With no solution in sight, Ken decided he had to do the only logical thing…break into Nepal.  Ok, so the guard did take pity on us and agreed that Ken should do it and if he made it back, he would let him back in.  So out Ken went, into Nepal without a visa, in search of visa money, while I waited on the visa line desperately hoping that he would not get arrested and that he would make it back out of Nepal and into the airport.  I really did not want to sleep in the arrivals terminal.

The line was long and moved slowly.  Minutes passed.  No sign of Ken.  I started to get worried and tried to catch sight of him somewhere.  Nothing.  Finally, just as it was almost my turn at the visa counter, he arrived!  He was back in one piece, his pockets now full of Nepalese currency!  We could enter the country (legally)!  However, when we tried to pay for our visas we were told that we could not pay with Nepalese rupees because Nepal does not accept Nepalese rupees as payment for a Nepalese visa.  I kid you not.  It was just too much, so we turned around and came home.   Ken had done Nepal anyway.

Not really.  Luckily for us, the money exchange counter DID accept Nepalese currency (at least something went right) and we exchanged some cash into none other than United States dollars.  Finally we were issued visas to enter Nepal.  Since there are no pics yet, and everybody likes kids, here is a gratuitous shot of a little kid feeding/chasing pigeons in Kathmandu:

Entry issues aside, we were excited to be in Nepal.  We planned to spend a couple of days in Kathmandu and then head out on a five day trek in the Annapurna region of the Himalayas.  Nepal is a trekking mecca, and many people travel to the country to trek something called the Annapurna Circuit, which is an 18 – 20 day trek in the Annapurna region.  Given that we had never trekked before, and were possibly not in the best shape of our lives after roaming the earth for seven months without even one stop at a treadmill, we decided on the shorter Annapurna foothills, or Poon Hill, trek.

Before heading out on our trek, however, we would spend a few days in Kathmandu seeing the sights of the city and stocking up on trekking gear which is plentiful and cheap in the Kathmandu area of Thamel.  On our first full day in Nepal, we headed out into the city from behind the walls of our hotel and full on into the insanity that is Kathmandu.  Flying into the city, as I looked out the window of the plane, I honestly could not believe how huge and sprawling Kathmandu appeared from the sky.  On the ground however it appears that the city is just not big enough for all the stores, wares, things, animals and people packed into its buildings and streets.  It is stuffed with people, people walking, riding mopeds, sleeping on the street, selling goods on the curb, pushing like sardines into cabs, transporting huge bundles of goods on their backs, selling tuk tuk rides, asking for money, people coming and going in a bustling manic street scene.  Traffic tangles in the narrow roads.  Animals wander freely around the streets.  The sound of honking car horns fills the dusty air.  Wandering through the market stalls and narrow streets is simultaneously invigorating, astonishing and overwhelming.  We did a short walking tour, past several stupas, through a market and into Durbar Square, Kathmandu’s major tourist site, but really just experiencing the city was an adventure in itself.

The over-crowded markets of Kathmandu:

Here is a “Stupa” in the city center:

And a shot taken in Durbar Square:

While in Kathmandu we also met our sherpa, Timba, who would guide us on our Himalayan adventure, and we were assured by him and the head of the trekking agency that the Poon Hill trek was very nice and “easy” so we figured we would make it through without too much trouble.  Really, how hard could trekking in the Himalayas be?

Aside from shopping and sightseeing, we did not do that much in Kathmandu except hang out in our luxurious five-star hotel, the Hyatt Regency.  This place is an oasis of tranquility in the midst of the frantic city, and in fact, as we ate a gourmet brunch one day while listening to a jazz band in a small garden, I really felt like I was back at the hotel in New Jersey where we got married.  We decided to stay at the Hyatt because we knew we would be returning to the same hotel after our trek so that we could check any extra luggage that we did not want to bring with us into the mountains, and we decided it would be nice to stay someplace luxurious after five days roughing it.  This turned out to be a very good decision.  Here is Ken at the hotel’s “Jazz Brunch”:

Our trek would begin from a place called Nayapul, which is not anywhere near Kathmandu, so after a few days in Kathamandu we flew to another city, Pokhara, and spent the night there before beginning our journey.  Pokhara is a nice enough town, smaller than Kathmandu, not as hectic and on the shores of a very picturesque lake.  Here is a picture of the lake (with people washing their clothes):

When we arrived in the morning we did some sightseeing, which included a visit to one of Pokhara’s main attractions, a cave chock full of hundreds of sleeping bats.  Ok, aside from the lake, sightseeing in Pokhara is really not that spectacular.  When we got to the entrance of the bat cave, the woman at the gate told us we should really bring a guide with us so that we could find the exit to the cave, but we figured we really didn’t need one and declined.  I mean, how hard could it be to find the exit?  As it turns out, hard.  We walked into the cave down a flight of stairs, but for some reason the “exit” is, well, a teeny tiny hole at the top of a sheer rock wall that you have to scramble up in the dark.  I could barely even get up the last part of the wall, and got to know my sherpa quite intimately when he just pushed me up by the butt.  Really, we hardly even knew each other!  The cave was pitch black, the rocks were wet and we could only see because we had flashlights strapped to our head. At some point I realized we should have just turned around and gone out the entrance, but by then it was too late and anyway I did not want to try to climb down the wet rocks in the dark in a cave full of sleeping bats. Here are a few of the bats (there were tons of them in there):

At this point I was rather unhappy and that feeling only increased when I saw the exit itself — or barely saw it because it was so tiny.  I thought Ken was going to get stuck and we would have to pry him out with the jaws of life, which I am sure they do not have in Nepal.  We hadn’t even started trekking yet, and here we were rock climbing in some pitch black bat den.  I really hoped this was not a harbinger of things to come!   Lo and behold, Ken made it out of the cave sans jaws of life and even took a few pictures of the rest of us squeezing up through the tiny exit.   Here I am coming out:

Anyway, none the worse for wear, we spent the rest of the day eating lunch beside the beautiful lake in Pokhara and exploring the town which is full of small shops and cafes, and then went back to our hotel and spent the night trying not to touch anything in our really dirty hotel room.

Ok, I know I told you that we came to Nepal to trek and here I am many paragraphs into this blog and we still have not started trekking.  You might be asking yourself when exactly I am going to get to the trekking part of Nepal.  Quite honestly, that is exactly how we ourselves felt at this point too.  We came to Nepal to trek and so far had spent alot of time doing everything except trekking.  Lucky for you, I will begin the trek in the next paragraph and you will not have to take a two hour taxi ride to get to the beginning of the trail.  Like we did.  In a really small cramped smelly cab.

But finally, we were there.  Here.  The beginning of our trek.  Hooray!

Now, looking back, I realize that trekking is a bit like marriage, and on that first morning as we set off, we were enjoying a trekking honeymoon.  We began following a relatively flat dirt path along a bubbling river.  As we walked the sun broke through the clouds and the cool morning mist faded as the brilliant blue sky sparkled above us.  We passed by a beautiful cascading waterfall, over and through winding brooks and alongside field after field of golden hay.  We passed a group of kids trying to shake a friend from the top of a pole, another group of youngsters made a game of jumping over hay bales and still others harvested by riding on a small plow behind a lone black mule.  Birds twittered and danced in the tree tops.  Occasionally as we walked we would come upon a group of mules or horses carrying packages up into the higher climes, alerted to their presence by the tinkling of bells that they wore around their necks.  Ah…I loved trekking that morning, trekking was fun and easy and beautiful and flat.

Here are the kids playing their game of shake the pole until the kid on top falls off and breaks his neck:

And a shot of one of the many farms:

About two hours into our glorious trek, we came upon some stairs and began going up.  I did not think much of it.  The scenery continued to hold all of my attention and distract me from the incessant upward climb.  As we climbed up and up, we walked amongst terraced farmland cut deeply into the steeps, held in place by stone walls that wound and wandered across the green mountainside.  If I had bothered to pay attention, instead of gaping in awe at the scene surrounding me, I might have noticed that there was no end in sight to the stairs we were climbing.  After an hour climbing, we stopped for lunch still unsuspecting about how many more stairs we would have to endure before reaching our lodge for the night.  We happily chowed down on a delicious meal, reveling in the sunshine and the spectacular views.  What were a few stairs?

Here I am making my way up the endless stairs:

Here is a shot of the mountains which have been ‘terraced’ for farming:

Let me take this opportunity to introduce you to our porter.  As is customary with trekkers in Nepal, we hired not only a guide (our sherpa, Timba) to lead us on our trek, but also a porter who was charged with carrying our big backpack with all our stuff for our five days in the mountains.  We packed as light as possible (notice the lack of wardrobe changes in the pictures), and our sherpa even told us our bag was very light, saying it would be “too easy” for our porter.  We have a few pictures of our porter carrying our bag. You can decide whether it looks too easy.  Personally, I barely made it up the mountain carrying just my little day pack.  But then again, the Nepalese are strangely and remarkably strong.  Here he is in front of me:

Our porter’s story, however, does not begin and end with carrying our bag.  Before joining our little expedition, he and our sherpa had spent a few weeks on an Everest trek with a large group.  After that trek, our porter had gone home to Lukla, which is a plane or bus ride away from Kathmandu.  When he got the call that he was needed for our trek, the agency could not get him a plane or bus ticket because it was high tourist season and nothing was available.  Undeterred, our porter walked (yes, walked) for three days to get to a place where he could catch a bus to Kathmandu, so that he could meet up with our sherpa for the start of our trek, so that he could carry our stuff for another five days of walking.  Keeping this in mind…

We finished lunch and continued our upward climb for about three more hours.  There were stretches here and there where we walked on flat ground, but they were few and far between.   Ken and I were still enthusiastic, but we were getting tired.  We were hoping as we rounded every bend that we would finally see Ghandruk, the village where we would stop for the night.  I have to say, though, that the experience of the trek was not diminished by our fatigue.  The air in the mountains is crisp and clean, the sun continued to shine.  Vibrantly colored wildflowers hung romantically over rooftops and flourished madly upon the quaint stone walls that lined our path through the mountains.  Eventually we stopped for a rest near two women selling oranges out of a large wicker basket.  The fresh, succulent oranges were the perfect treat and so savory and juicy we couldn’t help but have seconds.  Here I am with Little Spree taking a breather:

But even after two oranges and a half hour break, I was still absolutely spent.  I did not want to keep walking up stairs.  The path wound around a corner and we thought for a minute the upward climb was over, but no!  We hit another section of stairs and continued upward.  Finally, about the time I was pretty sure I was not going to make it any further, we entered Ghandruk.  Hooray, we were there!  Unfortunately for us, our lodge was at the highest point in the village, normally a prime location because of the view, but less than ideal when all you want to do is collapse, and so we continued walking up for a final half hour that nearly did us in.  That half hour of walking was painful both physically and mentally.  I could hardly walk by the time we actually arrived at the door of our lodge, having developed some sort of knee problem during all those hours of walking up and up and up, and Ken was in just about the same condition.  So much for the “easy” trek!  Our sherpa wanted to take us on a tour of the village once we checked in, but we declined because it involved moving off the bed.  Our porter thought it was really funny that we were so tired, so maybe we were just trekking wimps.  I didn’t care…all I wanted to do was eat and go to sleep!  Here is Ken in the room trying to keep warm:

The lodge we were staying in was typical of what we would encounter on our trek — very basic with no heat, but it did have a hot shower.  That shower in the dingy, dimly lit bathroom was probably the best I have ever taken in my life.  And although I did not feel exactly rejuvenated afterward, we did have enough energy to make it through dinner without falling asleep in our food and hit the sack at the respectable hour of 7 p.m.  We had made it through day 1, barely.

Day 2 was a little easier, since we only trekked for about 3 hours and this time through more varied terrain.  We even sometimes trekked downhill, which was nice, but inevitably meant we would have to go back up.  The terrain changed as we gained altitude and we walked through a forest of big leafy green trees that had large bendy trunks and branches that reached in odd directions.  We passed a group of white monkeys playing in the woods and as we ascended we started to get glimpses of the snow capped peaks on the horizon.  That evening at our lodge Ken and I and all the other guests huddled around the dinner table because it was FREEEEEZING.  The table was heated underneath by hot coals and had a blanket hanging around the edge to keep you warm.  It was so cozy and not at all a fire hazard.  We slept fully clothed in sleeping bags with two extra down blankets on top of us.  Actually, I really should say I slept.  Ken wasn’t feeling well and was up all night with a pounding headache.  At 3 a.m. he went outside to get some air and then woke me up to come look at the stars.  We were in the middle of nowhere and the multitude of stars lighting the night sky was astounding.  In the morning, Ken was on the fence about whether he could continue trekking, but decided that he could do it after watching the sun rise over the stunning mountain view.  This picture was taken in the morning before heading out again:

I would like to say on Day 3 things started to get easier, that we started to get into a trekking rhythm, but that would be a lie.  Every day was completely exhausting.  But then again, every day had something — some spectacular view like this…

…some small waterfall…

…some chicken hiding out under a table…

or cat basking in the sun or girl walking by in her uniform and flip flops on the way to school – that made the trek completely worthwhile.  The views of the mountains in and of themselves are reason to do a trek like this, but also the chance to see how the Nepalese live in this area is captivating.  In the lower regions of the mountains, we trekked through farming villages but at higher altitudes the locals seemed to organize their livelihood around tourism.  Small stores and restaurants were spread sporadically along the trail.  Just when you started to hear your stomach rumble and you needed a snack you would round a corner or reach a plateau and find a little store where you could buy a snickers or a small restaurant where you could sit for a hot meal and some Nepalese tea.  The food at the trail side restaurants was cheap and good, in particular the local Nepalese dish Dal Bhat which consisted of rice, vegetables, lentils and bread, and all you could eat refills of any of the above.  There were no roads where we were in the mountains, so you would often see Nepalese people walking by carrying incredibly large loads up and down the mountain — hay bales, big cages full of chickens, camping gear — and usually just wearing flip flops.  And in every village you can find a lodge to stay the night, with a hot shower, a home-cooked Nepalese meal and no heat, but a few extra blankets to keep you warm.  So I have to say that even though I was suffering a bit physically trying to get through the trek, it was incredibly rejuvenating just to experience such a different place and way of life.  Here is a picture of one of the mountains taken through our window in one of the boarding houses:

And this is how the porters generally load themselves up – our porter is on the left and clearly has it easy compared to that other guy:

On Day 4 we finally climbed to the top of Poon Hill, which was the point of highest altitude we would reach on our trek, some 3200 meters.  I personally had a rough time.  We had to wake up before 5 a.m. so that we could make the hour trek to the top of the hill to see the sun rise.  I am not a morning person and I was all layered up because it was still dark and freezing and I was carrying our little video camera in my backpack.  Sadly, halfway up I had to hand over my pack to our sherpa.  I was so out of breath he got concerned and made me sit down for a rest which was rather embarrassing considering our porter had been carrying our large heavy backpack for 4 days without a complaint and often leading the way!  Cross that one off the new career list.  But we finally made it to the top and drank hot tea and waited for the first rays of sunlight to hit the white peaks that stretched out before us.  From the top of Poon Hill you can see the entire Annapurna mountain range, and I although I can’t remember the names of all the peaks, I do remember how beautiful it was to see them turn pale pink and then white as the sun lifted over the horizon.  Sunrise on Poon Hill:

And here we are with our Sherpa and Porter – not the best pic but the only one we have:

Just after sunrise:

After our Poon Hill excursion, we headed back to our lodge for a hot breakfast and then started the long two day trek back to our starting point, back through the forest, down many jagged stairs cut into the mountainside, down through the terraced farmland.  We passed a group with an injured woman who was being carried down the mountain in a basket on the back of a Nepalese man.  I could hardly believe my eyes.  We passed by a group of mules wearing big feather headdresses, sheep being sheared in a large field, a mother hen with three of the tiniest chicks I have ever seen, and a group of baby lambs bleating and running up and down the perilous stairs.  Perilous to us, perhaps, but at one point I turned around and saw our sherpa walking down the retaining wall on the side of the path.  I guess for him this was just business as usual.  On our final morning of trekking, we finally reached flat land again and the bubbling river, which we traversed on rocks, taking the lead from two local Nepalese women carrying baskets on their heads.  We stopped for one last juicy fresh orange and then it was time to head back to Pokhara and the airport and Kathmandu and our five star hotel.  Here are a couple of shots from our last day:

Passing through a small village:

Another small village:

Crossing over a stream:

And finally, some farmers working the fields:

My thoughts on trekking in Nepal?  Go and do it!  I may not be heading back anytime soon to hit the full Annapurna Circuit, but there are many shorter treks to conquer.  Although at the end of five days I felt beaten and bruised by our short and easy trek in the Himalayas, I’ll be back.  The country is too beautiful to visit only once.

Ok, so here are the pictures for Nepal:

http://flickr.com/photos/23884143@N06/sets/72157610611772073/show/

And as an extra, this link should take you to a blown view of a picture I took.  I don’t remember why I took it but if you look in front of our porter you will see the injured woman Krysten mentioned sitting in a basket.  She is being carried all the way out by her porter because she injured her knee.  The guy carrying her probably weighs 150 pounds max and he basically kept pace with us.  These guys are pretty amazing.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/23884143@N06/3079329668/sizes/o/in/set-72157610611772073/

Our first stop was Delhi.  Delhi is a huge city which is seriously crowded and bustling.  Streets are packed with beat up buses, beggars, shops, food stalls, touts offering everything under the sun and cars trying to run you down (well, not really, but it feels that way).  There is so much going on it makes your head spin and your adrenaline pump.  When you get back to your hotel room at the end of the day you feel exhausted even if you’ve only been out for a few hours.  Lucky for us, we decided that instead of staying at the four or five star hotels we would go to more of a “homey” place owned by a local couple.  Turned out to be a good choice.  They had a nice roof-deck with a restaurant/bar that allowed us to escape from the madness of Delhi each night.  But best of all, we were also invited to their Diwali celebration.

Diwali, also known as the Festival of Lights, is a big holiday in India which runs for a few days but culminates on a full moon.  I think it has something to do with the celebration of the victory of good over evil.  Feel free to Wikipedia it for more info.  Anyway, being the Festival of Lights means one thing – Fireworks.  So, I expected to see a few fireworks, maybe one major display like the Macy’s display, and then a few firecrackers later on.  Not exactly.  They are really, really, really into the fireworks thing.  Every person seemingly has his own arsenal.  It started shortly after dark and continued unabated literally for hours.  It was uncoordinated which meant that you would be watching something a mile away and then something would blow up twenty yards to your right jolting the crap out of you.  It was pretty awesome and we were taking it all in from the roof-deck, eating our Indian cuisine, lighting our own sparklers and watching our host light of his own fireworks.  All in all, a pretty cool night.  Here is Krysten trying not to burn her face off:

And here I am showing off my awesome new dot on my forehead (I never asked what it meant even though I had a few of them during our stay – asking would’ve made them think I didn’t know…):

Sightseeing-wise, to me, the attraction of the city is just walking around, dodging livestock and buses, and people watching.  Unfortunately, I don’t have too many pictures of the madness because it seemed a little odd to snap pics of people on the street.  We hit up the Red Fort which was originally where the Royal Family resided but I think is better known for the Mughals who built much of it.  It’s pretty massive and well preserved.  Here is a shot of the front gate area:

And here is Krysten hanging out inside:

We also took a little time to hang out near the India Gate which is a park area that gives you a reprieve from the crowds, and checked out the Museum of Modern Art which was great but means you have to walk across a six lane road on pain of death.  Each crossing took us about twenty minutes.  It’s like playing a game of human Frogger.  It’s nuts.  This is the India Gate:

And the surrounding park where some kids are trying to play a modified form of cricket:

There are obviously many other things to see and do in Delhi but I’ll take a moment here to mention the best thing about India – the food!  I was totally freaked out about getting my proverbial ass kicked food-wise but my worries were unfounded.  Almost every meal we ate was fantastic.  I would be remiss however if I didn’t mention my new golden rule of traveling – know your exchange rates and watch those zeros.  After a day of exploring Delhi Krysten and I found ourselves at the Imperial Hotel where, as our Rough Guide put it, they have maybe “the best restaurant in Asia.”  We checked the prices and entrees were only about $10-$15 so we figured we’d try it out.  Yeah!  Only, we had to kill an hour first so we decided to get a bottle of wine.  The waiter made a suggestion to me and I did my mental calculation of the price and it looked cheap – sweet, what a coup this night was going to be!  Corollary to the aforementioned golden rule of travel – never let me make decisions.  Turns out, the wine I picked was $150 + tax and tip which left it around $180+!  (Krysten picked up on it but just thought I was in a celebratory mood.  She should know better by now!)  Unfortunately, I didn’t even like it.  I left half a glass on the table and slunk out, a beaten man.  This is me with my crappy wine (do I look like a guy that wants a $180+ bottle of wine):

Oh yeah, as for the food, it was pretty good but to claim it was the best in Asia would be a radical departure from reality.  (Nothing beats Otto’s as far as I’m concerned – a small shack on the beach in Koh Samui with $2 dishes of fried rice with chicken and pineapple as well as cheap beer!)

Ok, so after Delhi we headed to Agra to see the Taj Mahal.  We decided to take a train but unfortunately we couldn’t get on the high speed train we wanted so we had to leave at 5:30 am on something that looked like it was built before trains were invented (if you saw this thing you wouldn’t be thinking “that’s impossible” right now).  The train station itself was something of an adventure as well.  After being accosted by touts trying to sell me tickets outside (they like to tell you that the ticket office is closed inside and steer you somewhere else – they even grab on to you sometimes) and winding our way closer to the ticket counter we learned that there really isn’t an appreciation of “personal space” here.  We encountered this throughout Asia but this was another level altogether.  Our counter was on the far side of a line of people and we were perplexed about how to break through.  The people lined up by standing behind one another putting their hands on the shoulders of the people in front of them and pressing into them with their bodies.  There was literally body contact from shoulder to toe.  It’s pretty amazing – luckily, not our line because I couldn’t have done it.  We eventually found the end of the line and squeezed around the back of it to get to our destination…

The trains are an experience in and of themselves with people jamming into the non-first class cars like you wouldn’t believe.  We had sleeper bunks which gives you a decent amount of space though.  When we got on, someone on the train told us we could get a fresh bedroll from the boy working on the train.  We asked him and he grabbed a used set of old sheets and blankets off some other bunks, folded them up and handed them to us.  Sweet!  The bathroom is basically a hole in the floor that goes right onto the track.  Strangely, despite all of this, it wasn’t a bad experience overall and as a few people have told me, you haven’t traveled in India until you’ve taken the trains.  Luckily, we were only going a few hours away (so we didn’t really need the bed rolls) and we arrived in Agra no worse for wear.  Here is Krysten sitting on her bunk (top bunk to be precise):

So Agra is somewhat of a beaten up town and you really go here for one reason and one reason only – the Taj Mahal.  Part of me debated whether it was worth it to go all the way here for one day just to see a heavily touristed site like this but you can’t really go to India and not see the Taj Mahal so we bit the bullet.  Well, it was completely worth it.  As we approached we were swarmed by vendors selling every crappy souvenir you could imagine.  One guy was seriously giving me the hard sell on neckties (a seemingly odd choice).  We were happy to reach the security checkpoint to get away from them when the unthinkable happened – Racial Profiling!!!  Now, normally in India, racial profiling happens everywhere only it’s in reverse – if you’re white Americans like us, you just get waved through…  This was much more sinister and I was personally embarrassed and appalled.  I’m sure by now you’ve figured out what happened.  Yep.  Little Spree was denied entry into the Taj Mahal!!!  No – I’m not joking!  He was of course devastated and we were forced to leave him in a locker outside.  I guess they thought that since he was plastic that maybe he could be a plastic explosive or something?  I have no idea.  Anyway, we will make bad parents one day because we went in without him.  Here we are at the entrance:

So, in case you don’t know the story of the Taj Mahal, here is the condensed version:  It was built in the 1600s by an emperor during the Mughal period as a mausoleum for the emperor’s third wife who died during the birth of their fourteenth child (no wonder – fourteen!!!).  He is said to have been completely grief-stricken and spent a vast fortune to build it.  There was supposed to be another one behind this one across the river and it was to be in black but I think he ran out of money.  The emperor and his wife are both in the tomb today (the whole white building is basically the tomb).  The Taj from the entrance:

There are two mosques (I think that’s what they are) on the sides which are impressive by themselves.  Here’s part of one peeking out:

This is in the front of one of the side mosques – it has a very “walk into the light” quality, no?

The only other stop for us in Agra was the Agra Fort.  The irony of this place is that the emperor who built the Taj Mahal was later imprisoned here by his son who thought he was wasting their fortune and was unable to rule the country in his despair.  So, in an ironic twist, he was held here where he could see the Taj Mahal daily – sort of a constant reminder of what he once was.  Here is Little Spree checking out the Taj Mahal from the Agra Fort – sadly, like the emperor, as close as he would get:

And here is the front of the fort – looks an awful lot like the Red Fort in Delhi:

Ok, nothing else to report from Agra.  From here we decided to head to Jaipur in Rajasthan.  By car.  Yikes.  If you can avoid it, traveling by car is not recommended in India.  There are basically no rules, people walk right in front of the vehicle, drivers seemingly have no idea that other cars exist and livestock often wanders around in the middle of the road.  This drive was actually not too bad but we took a car in Kerala that I was pretty sure would lead to somebody’s death – hopefully not ours.  Anyway, it’s something that is indescribable so I’ll stop trying to describe it.

We decided again to forego the chain hotels and, this time, to skip the city itself and stay at a ‘retreat’ outside of Jaipur for a few days.  It was an eco-friendly B&B type place basically in the middle of a rural farming area.  It was a great pick.  The owners are retired consultants from Mumbai (here’s to hoping all is well there) who opened this place on the ancestral lands of the husband’s family.  We spent a fair amount of time sitting, eating and talking about India, America, politics, etc. with them and it was a great experience.  In fact, we stayed for four days and never bothered to go into Jaipur.  We were kind of ‘citied-out’ anyway.  We also hired a guy to take us through the local villages on the back of his camel-cart (basically a wagon tied to the back of a camel).  As we went through the villages we took a ridiculous number of pictures because as soon as they saw the camera the people all wanted their pictures taken.  A few times we were swarmed.  Nobody out there speaks any English (including our camel dude) so not a lot of conversation took place – only charades.  Well, there was one guy who spoke a little English but I hope he didn’t understand too much because I think I invited him to stay with us here…  Here are some of my favorite shots:

Lady from the first village who was working the fields:

Young guy in the foreground at a farm – I like this one because you can see the prior generation behind him and almost see the old guy as the young guy in thirty years:

Old lady and her son:

Krysten being mobbed for pictures:

One of the village elders (not sure what to call him but it seemed that he sort of ran the place):

And finally, a lady with her baby – I like how everyone else came out blurry in this one:

There are tons more in the slideshow from this day so feel free to check ‘em out.

So, that’s basically the “Golden Triangle” of India and it’s the part almost every visitor will have on his or her itinerary (with good reason).  Next stop for us was Goa for a little beach time.  We flew down to save time and to avoid train travel (we’re getting whimpy lately) and booked a few days at the Leela Hotel which is similar to a Four Seasons but without the price tag.  (Actually, I think it was somehow related to the Four Seasons at some point.)  I don’t have a lot to report from here other than we ate a lot and it was good.  Here I am by the pool which is where I spent most of my time:

After Goa we headed down to Kerala on the advice of my friend Chandan (in fact, many of the things we did were based on his advice so if you’re reading this – thanks again and the first round is on me).  Kerala would prove to be our favorite stop in India.  It’s more laid back than the other areas we were in and it’s simply a beautiful place.

First stop was in Thiruvananthapuram (try saying that ten times fast – or even once slowly) which is where the airport is.  We didn’t actually stay there or see the city.  I just wanted to throw that name out there…  We actually stayed in Kovalam which is another beachy area.  We intended to do some sightseeing but I had a lingering headcold so we stuck close to the hotel (and the pool).  Boring to read about but perfect to do.  From there we booked a backwater cruise on a houseboat in Kollam which is a couple of hours North.  We covered this distance by car which was one of the most harrowing rides of my life.  I tried in vain not to look but it’s impossible.  I’d give you anecdotes about the ride but they wouldn’t do it justice.  Anyway, by the grace of god, we arrived without incident and hoped on our boat.

The Kerala houseboat tours are on most people’s itineraries when visiting Kerala.  There is basically a vast network of rivers and lakes in the area and you can rent a private houseboat to take you throough and visit villages etc.  You get a crew to drive the boat and a cook to make the meals and even an air-conditioned cabin for sleeping.  Some people go for a few nights but we decided to do a one nighter instead because we wanted to have a few days in Cochin before heading to Nepal.  This is a picture of what the boat looks like – it’s somebody else’s boat but looks similar to ours:

Anyway, we started out on a lake and watched the local fisherman get their daily catch.  There are numerous chinese fishing nets which use a system of counterbalances to drop the net down and get it back up – more on this later.  This is what the Chinese fishing net looks like:

There are also old school fisherman that drop nets by hand and pull them in the same way as you can see here:

Next we hopped onto a canoe and went into one of the villages.  The villages basically developed around the many systems of canals which you can cruise through.  The scenery is amazing.  The canals are quiet and there wasn’t a ripple in the water which made it look like glass. Here is a shot:

The canoe we were in was pushed with a pole by a kid probably in his teens.  He said he had never left his village before which, when you see how small it is, is pretty hard to fathom coming from where we do.  People do their laundry and bathe in the canals and you feel as though you’ve been transported to another time.  Laying out the nets:

And here is the local market:

After that we tied up for the night and spent the night on the boat.  Krysten slept fine.  I had a hard time sleping because I could hear a rat or something between the walls and it was constantly chewing on something or scurrying around.  Ugh!

The next day we headed up to Cochin (again by car – we never learn) to spend our last few days in India.  Cochin is an old fishing village, covered in Chinese fishing nets, and is famous for Kathakali, which is a form of classical Indian theater. We spent the first couple of days exploring the town, checking out the cafes and the sights.  It’s relatively low key.  There is a Dutch museum, lots of shops, vendors selling the day’s catch and stalls to cook it up for you.  There used to be a sizeable Jewish community but not anymore.  However, there is still a Jewish synagogue there in “Jew Town” as they call it built in the 1500s as well as St. Francis Church built in 1503, which is the oldest European church in India.  Here are some guys working the nets – the guys walk around to swing the balance far enough to pick up or drop the nets (you can see the counterbalances hanging near the top right of the photo):

As for the Kathakali, we decided to go to a theater attached to a school where students learn Kathakali (believe it or not it is a six year program) and the graduates put on a performance.  It lasts about an hour but the full performances can go all night.  That’s probably a bit much for me…  Here are the actors putting on their makeup:

(Editorial note:  I have about thirty pictures of them getting ready so be forewarned when you hit the slideshow and get your finger on the fast forward button.)  The characters wear heavy makeup and costumes and perform a sort of dance with lots of detailed gestures.  Each gesture has a distinct meaning which tells a story.  They did a demonstration beforehand to show how it works but it would be impossible to decipher without having the story in front of you, which we did.  Good show.  Here is a bad picture (flash prohibited) during the show:

So, that about wraps up India.  All in all, a great stop.  There are things that deter people from going (like not being able to drink the water, tales of Delhi-belly, crowds, and it’s generally the country that safety forgot – people crowd and push you around, they ride on top of trains or hanging out the doorways, they cross streets without looking etc.) but in my opinion the goods definitely outweigh the bads.  (Although, one thing they have to stop doing over there is re-using straws.  They bring out a glass with a bunch of unwrapped straws in it and if you look closely you can sometimes see droplets of soda still sitting in there.  Nasty!)  Anyway, here are the pics from:

Delhi:  http://flickr.com/photos/23884143@N06/sets/72157610333124355/show/

Agra:  http://flickr.com/photos/23884143@N06/sets/72157610253373827/show/

Rajashtan:  http://flickr.com/photos/23884143@N06/sets/72157610132812474/show/

Goa:  http://flickr.com/photos/23884143@N06/sets/72157610679275422/show/

Kovallam:  http://flickr.com/photos/23884143@N06/sets/72157610679319068/show/

Kollam:  http://flickr.com/photos/23884143@N06/sets/72157610411839593/show/

Cochin:  http://flickr.com/photos/23884143@N06/sets/72157610665358482/show/

Next up, Nepal!

Ciao

The Giza Pyramids are literally right on the outskirts of Cairo.  As we drove down traffic snarled Pyramids Road, I was surprised when I glanced out the window and saw a majestic pyramid rising above the rooftops of the surrounding apartment buildings.   The urban sprawl stretches right up to the concrete wall and barbed wire fence that marks the beginning of the Pyramids Zone, where building is prohibited.  This initial peek really did not prepare me for the sight that awaited us once we entered the actual Pyramids Zone.  I was riding a camel, Ken was on horseback and we rode into an area of desert and up a sand dune.  This is apparently the back entrance to the area, and it felt like we were the only ones visiting the Pyramids that day.  As we rode up the dunes and looked over to our right, there sat the amazing Pyramids of Giza, silhouetted against the sky and the desert sand as Cairo stretched out behind them in the distance.  It was truly a sight to behold and something I never expected to experience in my lifetime. Here is a partial shot of two of the Pyramids with a couple of cars to give you an idea of their size:

And here we are sitting on the base of the largest Pyramid which shows how big each stone is:

A picture of the second largest pyramid behind some smaller structures:

And finally, the Sphinx:

Needless to say the Pyramids are huge, huge structures and I really cannot comprehend how they were built without the aid of modern technology.  There are three main pyramids, which were the tombs of pharaohs, and several smaller pyramids that served as tombs for the pharaohs’ wives, known as the “queen’s” pyramids.  We walked into the interior of one of the smaller tombs, down a narrow stuffy claustrophobic tunnel into the small stone room at the heart of the structure.  Here is Ken inside the tomb room of the small Pyramid:

I have to say that our guide really did manage to give us an entertaining tour.  As I mentioned, we did not go in to the area through the main entrance and as a result we approached the Pyramids from a less crowded and more scenic vantage point.  Once we arrived in the main area, where we trotted past cars and tour buses, he took us into sections of the Pyramids area that are actually off limits, and as a result kept getting into loud arguments with various government officials who would ride over to try to chase us away…they were always persuaded by a few egyptian pounds to let us stay.  Here is one of the many policeman looking off into the sunset after getting his pound of flesh:

Our guide also got a big kick out of getting us to take completely silly pictures, such as this one of me kissing the Sphinx.

And this one touching the top of the Pyramids:

All in all, the tour to the Pyramids was definitely the highlight of our time in Cairo and in Egypt, although we did also take a day to explore the city.  We walked through the Khan el-Khalili market, which has been in existence since the 1300′s.  As we started walking through the market, I thought it was very touristy, but as we slowly made our way deeper into the market the narrow alleys gradually became more and more crowded with locals shopping and carrying large packages.  The market sells pretty much anything and everything, spices, clothing, scarves, egyptian statues, party hats, stuffed animals, food, tea…you name it.  As we walked amongst throngs of people and men pulling carts packed high with goods, hissing to warn you to allow them passage, it felt like we had stepped back in time to the market of centuries earlier.  Here is a not-so-glamorous shot of the market:

We also visited the Egyptian museum, which is really big and full of a mind boggling array of ancient artifacts and statues.  The Tutankhamen exhibit is particularly interesting.  Cairo is also home to something called the City of the Dead, which basically is a large inhabited cemetery.  People who cannot afford homes live in the above-ground tombs and structures of the cemetery, a result of a lack of affordable housing in the area.  Our driver pointed these out to us on our way back to our hotel, although we do not have a picture.

And of course, no trip to Egypt would be complete without taking some time to view the Nile.  Here I am with Little Spree overlooking the Nile winding its way through the city of Cairo.

After Cairo, it was time for a few days of R&R in the city of Dahab on the Sinai Penninsula.  The topography here is absolutely stunning, mud colored mountains rising behind a beach of red stone.  The red sea is cool and refreshing and so salty you can float and float without a paddle.   Unfortunately because I had a major head cold, we could not partake in the great scuba diving available in the area.  Here is Ken at a seaside bar:

Now despite the grandeur of the Pyramids and the beauty of the beaches, Egypt can, at times, be a trying travel destination.  For example, you have to bargain for everything and tip everyone, which is not in and of itself a problem, except that it is nearly impossible to get change anywhere.  There is an actual shortage of small bills in the country.  Also, it is generally accepted and I suppose expected that whomever you tip will ask you for more money.  You do get a sense that tourists are viewed as a kind of ATM.  In fact as we rode back through the village after our tour of the Pyramids, a bunch of school kids saw us and started chanting “Money, Money, Money!”.   Our cab driver took the 50 pound note we gave him and switched it under the dashboard for a 1 pound note and then claimed we did not pay him the right amount (Ken saw him switch the money).  When we told him we saw what he had done, he said “but the ride was very far…”  But hey, I guess these are just some of the hazards of travel and minor annoyances when you think of all the history, beauty and culture Egypt has to offer.

So here is the slideshow for Egypt:  http://flickr.com/photos/23884143@N06/sets/72157608370034120/show/

Next up…India!

The Acropolis was basically the center of religious life in ancient Greece. It sits impressively on top of a large hill and towers over the city of Athens. Much of it is in ruins of course but they are in good enough shape to give you the flavor of their former grandeur. On the way up to the top of the hill you pass by what was once an amphitheater and see a bunch of ruins but the main event here is the Parthenon.  Here is the old amphitheater:

And here is Little Spree in front of said Parthenon:

The Parthenon was originally built as a temple but over time functioned as a treasury, a Christian church, a Mosque and an ammunition storage depot. It was then that it was blown to crap when the Venetians bombarded it in the late 1600s and the munitions exploded leaving it in its current condition. Since it was only a few hundred years ago that it was blown up, there is some debate as to whether it should be rebuilt or not. There is currently a renovation in progress as you can see in some of the pics but it isn’t a complete rebuild. Here is the back side of the building:

Also on top is the Erechtheum:

I’m going on memory here so don’t blast me but I think this is supposed to be the site where Poseidon and Athena had their contest over the city (which Athena of course won, hence the name Athens). Greek mythology buffs should feel free to correct me. I’m too lazy to look it up. Here is part of the Erechtheum called the Porch of Maidens – each one being different from the others. I read somewhere that the necks were the tricky part because they need to support the weight of the roof:

So, that’s basically the Acropolis. The second item on our list for Athens was, wait for it, wait for it, laundry! Normally, laundry would not be blog-worthy but I thought I’d mention that at the laundromat Krysten managed to gracefully miss a step and fell flat on her butt leaving a bruise the size of a softball. OUCH! I’d post a pic but it was in a decidely non-picture taking zone…

Anyway, not much else to report on Athens other than that the food was fantastic (I never thought much about Greek food until then but it’s pretty damn good). So, in accordance with our normal pattern for this trip, we ate way too much… Here is a final shot from Athens taken from our hotel room which was across the street from the remains of the Temple of Zeus:

The only other place we hit in Greece was Santorini, which is sort of a laid back place to wither away a couple of days. We stayed at a small hotel which was perched atop the mountainside and we had the suite on the top of the hotel with a roof-deck. Unfortunately, the place was seriously windy so with the exception of one day it was almost unbearable to sit out there. It is, however, a beautiful place. Here is a view from our deck:

And a pic of Krysten in a restaurant:

There is nothing to report here other than we sat around, ate, sat around some more, ate some more, and basically recuperated from our time in Spain and Portugal which definitely left us in need of recuperation. So, short as this blog may be, that’s about it. Here are the pics from:

Athens:  http://flickr.com/photos/23884143@N06/sets/72157608356184420/show/

Santorini:  http://flickr.com/photos/23884143@N06/sets/72157608356482920/show/

Next up, Egypt.

Ciao

The next morning in the light of day I think we all developed more of an appreciation for Salamanca. It is full of old stone buildings and winding streets and has a beautiful central cathedral, all very picturesque. Here is a picture of one of the two major cathedrals (New Cathedral) in the area (it’s too big to get the whole thing because it’s tucked in to city streets):


And here is Old Cathedral (again, in part):

After a nice stroll around, we hopped in the car and were on our way to Portugal, woo hoo! Unfortunately, for some reason La Tonta was not cooperating. She did not want us to take N234 to Lisbon because it was not the shortest route, the most direct or the quickest. What does La Tonta know? We stopped at a gas station, bought a map and headed on our way.

The drive from Salamanca through the remainder of Spain was beautiful, farmland stretching as far as the eye could see. We passed the border into Portugal and the scenery became more mountainous and rocky, natural and wild. So far so good. And then we turned onto N234. Mistake! N234 is about as scenic as the New Jersey Turnpike. Actually, I think the Turnpike might have a thing or two on N234. The only scene outside the car window was factory upon factory with smokestacks pouring soot into the air. Unfortunately we were still three or four hours from Lisbon and the scenery did not improve at all along the way. We started a game of who could spot a scenic spot…a game without winners. To make matters worse, as we approached Lisbon, La Tonta, who apparently was bent out of shape that we had not followed her earlier advice, refused to direct us to our desired location. When we finally arrived at our hotel after some frantic searching on google maps with Elena’s blackberry, a failed attempt at getting directions from a gas station attendant and finally a call to the hotel, we were not in the best of spirits. To top it off, our hotel, which was a bit outside the city, informed us that, contrary to reports on tripadvisor, it did not run a shuttle into the city and we could either take a cab or pay 27 euros (approx $40) each way for a transfer. At this point I was seriously wondering whether this road trip would be a complete bust.

Despite our sunken spirits, we rallied, largely at the behest of Alexandra and Little Spree, and decided to head into the city for dinner. We called a cab and were pleasantly surprised when it dropped us off in the city center only 12 euros later, in an area, recommended by a friend of Alex’s, full of little restaurants and bars, and people! Our night was looking up! We sat down and had a really delicious dinner. We wandered down the hilly cobblestoned streets, into a bar, and ordered a beer… and like a lightbulb, it hit us, our first revelation of the evening as succinctly put by Alex…Portugal is on sale!!! I mean the cab ride had seemed remarkably well-priced and the dinner astoundingly reasonable, but the beer, the beer is just flat out cheap. Little Spree tried out our theory on a mohito, and yes, it too was cheap…here he is enjoying his drink:

And here Elena and Spree celebrate our newfound love of Lisbon (or of each other):

From then on the night only got better. We found ourselves in a bar with a band. The band was good. We started to dance, even though the rest of the bar was just standing around. Slowly but surely, other people started to dance. Before long, the entire bar was dancing and singing along at the top of their lungs. Alexandra demanded a shot. We asked for a lemon drop but the bartender did not know how to make it. Instead, he served up his own concoction, something with kahlua in it, poured it and set it on fire. Alexandra, who before our visit had never done a flaming shot, was about to partake in her second one in a week. And you know it’s going to be an eventful night when flaming shots are served spontaneously!

Suddenly Ken started making friends. First was this French guy in the striped shirt.

Then a group of local Lisbonites. Ken says when you are one guy traveling with three girls, making friends is easy. It goes something like this, “Hi, where are you from?” “Who are you traveling with?, “Oh those three girls…are any of them single?” “Which ones?”… And so just like that, we had made friends with the locals. Here they are with Alexandra.

If I have learned anything on our travels, it is that having a local guide is key to discovering the true character of the place you are visiting, and once again it proved to be true. Just like Mr. Lee showed us the true Chengdu countryside and Kelvin showed us authentic Laos, this group of Lisbon locals proved invaluable in giving us a taste of true after-hours Lisbon. When the bar closed at a shockingly early hour (shockingly early because it was not yet dawn), they took us down the street and around the corner, and “Voila!”, a club in full swing! The place was packed. Then, the band from the previous bar showed up. The cheap beer was flowing and I think Ken in his merriment invited all the Portugese boys to come stay at our house in NJ. We danced and danced. My toes went numb. As in Spain, we left the club in the early morning and the party was still going strong. We made it back to our hotel just as the breakfast buffet opened.

Here is Alex with Little Spree at breakfast (I think he pulled the “Switcheroo” on Elena and Alex):

Needless to say, the next day as we relaxed poolside over brunch, we had a completely different view of Lisbon and our road trip than we had when we arrived the night before. Who cares about the disaster of N234, when we had discovered the beauty of Lisbon…an incredible city with delicious food, cheap drinks and a fantastic nightlife. In fact, it was exactly what we had expected of Prague, only to be disappointed upon arrival by a overpriced, overtouristed city. Skip Prague and go to Lisbon! Lisbon is the new Prague, and for you single ladies out there, it is also full of cute, friendly single men…I have it on good authority.

Here is Ken posing on the bridge over the pool at breakfast:

Of course, Lisbon has a lot more going on than just the exciting nightlife. It is a very beautiful city with old architecture and castles, and is especially stunning at night. Alex’s friend and colleague Manuel was kind enough to take us to a couple of his favorite local haunts. We had a fantastic dinner in a restaurant and wine bar housed within an ancient aqueduct. Now that is ambience! Manuel also brought us to a speakeasy, at least it felt like one…it’s a bar with very eclectic décor and themed rooms. You have to ring a buzzer to get in and the windows are covered with lace curtains so you cannot see the interior from the street. Here is Little Spree in a room filled with military themed dolls. Spree felt right at home here among his people.

We also found the time to explore nearby Sintra, where we wandered around the former summer estate of the royals…beautiful grounds, a castle, many stone structures with turrets and lookout points, a huge old stone well with a spiral staircase all the way to the bottom, and full of hidden underground passageways. We also climbed an ancient fort built by the Moors and explored the former Royal Palace.  Here is a picture from the fort:


And this is Pena Castle (very Disney-like):

And this is me in the well:


All in all, when it was finally time to head back to Spain, Portugal had completely won us over. This time we took the direct route home to Madrid, and the scenery was beautiful.

Here are the slide shows for:

Salamanca:  http://flickr.com/photos/23884143@N06/sets/72157608367557226/show/

Portugal:  http://flickr.com/photos/23884143@N06/sets/72157608229891171/show/

Next up, Greece.  It’s already written so it should be up by tomorrow afternoon – there isn’t much to it actually.  Mostly sitting around in Santorini.

Ciao

Alexandra is currently living in Madrid and was the impetus behind our trip to Spain, and after the nine-hour boozy lunch she inspired with her visit to Rome, I could only imagine what kind of trouble we might get into in Madrid, her temporary home turf.
And here is a picture of our friend Elena, who joined our Spanish odyssey from the shores of Philadelphia.

Our first stop was Barcelona, where we rented an apartment in the Eixample district, which is right in the middle of somewhere in the main area near everything. Because I prefer to leave navigation to others, and Ken acted as our trusty sherpa, that’s about as specific as I can get regarding location, but I can say that the apartment was a great find and totally cheaper than a hotel. Apartment living is the way to go when you are on a long haul trip like this one. Thanks Elena for finding it! Here is Ken sitting in the apartment:


We arrived and headed right over to our corner bistro (which maybe is called something else in Spanish), where we wasted no time ordering up some tasty beer and tapas. Properly satiated, we decided to do some shopping for a few necessary items for the apartment, one of which was soap. Problem. No one knew how to say soap in Spanish, and it turns out there is actually a large population of Spaniards who expect you to speak Spanish in Spain, go figure! Elena, who took a few semesters of Spanish in college, gave it a go and asked for sopa. We were promptly directed to the soup. Luckily, Elena has internet access on her blackberry, and we eventually looked up the correct word and were pointed in the right direction, vowing to buy a Spanish-English dictionary at the first chance we got.  This is a random bridge that people seemed excited to find:

After settling in, we set out to hit some of the sights. Barcelona is full of architectural wonders conceived and implemented by Antonin Gaudi, a visionary of the early 1900s. His crowning achievement, the Sagrada Familia, a Cathedral, is actually still being constructed in accordance with the plans he left when he died. There was quite a bit of construction going on when we visited, so it was difficult to get a true sense of the interior but here is a picture of the impressive facade:


It’s hard to see but there is basically a gigantic nativity scene on the facade – here is a closeup:

My personal favorite Gaudi site is the Park Guell. Here Gaudi designed a park and several structures within that are absolutely Seussian in nature. For example, it has this hallway where everything is structured on a tilt:

And this room of columns of different sizes. It’s like a funhouse for adults:


Finally, here is a picture of a gekko or lizard or something make from broken ceramic pieces – it’s somewhat famous and you see pictures of it all over Barcelona:

Barcelona also has a Picasso museum that focuses on Picasso’s early years. It is very interesting to see the artist’s evolution. His early works are not the Picasso we know and love, or love to hate. Highly recommended.

Perhaps most importantly, Barcelona has tremendous shopping! Elena and I spent an entire day perusing the many small boutiques lining the streets of the Barrio Gotic, and though I tried to show restraint, there were at least a few irresistible finds. Elena, being employed, was a bit more free with the mastercard, and in fact I think due in no small part to her effort, Spanish retail sales will not decline in the fourth quarter ’08.  here is a picture of a random street in the area:

After a few days of culture, sightseeing and shopping in Barcelona, it was time to fly to Madrid, where we would be meeting up with not only Alexandra, but also Shakira (you may remember her from the Paris and Lille blogs) and her husband Alfonso:

And their friend Miguel shown here signing something in Spanish at a club:

Upon arrival in Madrid we headed straight for Alexandra’s apartment, and it convinced me that I need to live in Europe on an expat package. The apartment is three bedrooms and huge by New York standards and in an area that is the equivalent of Fifth Avenue, a nice leafy tree lined street within walking distance to Madrid’s Central Park. Madrid is a beautiful city with a park seemingly around every corner. Ahhh. On our first day in Madrid, after a brief walking tour of the city, Alex introduced us to what would become our favorite Spanish dish, over-easy eggs served on top of french fries. I know, I was skeptical at first too, but now that I am thinking about it, it is so obviously great! How many times have I ordered french fries with my eggs? (the answer, many) This dish just puts it all together. Brilliant.  Here is a picture of one of Madrid’s many parks:

That evening the four of us, me, Ken, Elena and Alex, headed out for a night on the town Spanish style. In Barcelona, I regret to say, we really did not get into the nightlife swing, but in Madrid we were to have the full on Spanish experience, courtesy of Shakira and Alfonso, who recommended we meet for dinner at one of their favorite local restaurants. We sat down to dinner at a little before 11 p.m. at a Galician tapas place with Shakira, Alfonso and their friend Miguel. Galicia is an area of Spain that has a reputation for being very mystical and is rumored to be home to witches. I have no idea whether that’s what makes the food so damn good, but this place served up an amazing selection of mouth-watering tapas. Alfonso did the honors of ordering us a variety of savory dishes, my favorite being the polpo (grilled octopus) which was so delicious that even Ken devoured it. Also on the menu was Spanish white wine, which we drank out of a small bowl instead of a wine glass. What this bowl is called in Spanish set off a fierce debate amongst the Spanish speakers at the table…who knew the word “bowl” could set off such controversy!  Here we are with Shakira and Alfonso at dinner:

The delicious dinner was only surpassed by the fantastic time being had by all at the table, despite the language barrier. Miguel and Alfonso are Spanish speakers and Ken, Elena and I English speakers, leaving only Shakira and Alexandra able to understand and speak to everyone at the table. Honestly, what did it matter when we were all speaking the universal language of eating, drinking and general merriment.

In fact, with all those bowls of wine (and there were many), we were a very merry group. Alfonso, who had done the honors of ordering all the food for us, decided that an after dinner drink was in order. Suddenly, the lights were dimmed and a steaming cauldron was brought to the front of the restaurant. The concoction was slowly stirred as a strange sounding Irish Jig (ok, that’s what it sounded like to me) played, and then a sort sort of spell or chant broke out. Finally, the waitress brought the thing over to our table, poured it into glasses and set it on fire. It was our drink and our first flaming shot of the trip. Yes, I love Spain!  Here is our flaming shot:

And here we are looking very happy after our flaming shot:

After dinner, it was time for some good old fashioned fun…dancing! Here I will let the pictures do most of the talking, but to give you an idea of the revelry, the dance floor was packed, the music loud, and at some point someone in our party was asked “Are you a dirty girl?”. Ok, it was Elena and we all know what her answer was… We left as dawn broke over the skies of Madrid and the party was still going strong. Viva Madrid! Here are a bunch of us on the dance floor:


Here are me, Elena and Alexandra:


And here are Ken and Alfonso playing air guitar:

(Note from Ken:  I was personally humbled when we left after 6 a.m. and the club was still hopping – I’ve met my partying match.  Woe is me…)

Our trip to Spain would not have been complete without seeing a flamenco performance, so a couple of nights later we headed to a venue in Madrid listed in “A Thousand Places to See Before You Die.” It was my first time seeing flamenco live on stage, and I was floored by the talent of the dancers and the haunting melodies of the singers. The setting was a very intimate dinner theater, and we were just a few feet away from the small stage. As each dancer performed in turn, the complex rhythm of the footwork, the syncopation and the intense commitment of each gesture, movement and facial expression had the audience on the edge of their seats. The performance definitely was a highlight of our trip to Spain.  No cameras allowed however so we have no pictures…

All in all, I have to say that I am personally more partial to Madrid than Barcelona, but then again, the best times are always those shared with a group of friends over bowls of wine and flaming shots…so how could Barcelona really compare? Thanks Alex for putting us up in your pad and thanks to Shakira and Alfonso for our night out!

Ok, so here are the pics for:

Barcelona:  http://flickr.com/photos/23884143@N06/sets/72157608329481490/show/

Madrid:  http://flickr.com/photos/23884143@N06/sets/72157608367430884/show/

Unfortunately, we didn’t really take many pictures in Madrid because most of what we did wasn’t of the sightseeing type stuff so be prepared for lots of pictures from the club.

Next up: our Portugal road trip!

So we didn’t know what to think about Bologna before we got there. None of us had researched it and all we knew was that it is the center of the universe for Spaghetti Bolognese and Porticoes. That’s a party I’m not gonna miss!

We arrived midday and it seemed like, well, the town was closed or something. We were starving so we walked around but we had a lot of difficulty finding something to eat which, in Italy, is unheard of! Eventually we settled down at a decent looking cafe and ordered up three plates of spaghetti bolognese because that’s what you do in Bologna. It was pretty good but at the end of the day it’s freaking spaghetti bolognese – how much can you do with it?!?  Since I don’t have a picture of spaghetti bolognese and I like to stick pictures in after most paragraphs, instead I present to you a picture of a lactating mermaid which is part of a statue in the main square (no, I have no idea why it is there):

Anyway, we wandered around a little bit and eventually headed back to the hotel to get onto the computer and figure out what we were doing in Bologna. Thus far, not we were not impressed.

Later that night we regrouped for dinner and Krysten and Owen had done a little research and decided that we would head over to the University area (Bologna is a bit of a college town). It was there that our fortunes changed. We found scores of restaurants and bars and lots of nightlife. People were out and about and Bologna was alive!

We found ourselves a little pizza/pasta joint and later hit an Irish pub for a few pints of Guinness. I know, not very Italian but when you’re traveling for a while you learn to appreciate these little tastes of home. After a few pints, Krysten and I proclaimed that we were moving to Bologna (as we do with every city we visit) and all was well again in the world. I think at some point during the night Owen assured us that he would get us a TV deal based on our current travels so long as we were willing to keep it going. Not sure how that’s working out though – I haven’t received any calls…  Here we are enjoying a pint of Guinness:

As I mentioned before, Bologna is a city of Porticos. They are everywhere. I don’t think anyone has gotten wet during a rainstorm in fifty years. But, they aren’t one trick ponies – they’re pretty cool looking as well. I think we should redo New York in this style! Here are a couple shots of the porticoes:

This one is inside a courtyard of a library:

We took in some sights in Bologna as well but there is no major attraction like the Uffizi, the Vatican etc. It’s more of a “Hey, this is a pretty cool city” kind of thing.  That being said, there are a few things worth mentioning since I took the time to take pictures (who loves ya baby?).  This is Bologna’s version of the Leaning Tower of Pisa only here there are two towers – and more is always better (yes, they are really leaning – it’s not an optical illusion):

Finally, this is church in the main square which was being built to be bigger than St. Peters. The Pope was apparently appalled and put the kaybash on it before it was done thus sparking the first ever “does size matter” debate.  The church was never completed.  Neither was the debate:

All-in-all, it’s a pretty laid back city and it has that college-town feel that you would expect. It’s not as touristy as many of the other cities in Italy which is a big plus. There are plenty of cheap (for Italy) watering holes to visit (and visit them we did!) and some low key attractions so if you’re in the area it’s worth a stopover. If we were going to move to Italy, this would be a contender.

So, after Bologna, we headed up to Parma for a couple of days (on the advice of another friend Owen and I worked with who was also liberated from the golden handcuffs – well done Chamberlain). When we arrived at our hotel in Parma we went to our rooms to drop off our stuff and were greeted with two story mansions. I thought there was a mistake until my phone rang and it was Owen who said in an incredulous voice “Does your room look like mine?” Even though I hadn’t seen his room, I said, “Uh, yep.” Two full bathrooms, three showers, an upstairs and downstairs with a living room and enough space to have a small party (well, two parties since we had two rooms). Of course, the rooms were a little dated so it wasn’t like staying in the four seasons but it was a pleasant surprise for Europe where rooms are generally tiny. (The next day we were booted out to rooms more becoming our social status…)  It was also situated next to a great park – a miniature Central Park if you will.  As we walked through to the main town there were locals relaxing and milling about, old men discussing who-knows-what on park benches and basically lots of peace and quiet.  Sweet.  Here is a pic of the main path through the park:

Parma is famous for Parmigiana cheese and Parma Ham. I kind of figured that it would be one of those things that was over-hyped and expected to be disappointed. Our first night we arrived at a strange time of day so everything was closed (much like in Bologna) but a lady in a bar which wasn’t open yet agreed to make us a plate of ham and cheese. I can say without reservation that it’s excellent. I don’t know why it’s better over here but it is. I knew immediately I was about to gain a couple more pounds but I figured I’d lose it easily in India as soon as I picked up some Delhi-belly so I pigged out. In fact, I don’t think a day went by in Parma without Parma ham and Parmigiana cheese being had by all – often at more than one meal in the same day (including breakfast). Sad, I know…  Unfortunately, I didn’t take any pictures of Parma ham so here is a random building (and complete non-sequitur):

What is there to see in Parma? Meh… Not too much. I imagine if you were on a two week vacation in Italy you could pack a few things into a couple of days here but we’ve seen so many sights and spent so long in Italy that we’re focused on the main attractions only now and there aren’t too many. There is the obligatory cathedral shown here:

And a town square:

And a museum – which had a great Correggio exhibit that we spent nineteen hours reviewing:

Actually, truth be told, the Correggio exhibit was so long that I couldn’t listen to the audio tour guide to the last painting. Only one more to finish the whole thing and I didn’t have the fortitude. Oh well. I’m a quitter. What can I say…

Anyway, the real charm of Parma is just being in a small town in Italy as opposed to seeing major attractions. So after a couple of days we decided to move on. Unfortunately, we had to part ways with Owen at this point because he had scorching case of herpes that needed attending to.

No, not really. Owen had not been to Venice before and we have so given the expense we decided to head to the Lake District and Owen took off for Venice. We had a farewell dinner which was notable for two reasons. First, they brought over our wine and poured it into a fancy decanter but then they never poured it for tasting so we basically sat for quite some time arguing whether we should pour it ourselves or if it was supposed to be decanting. (We wouldn’t want to commit a faux pas – not three sophisticates like us!!!) After a huge debate in which Krysten and Owen wanted to wait until the waiter did something (which was more tension than I could bear), I decided to break the tension and drink up. This is me pouring the wine – notice the poise and grace and in particular where I have placed my hands:

And here is Owen pouring – notice the lack of poise and grace and in particular where he has incorrectly placed his hands:

Needless to say, he spilled it and then blamed it on “that fly that was buzzing my hand and made me lose control.” Judges?

Okay, so we were on our way to Lake Como. For those that don’t know, Lake Como is part of the Lake District in Northern Italy. We stayed in a relatively small town that I wouldn’t recommend so it will remain nameless here. Our first night we realized that we were the only people in town under the age of seventy, our hotel was full of tour groups, nobody speaks Italian in Lake Como because it is overrun by American octogenarians and our hotel room was cold and had a constant humidity level of about 98% (everything in the room felt wet after about an hour and the heat in the hotel was not working yet). Awesome!  Here is a general shot of the mountainside behind our hotel area – you can see another building on the side of the mountain there.  Much of the scenery looks like this above the towns:

In any event, I think the two highlights of Como were Bellagio and Varenna. Bellagio was across the lake from where our hotel was situated and despite being heavily touristed is well worth the visit. It’s a beautiful town and is loaded with shops, restaurants, wine bars and villas on the outskirts. (Of course, all of Lake Como is loaded with great villas.)  Here is the lakefront of Bellagio:

And here is a hot chick in Bellagio near the shops:

We spent a couple of days in Bellagio hanging around. There is a neighboring town called Pescallo which you can get to by a short path from Bellagio (which we skipped resulting in a loooooong walk around). Pescallo is a small, quiet fishing village where you can get lunch in peace away from the crowds of Bellagio. Here is Krysten at lunch:

And here is a picture of the village:

Another great place we went to is Varenna which is on the opposite shore of the Lake. It’s a smaller town than Bellagio but has less people so it makes for a nice visit. It has a few lakeside restaurants (which of course we visited) and a decent size town. Bellagio is the world famous town – Varenna is the sleeper. I liked Varenna better. Here is the town from the ferry:

And here is the town from the town:

All in all, it was a good trip to Lake Como but it’s a little sleepy up there. We also made a slight mistake by trying to walk to the town next to us – Menaggio. (Okay, it was my idea…)  It started ok but we ended up walking along a highway, running from pathway to pathway down the road between cars, hiking along the inside of a tunnel and generally starving to death when we got there because nothing was open except for a few restaurants that were full. We hoped a ferry and went back to Bellagio for some lunch and vino…  Here is Menaggio:

So, that’s it. Our time in Italy was complete. All that remained was a train ride to Milan and a plane ride to Barcelona. Here are the pics for:

Bologna:  http://flickr.com/photos/23884143@N06/sets/72157608454677833/show/

Parma:  http://flickr.com/photos/23884143@N06/sets/72157608379052637/show/

Lake Como:  http://flickr.com/photos/23884143@N06/sets/72157608158086900/show/

This is the part where I wax poetic about Italy and the near two months we spent there, what it meant to us, what was great, what wasn’t, how we’ve changed, etc. So here it is:  Italy is great.

Okay, that’s that.  Up next, Spain (and I’ve been so slow with the blogs that Krysten is almost done with the Spain blog).

Ciao

There are other things I can’t show you because the museums don’t allow cameras but you’ll have to take my word for it when I say that the Uffizi gallery is fantastic and the David is really more impressive than you’d expect despite all the hype. Here is the only picture I was able to snap in the Uffizi – I took it out the window. The bridge is the Ponte Vecchio which is a somewhat famous bridge you may have seen before:


Anyway, all good things must come to an end and Ev and Charles had to make their way back to reality.  But, as I mentioned earlier, in keeping with the theme of guest appearances on our travels, we hooked up with my friend Owen who used to work with me at Goldman Sachs and at Sullivan & Cromwell. If you don’t know who he is, here is a pic:


He, like us, was jetting around a little bit between jobs (although I think he may be working hard in Los Angeles at this point).  So, we hit the sights together in Florence and then decided to rent a car and check out the Tuscan countryside, a.k.a., wine country. Our first stop was supposed to be Montalcino where they make some of my favorite wines – Brunello Di Montalcino and Rosso Di Montalcino. We headed out not knowing where we would stay and without directions and put our faith in our trusty GPS unit. The Tuscan countryside was amazing and around every bend you see something beautiful. It was one of highlights of Italy.  Here is a pic, although I could post a hundred without getting the point across:


Of course, it was not without its little bumps in the road. Literally.  The thing with GPS is that sometimes it doesn’t send you over the best roads – just the most direct. Montalcino is on the top of a mountain and, as we approached, our trusty GPS unit directed us onto a dirt road which began going up the mountainside. Initially, we figured that it would turn into a paved road and flatten out a bit as we went. Unfortunately, our rental car was very low to the ground and after a couple of minutes it started scraping the bottom pretty significantly. Then the road got steeper. And narrower. And steeper. And narrower. The car was having trouble getting up the hill even in first gear so I had to start fanning the clutch to get mini-spurts of power. I knew if we had to back down we would be in serious trouble and that if I stopped I couldn’t get going again. I felt like I was racing the Baja 1000 in a Pinto. On the right side of the road (which was very close to the right side of the car) there was no rail – just a steep pitch with some trees that may or may not have stopped us from rolling downward. Owen was telling me to stop in a voice that was much higher in pitch than his normal low frequency growl and Krysten was calmly telling me not to stop, evidently also understanding that we would be going backward if we stopped. I was seriously thinking we made a huge mistake…

So basically, I sweat like a pig, Owen screamed like a 12 year-old girl, the car skidded and scraped its way up the mountain, and Krysten basically shrugged it off as a non-event and enjoyed the view. Go figure… We finally hit pavement and the town of Montalcino about five minutes later. I literally didn’t calm down for about ten minutes afterward and I think Owen may be permanently damaged. This is a picture from the top of the hill – the view was amazing and this doesn’t do it justice but here it is anyway:


Anyway, we get to the top and stop in the first hotel only to be told that there are no rooms and that there is only one other hotel in town and they are sold out as well. The only available hotels are at the bottom of the mountain (predictably). When we ask whether there is another way down the mountain the lady behind the counter laughed a little at the idiot Americans who came directly up the Death Trail and explains that we can easily get down (or up) on a nice paved road on the opposite side of the mountain. Stupid GPS!!!

So Owen makes some calls and finds us a great hotel. TRAVEL TIP: Owen is not in charge of hotels. Bad move. Don’t do it. Save yourselves. Exhibit A: We start driving to the hotel and stop to figure out where we are going and I ask Owen if he wants to call the hotel to tell them we will take the rooms and he says we don’t need to because we are almost there. When we get lost looking for the hotel Owen calls the hotel for directions only to learn that the rooms are gone. (Actually, that’s not so bad but since he beat himself up over it I thought I’d kick him while he’s down!)

So, we end up having to stay in a small town down the road a bit called Pienza. But, as luck would have it – it’s a great little town. So great, that we decide to get a hotel for a few days and make it our base of operations for Tuscany. Here is a pic of me, Owen and Little Spree in Pienza:


So, Owen picks a local hotel from the guide book to reserve us some rooms for the next two nights resulting in, wait for it…Exhibit B: He somehow misreads the numbers and dials the number for a hotel in another town called Montepulciano. The next day we show up at the hotel we thought we reserved in Pienza and chaos ensues because they have no reservation for us and Owen already paid for the other hotel in the other town!

But, as they say, it’s better to be lucky than good and Owen is certainly lucky because the hotel he accidentally reserved turns out to be cheap and awesome and the town is only about twenty minutes away. (Besides, we had planned to visit there anyway.) So, although his hotel batting average is low as far as intent goes, he actually batted 1.000 for results. But if you’re out there in the road with Owen, let him read maps or something instead…

Anyway, on to more important things. Montepulciano is an old hill town and they have their own variety of wine in the area – Rosso Di Montepulciano (not to be confused with Rosso Di Montalcino) which is very nice. Here is a pic of the town which should give you an idea of what it’s like:


Pienza is a town known for it’s cheeses and is between Montepulciano and Montalcino. It’s another old town on a hilltop with a few wine bars with local wines (of course). Here is a picture of the countryside from Pienza:


We also had one of our best meals in Italy in Pienza. It’s basically a day trip kind of town so at night it is mostly locals and the restaurant we went to struck me as one in which everyone knew each other (except us). Nobody spoke English so it had a nice authentic feel. Add to that the fact that it looked like there were basically three or four cooks – all of them looking like Italian grandmothers. Perfetto! The meal was great, the ambiance was great, the people were great. In short, it was, well, great!

Montalcino is probably the most touristy town in the region and is on top of a mountain. It’s a beautiful city and there are oodles of wineries nearby and lots of wine shops in the city. Here is the city from a distance:


On the advice of a friend of Owen’s we hit the Poggio Antico vineyard to sample some of the Brunellos. We took in a lunch before the tasting which was fantastic. Unfortunately, I was driving so I could not partake in much more than a taste but the food was great (but pricey). When it came time to taste the wines, Owen dropped a couple of names that his friend gave him – the names were of the owner and his son and the manager we were talking to invited us to accompany her on a tour she was giving. Go Ow-En, it’s ya Birth-day!!! SO, we took the tour and tasting three or four varieties of Brunello which had gone through different aging processes and left with a few bottles of fine wine to drink back on our roof deck at the hotel. But before we left, we decided to get a picture of Owen in the fields:


Can you see him? Here is a closer shot:


See him now? Just in case, here is a much closer shot:


Finally, here is a gratuitous grape shot (it’s like porn for wine lovers):


Soooo, after a few days of tasting wine and looking at beautiful countryside, we decided that we were having more fun that we were supposed to so we headed back to Florence, dropped of the car (or what was left of it after some significant off-roading and my slightly overshooting a parking spot and tapping a wall) and set off for Bologna.

Ok – so here are the slideshows (one for Florence and one for Tuscany). There are lots of pics again because I haven’t weeded out any repeats or bad shots yet – I know, this is becoming a pattern with me but there is only so much time in the day and I’m really busy laying on the beach and stuff. The setup appears to have changed so there should be an “info” button on top to toggle the descriptions (I have to click the full screen mode thingy on the bottom right to see the info button but that might be a Firefox thing):

Florence:  http://flickr.com/photos/23884143@N06/sets/72157607559933169/show/
Tuscany:  http://flickr.com/photos/23884143@N06/sets/72157607559885983/show/

Next up, the Italy wrap up with Bologna, Parma and Lake Como.

Ciao

Since I’m adding a few pics, she gets black letters and I’m in blue.  So, without further ado, here’s Ev:

Our trip to Rome, Florence and the Tuscany area was a dream.  Although we had been on a tour of Italy a few years earlier, traveling with Krysten and Ken was  much more fun.  We met up with them in Rome, where we shared a lovely two-bedroom apartment with a terrace overlooking the ancient city and St. Peter’s Basilica.  Each evening, after touring the sites, we would have wine and cheese on our terrace and talk late into the night.  Ken sometimes strummed his guitar, and the weather was perfect.  White doves filled the dark starry skies, flying gracefully in flocks.  (Ken swears they were seagulls, but that doesn’t sound as romantic.)

At the Uffizi we had yet another strange elevator experience.  As Chaz and I tried to take the elevator down to the bottom floor, there was only one button, which had an arrow pointing “up” on it.  This very bright professor husband of mine said, quite seriously, “Oh, we can’t take this elevator.  It only goes up!”

We loved traveling with the K’s, and it was very hard  leaving them behind when it was time to go home. (Ken gets an A+ for putting up with his in-laws for two full weeks without cracking, by the way)!  Thanks for the wonderful memories, Krysten and Ken. We love you!

We met up with Alexandra near the Trevi Fountain and were immediately confronted with a big decision – What to do? The Colosseum, The Roman Forum, hit some museums, The Pantheon, etc. Enough to make your head spin. So we started with the obvious choice: Boozy Lunch!!! For those of you that are unaware, Boozy Lunch is a drinking methodology for advanced and/or expert drinkers whereby you start drinking at lunchtime until, well, you’re done drinking with the result that you’ll end up going to sleep a little before midnight instead of at four a.m. when the bars close. When you wake up the next day you’re fully rested and you’ve basically slept through your hangover, thus avoiding the “lost day” typically following such endeavors. In short – start early and end early. That’s the theory at least. In practice, it’s basically just lunch and dinner with drinking along the way.

Anyway, in actuality, we really only decided to get lunch without knowing drinks would be involved. However, after perusing the menu Krysten and Alexandra desperately wanted some wine so they deviously twisted my proverbial arm so I joined in (clearly, those two are bad influences on me). Nine hours (literally), a full lunch, two pizzas and a cheese plate later we were still sitting at the same restaurant sampling some very fine wines (or maybe it was grapejuice – I couldn’t tell by then). I think I speak for all of us when I say we were quite proud to hear the waitress exclaim “Oh My God!!!” somewhat loudly when we ordered our last bottle of wine. Personally, I brushed away a tear. Here we are at our “Impromptu Boozy Lunch” – only the limoncello remaining on the table:

We had planned during our lunch to go the next day to the Palio which is a horse race in Siena and it seemed like such a good idea that we called our friend The Loper to inform him of our obvious awesomeness. Oddly, I think he was less than impressed because all he remarked was “What the #$%^ is The Palio?” So, here is a link that tells you all you need to know: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palio_di_Siena. Sounds like a great time to me. Unfortunately, getting there seemed like a pain and somewhere along the line the Boozy Lunch theories broke down and none of us rose to the occasion in the morning so it wasn’t to be. Next time!!!

The rest of the time Alexandra was with us (only a few days) we did some mild sightseeing, kicked back and relaxed and basically ate a ton of food (I was on the Penne all’Arrabbiata” tour and have sampled it at just about everywhere in Rome). I walked away with a few new favorite dishes: (i) Spaghetti all’Amatriciana which is a tomato based sauce with bacon and is spicy, (ii) Taglialini con Cacio e Pepe which is a pasta in a white sauce that is very cheesy and peppery and (iii) every kind of pizza they make which is every kind of pizza. (Of course, the arrabbiata is still up there…)  Here are Krysten and Alexandra hanging out in Piazza Del Popolo (which is where the entry gate to Rome used to be and where you could see chariot races and if you were really lucky public torturing and executions):


And relaxing again on the Spanish Steps:

We also managed to squeeze in a little music in the park.  During the summer months there are tons of concerts in various parks around the city.  We went to see a saxaphone quartet led by another sax player at Villa Monticello.  They set up a bunch of tables in the park and served dinner (although we didn’t eat there).  It was a much nicer place than we expected.  I thought we’d be sitting on the ground basically.  Anyway, the music was great – I didn’t think you could have a group of nothing but sax players but they pulled it off nicely.  Here is a pic of the show – not that it means much without hearing them:

After Alexandra left it was time to get down to business – the language business. One reason we decided to stay here for a month was that we started studying Italian last year so we thought this would be a chance to hone our considerable linguistic skills. We were in class for three hours a day, five days a week and did a couple of hours of homework every night. I am proud to report that on paper I know lots of rules of grammar and can conjugate numerous verbs. Unfortunately, speaking Italian is another story. I typically look like a deer in the headlights whenever someone says the simplest thing to me. It’s somewhat depressing but I learned a valuable lesson: learning a foreign language is kind of hard. I know, seems like common sense. But, in any event, progress was made, just not nearly as much as I thought. Here is Little Spree studying in the park:

So, we didn’t do a whole lot while we were in school until we were joined by Krysten’s parents, Ev and Charles. Since introductions are in order, here they are (Ev is not flipping you off – she is throwing a coin into the Trevi Fountain – if you throw it over your left shoulder with your right hand then it means that you’ll return to Rome one day.  She came back for a do-over a few days later due to the shoulder mix-up.):


Since we were all traveling together we decided to rent an apartment for a week instead of doing the hotel thing. The apartment was roughly between the Spanish Steps and the Trevi Fountain and was pretty amazing. It was nice and spacious inside but the real attraction was the balcony. You could have a party with a fifty or more people up there without a problem and when you looked around you basically had a view of all of Rome. It was very conducive to our almost nightly wine and cheese fests (Charles and Ev are bad influences on me as well…) or just for sitting and doing nothing. Here is a view of the Vatican at sunset from the balcony:

We spent the last week in Rome with Charles and Ev hitting all the sights and eating everything in sight. I’m not going to go into too much detail because Ev is working on her guest blog so it’ll become largely repetitive. A couple of highlights though: my new favorite museum is the Borghese Gallery which houses a number of Bernini sculptures (my new favorite sculptor) among other things. Unfortunately, no cameras were allowed inside so I have no pictures – but here is a link to their website showing the sculpture (it doesn’t do it justice – it’s really impressive in person) and describing what it is:  http://www.galleriaborghese.it/borghese/en/edafne.htm

Also, the one thing we saw this time that I never even knew about was Ostia Antica. Ostia Antica is about thirty minutes outside of Rome and is basically the remains of an entire port city. One of Alexandra’s colleagues recommended it to us and it was great. Very cool and less crowded than many of the Rome attractions.  Here is Charles standing near the remains of a temple in the town square:

And here is the theater – it’s pretty well preserved and it looks like they do some shows there:

Given that Krysten is into the theater, Little Spree agreed to run some lines with her on the stage:

Okay, so as I mentioned, the rest of the Rome attractions will be (I hope) covered by Ev’s guest blog.  In the meantime, here is the slideshow from Rome – a word of caution, there are tons of pictures (even though I only put about half on here) and there are probably a lot of similar looking ones because I didn’t weed out all the bad ones yet. If you haven’t discovered it yet, when the slideshow is playing you can click the buttons in the lower left to make it move faster or slower or move it manually. You can also use the “filmstrip” thing on the bottom to jump ahead. Unfortunately, most of the pictures are of buildings and scenery rather than being pics of us. In any event, here it is:

http://flickr.com/photos/23884143@N06/sets/72157607559986853/show/

Click the “i” in the center to toggle the descriptions.

Florence is already under way as we are making a push to get caught up now that we are wrapping up Europe and heading to Egypt, India, Nepal etc. (The places where we get to eat exotic foods, contract rare diseases, and generally try to do things we would never do normally because it will make for good blog material…

One last thing – although I didn’t discuss it, I wouldn’t feel that my blog entry was complete without at least one picture of the Colosseum.  So, here it is – I just love the way it sort of rises up right at the end of the street:

Ok, that’s it for now…

Ciao