
We took the train from Paris to Bruxelles, which was far more comfortable than flying on a plane. We had so much more leg room, nicer seats, and it was nice to see the land between the adjoining cities…well as much as I saw, considering I fell asleep for most of the ride. We arrived in Brux to slightly overcast skies and a pleasant temperature. We transferred onto the metro to our stop, “Rugier,” which is quite centrally located. Martin and I wandered around, determined to find waffles, as he had claimed his goal was to eat 62 waffles in our “waffle eating contest.” We finally arrived in the Grand Place area where loads of tourists were wandering about, and the sweet aromas of mixed treats filled the air…and our noses.
First stop, frítes.
Those Belgians sure know how to make their fries! Sauces of choice? Andalouse and Curry Ketchup. MmmmmmmMMMmMmm. (Sidenote: There were also people ordering these sandwiches filled with a mixture of vegetables and meat topped off with, you guessed it, frítes. I must try that before I leave.) After our frítes, we decided it was time to begin our waffle eating contest and top off our bellies with delicious lièges. Oh…My…Goodness!
(Fun factoid: Belgium has two different types of waffles (gaufres). “Brussels” waffles are flat and rectangular, light and airy--resembling the ones that are eaten in the US. “De Lièges” waffles are smaller, sweeter, more dense and have a slightly crunchy, caramelized-sugar crust. aka, Heaven.)
I haven’t had the typical “Belgian waffle,” simply because I’ve had them in the states…so we went for lièges. I’m sure, of course, we’ll try them at least once…but dang, now that I’ve gone liège, I don’t think I can go back.
You have the option of putting beautiful toppings of strawberries, bananas, chocolate, butter, syrup, Chantilly, etc…but we went nice and simple, and it was AMAZING. After stuffing ourselves silly, we stopped at a place called “Sensora” to get a fresh fruit smoothie. Nothing like topping off goodness with greatness…and great balls of fire!
Somehow we really lucked out in staying at the Sheraton, it is so luxurious and I must say, quite “fancy-schmancy.” How our nightly rate is so low, I do not know. But I’m not going to ruin it. We are on the 14th floor. ("Bullshit, people on the 14th floor, you know what floor you’re REALLY on. Jump out the window and you’ll die EARLIER!"….if you aren’t familiar with the late Mitch Hedberg, you really should get acquainted.) The view is wonderful from our room, but even more fabulous is the 30th floor. Yes. We are in the tallest hotel in our surrounding area, meaning we can see everything in a 360 degree view. It’s beautiful. Did I mention we also have the option of swimming in the pool at the top floor as well? Mmhmm. Like I said, luxurious. Martin and I watched the sunset after our food babies knocked us out for an hour or so. It was so refreshing to finally be able to see the sun set, as having been in the bigger cities all of the tall buildings make it almost impossible to do so.
It was at this point that Martin’s stomach started hurting more. He blamed it on the cheese, the stinky old, REALLY old, cheese that he bought at the market in Paris. It may have been that he downed almost the entire block in a day, but who knows. He’s been pretty much bed-ridden since yesterday morning. We went to the pharmacy down the road from us, but between the language barrier and our desperation, I’m not sure we got what was needed. We had a house doctor come by later in the evening…again, language barrier? The man spoke English, but he was so quick to diagnose and leave…I hope whatever he gave will help Martin. It hurts me to see him this way. I haven’t wanted to leave the hotel room very much, simply because I’m trying to make him as comfortable as possible. I’m sure the women down at the little café on the first floor think I’m feeding an entire family, what with buying loads of little bottles of yogurt, Sprite, fruit, etc. I did manage to sneak out for a little bit, I was craving more frítes and lièges.
I’m pretty sure my diet, consisting solely of these two items, will make me the happiest lady on Earth. Fat, but happy. I have fallen in love with Bruxelles, simply because of those two delicious treats. Haha. Oh, and the fact that they have drop-dead delicious chocolates and other sweet treats like Stroopwaffle. I may have to buy a new suitcase JUST for all of the items previously noted…for myself. Ok, I might share with others..a little.
We’re supposed to go to Pukkelpop tomorrow, but that depends on how Martin is feeling. We’ll see. A part of me just wants to take him home so he can get better. While I do want to travel, I also worry about getting everything situated before my (strongly possible) move to New York City at the end of next month. Lots to think about, as if I haven’t already had loads on my mind. I’d like to just shut off my brain that thinks about everything for awhile. That’d be nice. A remote control.
Or maybe, just more frítes and lièges will do the trick…
We took the train from Paris to Bruxelles, which was far more comfortable than flying on a plane. We had so much more leg room, nicer seats, and it was nice to see the land between the adjoining cities…well as much as I saw, considering I fell asleep for most of the ride. We arrived in Brux to slightly overcast skies and a pleasant temperature. We transferred onto the metro to our stop, “Rugier,” which is quite centrally located. Martin and I wandered around, determined to find waffles, as he had claimed his goal was to eat 62 waffles in our “waffle eating contest.” We finally arrived in the Grand Place area where loads of tourists were wandering about, and the sweet aromas of mixed treats filled the air…and our noses.
First stop, frítes.
Those Belgians sure know how to make their fries! Sauces of choice? Andalouse and Curry Ketchup. MmmmmmmMMMmMmm. (Sidenote: There were also people ordering these sandwiches filled with a mixture of vegetables and meat topped off with, you guessed it, frítes. I must try that before I leave.) After our frítes, we decided it was time to begin our waffle eating contest and top off our bellies with delicious lièges. Oh…My…Goodness!
(Fun factoid: Belgium has two different types of waffles (gaufres). “Brussels” waffles are flat and rectangular, light and airy--resembling the ones that are eaten in the US. “De Lièges” waffles are smaller, sweeter, more dense and have a slightly crunchy, caramelized-sugar crust. aka, Heaven.)
I haven’t had the typical “Belgian waffle,” simply because I’ve had them in the states…so we went for lièges. I’m sure, of course, we’ll try them at least once…but dang, now that I’ve gone liège, I don’t think I can go back.
You have the option of putting beautiful toppings of strawberries, bananas, chocolate, butter, syrup, Chantilly, etc…but we went nice and simple, and it was AMAZING. After stuffing ourselves silly, we stopped at a place called “Sensora” to get a fresh fruit smoothie. Nothing like topping off goodness with greatness…and great balls of fire!Somehow we really lucked out in staying at the Sheraton, it is so luxurious and I must say, quite “fancy-schmancy.” How our nightly rate is so low, I do not know. But I’m not going to ruin it. We are on the 14th floor. ("Bullshit, people on the 14th floor, you know what floor you’re REALLY on. Jump out the window and you’ll die EARLIER!"….if you aren’t familiar with the late Mitch Hedberg, you really should get acquainted.) The view is wonderful from our room, but even more fabulous is the 30th floor. Yes. We are in the tallest hotel in our surrounding area, meaning we can see everything in a 360 degree view. It’s beautiful. Did I mention we also have the option of swimming in the pool at the top floor as well? Mmhmm. Like I said, luxurious. Martin and I watched the sunset after our food babies knocked us out for an hour or so. It was so refreshing to finally be able to see the sun set, as having been in the bigger cities all of the tall buildings make it almost impossible to do so.
It was at this point that Martin’s stomach started hurting more. He blamed it on the cheese, the stinky old, REALLY old, cheese that he bought at the market in Paris. It may have been that he downed almost the entire block in a day, but who knows. He’s been pretty much bed-ridden since yesterday morning. We went to the pharmacy down the road from us, but between the language barrier and our desperation, I’m not sure we got what was needed. We had a house doctor come by later in the evening…again, language barrier? The man spoke English, but he was so quick to diagnose and leave…I hope whatever he gave will help Martin. It hurts me to see him this way. I haven’t wanted to leave the hotel room very much, simply because I’m trying to make him as comfortable as possible. I’m sure the women down at the little café on the first floor think I’m feeding an entire family, what with buying loads of little bottles of yogurt, Sprite, fruit, etc. I did manage to sneak out for a little bit, I was craving more frítes and lièges.
I’m pretty sure my diet, consisting solely of these two items, will make me the happiest lady on Earth. Fat, but happy. I have fallen in love with Bruxelles, simply because of those two delicious treats. Haha. Oh, and the fact that they have drop-dead delicious chocolates and other sweet treats like Stroopwaffle. I may have to buy a new suitcase JUST for all of the items previously noted…for myself. Ok, I might share with others..a little.
We’re supposed to go to Pukkelpop tomorrow, but that depends on how Martin is feeling. We’ll see. A part of me just wants to take him home so he can get better. While I do want to travel, I also worry about getting everything situated before my (strongly possible) move to New York City at the end of next month. Lots to think about, as if I haven’t already had loads on my mind. I’d like to just shut off my brain that thinks about everything for awhile. That’d be nice. A remote control.
Or maybe, just more frítes and lièges will do the trick…
Sunday, August 16, 2009
paris, mon cherie.
My brother and I arrived into the lovely Paris on Friday afternoon. It was rather interesting to see the difference between the "country" and "city" sides of Paris (seperated by the plane) while we were still in the air. Sidenote: We flew EasyJet...nice and easy, cheap, like a hooker on...wait a minute. No really though, it was my first time flying EasyJet and quite the experience of walking onto the plane and choosing your own spot. I highly recommend it for those quick hops. :)
We took the RER into the city, transfering onto the Metro to our stop "Pasteur." Don't worry, it didn't smell. We arrived at "Hotel Innova," which had a very friendly gentleman working the front desk. It was kind of a shock to have to change our more familiar Spanish to our not so familiar...whatsoever...French. Bonjour. Merci. Wait, there's more? It is a beautiful language, but very different from the Spanish I had been speaking for almost a week prior to my poor attempt at French.
Our room is lovely. Rustic colors fill the room---gold walls, red blankets, random placements of light oak? Our room is right in front of the street, making it quite noisy but once our windows are closed, it's almost soundproof. Oh, did I mention the bed's are terribly comfortable? It was hard to get used to such nice, squishy beds but I've grown quite accustomed to them...kind of like memory foam.
Our first day or so was spent attempting to recover from time changes, going to bed too late, being exhausted from walking, etc. We would be sleeping in at least til 10am, even later another day. This was sort of a bummer, but it was worth it to get the extra rest. We've had some amazing food, expensive but amazing. On our walk into the heart of Paris, we found this hole-in-the-wall patisserie selling the most beautiful quiche. We ordered a sultry and sweet, naturally. The sweet quiche was heavenly, filled with fig, plum, and apricot. It may have been the cheapest meal we bought, and hot damn was that a warm welcome to Paris. We had our share of sheer exhaustion causing us to stop at the first restaurant we found and therefore needing to pay 52 euros for a meal. Yikes! Happily, however, we finally found out how to order tap water which saved us so much money. It really was worthless to pay 4 euros for a small bottle of Evian water that would be consumed in one swig. "Sir, I'll have 20 bottles of Evian, please."
We were in Paris for a total of four days. I’ve enjoyed staying a bit longer in places in order to really get a feel for it. Obviously you won’t be able to navigate yourself around completely as if you‘re a local, but it’s definitely more familiar and comfortable. You start finding restaurants you like, certain areas, parks, etc. On our first night, after eating our quiche at a local music festival, surrounded by clouds of cigarette smoke (it seems that EVERYONE smokes here) and groups of friends sharing bottles of wine, we wandered the streets attempting to get back to our hotel/find the Eiffel Tower. Without the masses of people, hence it being holiday for almost every local European, it came down to basic instinct and Martin’s “spider like senses.” After weaving in and out of Paris’ streets to a clearing, we were finally able to view the tower and headed straight for it. It is absolutely beautiful--quite a treat to see it light up for the five “leaving you wanting more” minutes every hour.
Other notable sights visited and must see? Cathédrale de Notre Dame de Paris. Hôtel de Ville. Boulevarde du Montparnasse. Champs de Mars. Basilique du Sacrè-Coeur. There was a lot of just wandering, as it was and would have been even more expensive to stay in a hotel, eat meals, AND pay the money to enter museums and such. We attempted, actually, on our last night to go up to the top of the Eiffel Tower--way the hell up there if I do say so myself--but we were too late for the last ride. We then decided we would at least walk up the stairs to the second stage. Word of advice, don’t carry around your guitar (which was played beautifully by Martin earlier along the river at dawn) if there may be the chance you will go into a building, museum, tourist attraction, etc. We were immediately stopped by the security guard who spoke broken Frenglish to us, while simultaneously checking to see if we could enter. Turns out, we couldn’t. Apparently the guitar was a bomb. Or perhaps the strings could have been used to strangle other happy-go-lucky tourists. Even worse, he could walk around with it, hit a small child in the head causing it to plummet to it’s death. We’ll never know, we just got a firm, “NO.”
On a happier note, I found a delicious crêperie (after hearing about the ones Martin enjoyed earlier, as we spent our afternoon solo for our last day in Paris) off of Rue de Montparnasse. AMAZING. The street was overflowing with crêperies, giving me the option to choose one at my discretion. But how was I to know which one was good, I’m not from Paris. I settled on this quaint little “hole-in-the-wall” one by the name of “La Crêperie Bretonne,” claiming to be a crêperie de famille. I sat out on the street, watching locals come by and say hello, tourists drooling over the customers food…if I didn’t feel like I was in Paris before, I definitely did at this point. I ordered the egg, goat cheese, ham and egg crêpe. Absolutely delicious! Their savory crêpes are made with a buckwheat batter, which I particularly like more. I wish cafés in the states would use that idea, it just makes it so much more---savory! Although I was quite full after finishing, I had my eye on the banana nutella crêpe from the very beginning. There was no leaving this place until I had one. I may have been stuffed like a pig--pregnant with another food baby just like in Barcelona--but it was well worth it. I’m craving another one just thinking about it. I highly recommend this crêperie if you’re looking for satisfaction through quantity AND most of all, quality. They even had crêpes with liquor, flambéed…my goodness. Quite the treat if I do say so myself. Perfection for ending my time in Paris.
We took the RER into the city, transfering onto the Metro to our stop "Pasteur." Don't worry, it didn't smell. We arrived at "Hotel Innova," which had a very friendly gentleman working the front desk. It was kind of a shock to have to change our more familiar Spanish to our not so familiar...whatsoever...French. Bonjour. Merci. Wait, there's more? It is a beautiful language, but very different from the Spanish I had been speaking for almost a week prior to my poor attempt at French.
Our room is lovely. Rustic colors fill the room---gold walls, red blankets, random placements of light oak? Our room is right in front of the street, making it quite noisy but once our windows are closed, it's almost soundproof. Oh, did I mention the bed's are terribly comfortable? It was hard to get used to such nice, squishy beds but I've grown quite accustomed to them...kind of like memory foam.
Our first day or so was spent attempting to recover from time changes, going to bed too late, being exhausted from walking, etc. We would be sleeping in at least til 10am, even later another day. This was sort of a bummer, but it was worth it to get the extra rest. We've had some amazing food, expensive but amazing. On our walk into the heart of Paris, we found this hole-in-the-wall patisserie selling the most beautiful quiche. We ordered a sultry and sweet, naturally. The sweet quiche was heavenly, filled with fig, plum, and apricot. It may have been the cheapest meal we bought, and hot damn was that a warm welcome to Paris. We had our share of sheer exhaustion causing us to stop at the first restaurant we found and therefore needing to pay 52 euros for a meal. Yikes! Happily, however, we finally found out how to order tap water which saved us so much money. It really was worthless to pay 4 euros for a small bottle of Evian water that would be consumed in one swig. "Sir, I'll have 20 bottles of Evian, please."
We were in Paris for a total of four days. I’ve enjoyed staying a bit longer in places in order to really get a feel for it. Obviously you won’t be able to navigate yourself around completely as if you‘re a local, but it’s definitely more familiar and comfortable. You start finding restaurants you like, certain areas, parks, etc. On our first night, after eating our quiche at a local music festival, surrounded by clouds of cigarette smoke (it seems that EVERYONE smokes here) and groups of friends sharing bottles of wine, we wandered the streets attempting to get back to our hotel/find the Eiffel Tower. Without the masses of people, hence it being holiday for almost every local European, it came down to basic instinct and Martin’s “spider like senses.” After weaving in and out of Paris’ streets to a clearing, we were finally able to view the tower and headed straight for it. It is absolutely beautiful--quite a treat to see it light up for the five “leaving you wanting more” minutes every hour.
Other notable sights visited and must see? Cathédrale de Notre Dame de Paris. Hôtel de Ville. Boulevarde du Montparnasse. Champs de Mars. Basilique du Sacrè-Coeur. There was a lot of just wandering, as it was and would have been even more expensive to stay in a hotel, eat meals, AND pay the money to enter museums and such. We attempted, actually, on our last night to go up to the top of the Eiffel Tower--way the hell up there if I do say so myself--but we were too late for the last ride. We then decided we would at least walk up the stairs to the second stage. Word of advice, don’t carry around your guitar (which was played beautifully by Martin earlier along the river at dawn) if there may be the chance you will go into a building, museum, tourist attraction, etc. We were immediately stopped by the security guard who spoke broken Frenglish to us, while simultaneously checking to see if we could enter. Turns out, we couldn’t. Apparently the guitar was a bomb. Or perhaps the strings could have been used to strangle other happy-go-lucky tourists. Even worse, he could walk around with it, hit a small child in the head causing it to plummet to it’s death. We’ll never know, we just got a firm, “NO.”
On a happier note, I found a delicious crêperie (after hearing about the ones Martin enjoyed earlier, as we spent our afternoon solo for our last day in Paris) off of Rue de Montparnasse. AMAZING. The street was overflowing with crêperies, giving me the option to choose one at my discretion. But how was I to know which one was good, I’m not from Paris. I settled on this quaint little “hole-in-the-wall” one by the name of “La Crêperie Bretonne,” claiming to be a crêperie de famille. I sat out on the street, watching locals come by and say hello, tourists drooling over the customers food…if I didn’t feel like I was in Paris before, I definitely did at this point. I ordered the egg, goat cheese, ham and egg crêpe. Absolutely delicious! Their savory crêpes are made with a buckwheat batter, which I particularly like more. I wish cafés in the states would use that idea, it just makes it so much more---savory! Although I was quite full after finishing, I had my eye on the banana nutella crêpe from the very beginning. There was no leaving this place until I had one. I may have been stuffed like a pig--pregnant with another food baby just like in Barcelona--but it was well worth it. I’m craving another one just thinking about it. I highly recommend this crêperie if you’re looking for satisfaction through quantity AND most of all, quality. They even had crêpes with liquor, flambéed…my goodness. Quite the treat if I do say so myself. Perfection for ending my time in Paris.
Monday, August 10, 2009
food baby
again with the Metric. she sings to me. i don't know what it is about her. she brings so much booty shaking to me. so much anger. so much release. she's so therapeutic. i sometimes forget, no no, i couldn't forget...how incredibly, necessary music is for me to survive. it's almost my drug, if you want to call it that. it sends chills down my spine, my foot kicking, my head bobbing...it is essential...
now to the baby. i am currently holding one of THEE best meals i've ever had, in my stomach. right now. it's there. starters? a delicious salad. second? a mushroom lasagna with four different cheeses. postre? some OUT OF THIS WORLD banana/toffee/creme in the round shape surrounded by a delicate chocolate shell. all this of course with an INCREDIBLE mint chip ice cream and everything drizzled in homemade, TO DIE FOR chocolate sauce. oh. and some desert that Matt had, an alcohol served with nuts and raisins and dried figs on the side. OH. MY. LORD. it's a baby. oh, and that baby also had like four glasses of white wine. badda bing!!!
today was eventful. after being quite nervous to begin my barcelona journey, i finally got my ass out and saw the city a bit. well, not all of it, just areas. i saw sagrada familia. absolutely breathtaking. and then i took the metro and walked through las ramblas. you'll have to forgive me, the wine is replacing all the correct names with metric's lyrics which are playing in my ears right now. perhaps i should rewrite this tomorrow. oh sweet pleasure of life, how i love thee.
martin will be here tomorrow afternoon, and aunt nancy shortly after. then a delicious meal of gazpacho with the family. yes! my third serving since i've been here. i've had it almost every night. bring it on! it's soooooo good. can't wait to start my adventures with martin. i really think it's going to be just what i needed. thank you life, for being ever so great and full of opportunities for me to enjoy. i can't believe how blessed i am.
salud.
now to the baby. i am currently holding one of THEE best meals i've ever had, in my stomach. right now. it's there. starters? a delicious salad. second? a mushroom lasagna with four different cheeses. postre? some OUT OF THIS WORLD banana/toffee/creme in the round shape surrounded by a delicate chocolate shell. all this of course with an INCREDIBLE mint chip ice cream and everything drizzled in homemade, TO DIE FOR chocolate sauce. oh. and some desert that Matt had, an alcohol served with nuts and raisins and dried figs on the side. OH. MY. LORD. it's a baby. oh, and that baby also had like four glasses of white wine. badda bing!!!
today was eventful. after being quite nervous to begin my barcelona journey, i finally got my ass out and saw the city a bit. well, not all of it, just areas. i saw sagrada familia. absolutely breathtaking. and then i took the metro and walked through las ramblas. you'll have to forgive me, the wine is replacing all the correct names with metric's lyrics which are playing in my ears right now. perhaps i should rewrite this tomorrow. oh sweet pleasure of life, how i love thee.
martin will be here tomorrow afternoon, and aunt nancy shortly after. then a delicious meal of gazpacho with the family. yes! my third serving since i've been here. i've had it almost every night. bring it on! it's soooooo good. can't wait to start my adventures with martin. i really think it's going to be just what i needed. thank you life, for being ever so great and full of opportunities for me to enjoy. i can't believe how blessed i am.
salud.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Castelldefels
(written August 8th, 2009)
It has been a long time since I wrote last, unfortunately, because I couldn’t get my computer to work in London. Funny thing though, I got to Spain and my cousin Matt was able to make it work instantly. So here I am, Espana, Espana!
It is just past 11 o’clock, and it is still quite warm here. Woo! What a change, to come from foggy, London town to hot, humid Spain. I am staying in a small town outside of Barcelona with Matt and Olga’s parents, called "Castelldefels." It is about five minutes away from “la playa.” I am excited to see the beach, it’s been so long! Almost a month now.
London was absolutely fabulous. I’ll have to look back at my journal entries and log them in. As far as my flight into Barcelona, it was nice and short. We got a meal, which makes me bummed that I spent four pounds on what I thought I needed to get because I’d be starving had I not. Silly me, I should have checked before hand. I checked my boarding pass, saw what I thought was “Gate 26.” I waited by the gate, that continued to say “Gate Closed,” for the entire time that I sat on the cold, concrete floor. Thankfully I went to the front entrance, once more, and saw that my Barcelona flight was to go to Gate 24. Ha! I was at the wrong gate the entire time! Had I not gone to the front to check once more, I would have missed my flight! Boy, would I have been upset. That would have been horrible! By the time I finally figured it out and went into the gate, the majority of the flight was waiting to board, only ten minutes later. Close call, Christina!
We boarded onto two buses which took us to our plane. I sat next to a very young couple--I can’t imagine them to have been over 21--from the states. They were with the boyfriends parents, who sat in front of them. I was quite sleepy for the majority of the flight, you know, the long one and a half hour was exhausting! Upon arrival, the majority of the flight went to Terminal A (where we thought we were supposed to retrieve our baggage) only to find that after 15 minutes of waiting we were at the wrong baggage claim! Oy, again! We went on this big goose hunt, searching for Terminal B. Matt had even called me saying, “You’re picking up your baggage from Terminal B, so where are you?” We were sent, by the airport employees, what seemed to have been all the way around the airport, going through the security once more, arriving at Terminal B. FINALLY! We thought for sure they were pulling our chains, sending us in the wrong direction. We finally got there, I saw my lonely bag strolling along the conveyer belt and snagged it before it went away for good. Phew! I met Matt at the front of the airport waiting by the gate and we were off…not so fast! His ticket (which was given in order to pay for the airport parking upon leaving) was not working in the automatic payment area, so that was an adventure all in itself again! Why the world is relying so heavily on machines rather than humans is beyond me!
Finally, we arrived to the flat that Olga’s parents own. Everyone that I met, her tios y padres are absolutely wonderful. Everyone is so warm and friendly. It is frustrating that I can not communicate with them because I don’t speak Spanish. I mean, I did take those three years of Spanish, but give me a break--it's been about 8 years! I find my English is already starting to mix into “Spanglish,” if you will. We had a delicious meal; pollo, arroz, lechuga, and some of Olga’s calamar con gamabas. All so good! Topped off with a little, mini-me sized Haggan-Daaz (sp?). Delish! Which reminds me, before dinner was prepared, Olga had asked me, “Do you eat like your brother,” trying to decipher how much she needed to cook. Haha!! It’s so nice to see familiar, and yet new faces at the same time.
It is quite a different experience being in Spain after two weeks in London. I can’t wait to see what else is in store. I can’t wait for tomorrow. And I can’t wait until martes when Martin and Aunt Nancy both arrive into Barcelona. Family reunion! And the Svec kids will begin to take on Europa! Can’t wait! Hasta luego, cheers…
It has been a long time since I wrote last, unfortunately, because I couldn’t get my computer to work in London. Funny thing though, I got to Spain and my cousin Matt was able to make it work instantly. So here I am, Espana, Espana!
It is just past 11 o’clock, and it is still quite warm here. Woo! What a change, to come from foggy, London town to hot, humid Spain. I am staying in a small town outside of Barcelona with Matt and Olga’s parents, called "Castelldefels." It is about five minutes away from “la playa.” I am excited to see the beach, it’s been so long! Almost a month now.
London was absolutely fabulous. I’ll have to look back at my journal entries and log them in. As far as my flight into Barcelona, it was nice and short. We got a meal, which makes me bummed that I spent four pounds on what I thought I needed to get because I’d be starving had I not. Silly me, I should have checked before hand. I checked my boarding pass, saw what I thought was “Gate 26.” I waited by the gate, that continued to say “Gate Closed,” for the entire time that I sat on the cold, concrete floor. Thankfully I went to the front entrance, once more, and saw that my Barcelona flight was to go to Gate 24. Ha! I was at the wrong gate the entire time! Had I not gone to the front to check once more, I would have missed my flight! Boy, would I have been upset. That would have been horrible! By the time I finally figured it out and went into the gate, the majority of the flight was waiting to board, only ten minutes later. Close call, Christina!
We boarded onto two buses which took us to our plane. I sat next to a very young couple--I can’t imagine them to have been over 21--from the states. They were with the boyfriends parents, who sat in front of them. I was quite sleepy for the majority of the flight, you know, the long one and a half hour was exhausting! Upon arrival, the majority of the flight went to Terminal A (where we thought we were supposed to retrieve our baggage) only to find that after 15 minutes of waiting we were at the wrong baggage claim! Oy, again! We went on this big goose hunt, searching for Terminal B. Matt had even called me saying, “You’re picking up your baggage from Terminal B, so where are you?” We were sent, by the airport employees, what seemed to have been all the way around the airport, going through the security once more, arriving at Terminal B. FINALLY! We thought for sure they were pulling our chains, sending us in the wrong direction. We finally got there, I saw my lonely bag strolling along the conveyer belt and snagged it before it went away for good. Phew! I met Matt at the front of the airport waiting by the gate and we were off…not so fast! His ticket (which was given in order to pay for the airport parking upon leaving) was not working in the automatic payment area, so that was an adventure all in itself again! Why the world is relying so heavily on machines rather than humans is beyond me!
Finally, we arrived to the flat that Olga’s parents own. Everyone that I met, her tios y padres are absolutely wonderful. Everyone is so warm and friendly. It is frustrating that I can not communicate with them because I don’t speak Spanish. I mean, I did take those three years of Spanish, but give me a break--it's been about 8 years! I find my English is already starting to mix into “Spanglish,” if you will. We had a delicious meal; pollo, arroz, lechuga, and some of Olga’s calamar con gamabas. All so good! Topped off with a little, mini-me sized Haggan-Daaz (sp?). Delish! Which reminds me, before dinner was prepared, Olga had asked me, “Do you eat like your brother,” trying to decipher how much she needed to cook. Haha!! It’s so nice to see familiar, and yet new faces at the same time.
It is quite a different experience being in Spain after two weeks in London. I can’t wait to see what else is in store. I can’t wait for tomorrow. And I can’t wait until martes when Martin and Aunt Nancy both arrive into Barcelona. Family reunion! And the Svec kids will begin to take on Europa! Can’t wait! Hasta luego, cheers…
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