- Colin goes into a shop in Rome and, while holding a beer in one hand, buys a gun. Bloody Aussies. (don't freak out people, it was a wooden gun)
- Carlos asks Caitlin about the book she's just finished (Anna Karenina). Caitlin goes into a lengthy and detailed plot description about the book. When she finishes, Carlos says: "So it's a book about a couple of sluts?"
Juan and Colin die laughing. Caitlin decides to rethink her plot description!
- Elli asks yet another European waiter if they have skim milk. He looks at her as if she's some kind of strange alien creature, "what for?" he asks.
- Elli is asked to dance by an older gentleman, who clearly cannot dance. She does shines, while he runs around her in a weird circle. Finally she gives up and stops the dance. The guy follows her back. She stands beside Carlos. The guy looks at Carlos in vague surprise and says in heavily accented English: "Boyfriend?"
I'm sure there's heaps more of these moments. I'll add them as I remember!
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Things I have gotten used to in Europe
- The double cheek kiss
- Espresso coffee
- Drinking tinto de verano (anytime from about 11am onwards)
- Being able to get amazing, tasty, fresh food anywhere, anytime…. No more Maccas run at 3am because there’s no other food available!
- Siesta – including shops closing down
- Being hailed as “The beautiful dancers from Australia” by the DJ at every venue we dance at
- Old buildings, statues and art on every corner
- Not hearing Australian accents. In fact, on the rare occasion we met an Aussie, the accent sounded very odd. Even Col (who sounds the most Australian of us and doesn’t speak any Spanish) started to sound ridiculously ‘okka’ after a while!
- TAPAS!
- Espresso coffee
- Drinking tinto de verano (anytime from about 11am onwards)
- Being able to get amazing, tasty, fresh food anywhere, anytime…. No more Maccas run at 3am because there’s no other food available!
- Siesta – including shops closing down
- Being hailed as “The beautiful dancers from Australia” by the DJ at every venue we dance at
- Old buildings, statues and art on every corner
- Not hearing Australian accents. In fact, on the rare occasion we met an Aussie, the accent sounded very odd. Even Col (who sounds the most Australian of us and doesn’t speak any Spanish) started to sound ridiculously ‘okka’ after a while!
- TAPAS!
I never thought I’d be happy to say Goodbye to Europe…
9am – Group meets downstairs, checks out, and calls a cab. Col is the last one to stagger out. He doesn’t look good. Caitlin is surprisingly cheerful despite being known for getting cranky if she gets no sleep.
10:00am – At the airport, checkin, say goodbye to Horacio and Mario – this is a sad moment. It’s been 5 years since Carlos last saw his brother and nephew, and who knows how long it will be this time? There might be a few watery eyes.
10:30am – We’re at the gate, waiting for our 11:20am flight. Suddenly it flashes as a new time. It’s been delayed one hour, and will leave at 12:20. We’re miserable and tired, but okay.
11:30am – The flight screen changes again. The flight is now due to leave at 1:10pm. We start to get worried. We are flying to Madrid to check in for our flight home. This is not a connecting flight (we booked in separate to our main ticket). Carlos goes to talk to the staff at Iberia Airline about our problem. They don’t care. They tell us the plane will definitely leave at “1:25pm” this is yet again later than the screen. We start to panic. We were supposed to have 4 hours at Madrid airport to get our luggage, change terminals, and check in. We now will have less than 2 hours. We don’t know if it’s possible to make it.
12:30pm – Carlos is on the phone to Lufthansa (our airline home) explaining the situation to them and asking if it will be a problem – do they think we will make the plane? They tell Carlos that they always allow 2 and a half hours at Madrid airport to make the change we need to make. Carlos tells them we will have less than 2 hours. They say it probably can’t be done. They recommend we change our flights to the following day. This may only cost us 100 euro. The group is not sure what to do. They tell Carlos to call Madrid airport, to check on availability of flights back to Australia the following day.
12:55pm – We still haven’t boarded. Carlos is on hold to the airline in Madrid. They’ve left him on hold for over 10 minutes. We are all sitting dejected and anxious. What do we do? We’re about to board, and Carlos is still on the phone. We haven’t got time to change the flights over the phone now, and we don’t know if they will let us do it once we get there late. Meanwhile we’re still trying to calculate exactly how much time we’ll have in Madrid – is there any chance we can still make the plane? It seems doubtful, but not impossible.
1:05pm – Carlos finally hangs up and rings the airline back. Meanwhile, our plane starts boarding. Carlos frantically starts talking to a woman to explain our situation and get them to make a note about our late plane. Elli is standing at the front of the gate, anxiously yelling to Carlos, who is still sitting on the phone. We’re the last people to board. Finally, Carlos hangs up and we race onto the plane. We have no idea what awaits us in Madrid – will we make the plane? Will we move flights to the next day? Will we get stuck with no way home or have to buy a new ticket? We’ve all had absolutely no sleep, so we’re not in a good state to handle this situation. I tell Elli that I’m so tired I can easily start to cry when we get to Madrid (in case this helps our case). I think we’re all delirious.
2:45pm – We land in Madrid. Our plane lands in Terminal 4, but we need to check in at Terminal 1. They are not close together. I suggest that Carlos goes directly to Terminal 1, to explain our plight to a check-in person, while the rest of us wait for the bags. Everyone agrees to the plan, and we split up.
2:55pm – We’re still waiting for the bags. The three of us (Elli, Col and me) stare at the baggage machine and will it to come out. We glance constantly at the clock, and wonder how Carlos is going. We’re torn between hope and terror. I keep coming up with possible ways this could still work out. Col is not so helpful. I tell him to practice his optimisim. Maybe our next plane is delayed and we’ll all make it?
3:10pm – Still no bags. We start making a pact with the Gods of the Airport. We promise them all sorts of things if they’ll make our bags come our straight away. We also start fantasizing about living in the airport like Tom Hanks in the movie ‘terminal’. Then we start reminiscing about the movie ‘Castaway’ and how sad it is when Watson (the soccer ball) dies. Yes, we are completely delirious at this point. The bags still do not come.
3:20pm – the bags finally emerge. We grab ours, and run like mad people to the taxi ranks outside.
3:22pm – We split up as there’s too much luggage. Col and I take one taxi. The first one refuses us as my suitcase is too big, and he won’t let me put it on the backseat. The second one takes us. We get in before telling him where we’re going. When I finally tell him, he is angry, as it’s a short distance. He doesn’t want to take us. He speaks no English. I apologise and ask and smile (in my dodgy Spanish) and he starts driving. Meanwhile Elli’s cab driver also refuses to take her. In the end she has to offer him triple the usual fare.
3:30pm – Terminal 1 is miles away, but we finally get there. We jump out of the cab and run inside. “Lufthansa?” I shout at an info clerk, “300” he says (the number of the check-in desk). We run.
3:35pm – We finally make it to the check in desk. It’s less than an hour to our flight. Carlos is waiting. We run up to him, filled with terror – he smiles. “Boarding passes!” he says! Thank God.
3:40pm – Carlos has already chatted to the right people and gotten our boarding passes. They check in our luggage straight away. We’re in. The relief is palpable. We’re almost delirious with happiness.
4:10pm – We board the plane, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to get on a plane to go home from a holiday. I love you Europe, but I don’t want to stay here quite that much just yet!
Meanwhile, we still have over 20 hours of travel ahead of us, and we’re totally exhausted and delirious, but at this point, we’re just happy to be going home.
10:00am – At the airport, checkin, say goodbye to Horacio and Mario – this is a sad moment. It’s been 5 years since Carlos last saw his brother and nephew, and who knows how long it will be this time? There might be a few watery eyes.
10:30am – We’re at the gate, waiting for our 11:20am flight. Suddenly it flashes as a new time. It’s been delayed one hour, and will leave at 12:20. We’re miserable and tired, but okay.
11:30am – The flight screen changes again. The flight is now due to leave at 1:10pm. We start to get worried. We are flying to Madrid to check in for our flight home. This is not a connecting flight (we booked in separate to our main ticket). Carlos goes to talk to the staff at Iberia Airline about our problem. They don’t care. They tell us the plane will definitely leave at “1:25pm” this is yet again later than the screen. We start to panic. We were supposed to have 4 hours at Madrid airport to get our luggage, change terminals, and check in. We now will have less than 2 hours. We don’t know if it’s possible to make it.
12:30pm – Carlos is on the phone to Lufthansa (our airline home) explaining the situation to them and asking if it will be a problem – do they think we will make the plane? They tell Carlos that they always allow 2 and a half hours at Madrid airport to make the change we need to make. Carlos tells them we will have less than 2 hours. They say it probably can’t be done. They recommend we change our flights to the following day. This may only cost us 100 euro. The group is not sure what to do. They tell Carlos to call Madrid airport, to check on availability of flights back to Australia the following day.
12:55pm – We still haven’t boarded. Carlos is on hold to the airline in Madrid. They’ve left him on hold for over 10 minutes. We are all sitting dejected and anxious. What do we do? We’re about to board, and Carlos is still on the phone. We haven’t got time to change the flights over the phone now, and we don’t know if they will let us do it once we get there late. Meanwhile we’re still trying to calculate exactly how much time we’ll have in Madrid – is there any chance we can still make the plane? It seems doubtful, but not impossible.
1:05pm – Carlos finally hangs up and rings the airline back. Meanwhile, our plane starts boarding. Carlos frantically starts talking to a woman to explain our situation and get them to make a note about our late plane. Elli is standing at the front of the gate, anxiously yelling to Carlos, who is still sitting on the phone. We’re the last people to board. Finally, Carlos hangs up and we race onto the plane. We have no idea what awaits us in Madrid – will we make the plane? Will we move flights to the next day? Will we get stuck with no way home or have to buy a new ticket? We’ve all had absolutely no sleep, so we’re not in a good state to handle this situation. I tell Elli that I’m so tired I can easily start to cry when we get to Madrid (in case this helps our case). I think we’re all delirious.
2:45pm – We land in Madrid. Our plane lands in Terminal 4, but we need to check in at Terminal 1. They are not close together. I suggest that Carlos goes directly to Terminal 1, to explain our plight to a check-in person, while the rest of us wait for the bags. Everyone agrees to the plan, and we split up.
2:55pm – We’re still waiting for the bags. The three of us (Elli, Col and me) stare at the baggage machine and will it to come out. We glance constantly at the clock, and wonder how Carlos is going. We’re torn between hope and terror. I keep coming up with possible ways this could still work out. Col is not so helpful. I tell him to practice his optimisim. Maybe our next plane is delayed and we’ll all make it?
3:10pm – Still no bags. We start making a pact with the Gods of the Airport. We promise them all sorts of things if they’ll make our bags come our straight away. We also start fantasizing about living in the airport like Tom Hanks in the movie ‘terminal’. Then we start reminiscing about the movie ‘Castaway’ and how sad it is when Watson (the soccer ball) dies. Yes, we are completely delirious at this point. The bags still do not come.
3:20pm – the bags finally emerge. We grab ours, and run like mad people to the taxi ranks outside.
3:22pm – We split up as there’s too much luggage. Col and I take one taxi. The first one refuses us as my suitcase is too big, and he won’t let me put it on the backseat. The second one takes us. We get in before telling him where we’re going. When I finally tell him, he is angry, as it’s a short distance. He doesn’t want to take us. He speaks no English. I apologise and ask and smile (in my dodgy Spanish) and he starts driving. Meanwhile Elli’s cab driver also refuses to take her. In the end she has to offer him triple the usual fare.
3:30pm – Terminal 1 is miles away, but we finally get there. We jump out of the cab and run inside. “Lufthansa?” I shout at an info clerk, “300” he says (the number of the check-in desk). We run.
3:35pm – We finally make it to the check in desk. It’s less than an hour to our flight. Carlos is waiting. We run up to him, filled with terror – he smiles. “Boarding passes!” he says! Thank God.
3:40pm – Carlos has already chatted to the right people and gotten our boarding passes. They check in our luggage straight away. We’re in. The relief is palpable. We’re almost delirious with happiness.
4:10pm – We board the plane, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to get on a plane to go home from a holiday. I love you Europe, but I don’t want to stay here quite that much just yet!
Meanwhile, we still have over 20 hours of travel ahead of us, and we’re totally exhausted and delirious, but at this point, we’re just happy to be going home.
Ode to the Bulerias
It is the simplest things:
a string of lights in the sky
the sound of fingers on the strings of the guitar
the string of words from the mouth of el cantor
he sings of pain and passion entertwined
the strings of life that bind, entwine, unwind
It is the simplest things.
a string of lights in the sky
the sound of fingers on the strings of the guitar
the string of words from the mouth of el cantor
he sings of pain and passion entertwined
the strings of life that bind, entwine, unwind
It is the simplest things.
Last Days in Malaga
Okay, so I'm lazy,and I'm going to summarise.
- Feria: food, drink, dancing, wander around the rides, head home about 3am (note: when did 3am become having an early night?)
- Slept in: then headed to a Cuban ranch on a beach in the middle of nowhere – you would never find it if you weren’t a local. Finally found a beach with good sand! Then had food with a live band. Danced a couple of salsas, then headed back to town.
- On the last day: visited another beach- even more beautiful than the last - and ordered a paella plus tapas. Food was some of the most amazing of the trip. PAELLA = HEAVEN!!!! I definitely want to learn to cook a lot of this stuff, and we’re already planning paella and tapas nights when we get back home – we’ll all have to learn to cook them along the way though.
- On our last night we head to Feria again for Bulerias – which is absolutely amazing (see ‘ode to the bulerias’) then we wander around, find Horacio, and head off to another salsa venue. It’s a bit quiet due to Feria but we manage to have some good dances.
- We had our last glasses of vodka/gin in fishbowl glasses (each one with half a bottle of alcohol in it!) and partied on. The others were determined not to go to sleep at all before our flight. I was not super keen on this idea (recognizing just how long and painful our haul home was going to be) but I went along with the group, who told me to eat some cement.
- We finally made it home around 7/7:30am. The boys crashed out, and I managed about 30/45 mins doze before we had to get up and head to the airport. Needless to say everyone was feeling pretty terrible, especially Colin, who had definitely drank to excess the night before. Everyone was to pay for this excess though as the day was not to go exactly as planned….
- Feria: food, drink, dancing, wander around the rides, head home about 3am (note: when did 3am become having an early night?)
- Slept in: then headed to a Cuban ranch on a beach in the middle of nowhere – you would never find it if you weren’t a local. Finally found a beach with good sand! Then had food with a live band. Danced a couple of salsas, then headed back to town.
- On the last day: visited another beach- even more beautiful than the last - and ordered a paella plus tapas. Food was some of the most amazing of the trip. PAELLA = HEAVEN!!!! I definitely want to learn to cook a lot of this stuff, and we’re already planning paella and tapas nights when we get back home – we’ll all have to learn to cook them along the way though.
- On our last night we head to Feria again for Bulerias – which is absolutely amazing (see ‘ode to the bulerias’) then we wander around, find Horacio, and head off to another salsa venue. It’s a bit quiet due to Feria but we manage to have some good dances.
- We had our last glasses of vodka/gin in fishbowl glasses (each one with half a bottle of alcohol in it!) and partied on. The others were determined not to go to sleep at all before our flight. I was not super keen on this idea (recognizing just how long and painful our haul home was going to be) but I went along with the group, who told me to eat some cement.
- We finally made it home around 7/7:30am. The boys crashed out, and I managed about 30/45 mins doze before we had to get up and head to the airport. Needless to say everyone was feeling pretty terrible, especially Colin, who had definitely drank to excess the night before. Everyone was to pay for this excess though as the day was not to go exactly as planned….
What is Feria?
Think the EKKA on steroids. Think an entire city doing nothing but drinking, dancing and eating. Picture hundreds of thousands of people coming from all over Europe to party for 10 days. This is Feria!
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Feria_de_Agosto
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Feria_de_Agosto
Friday, Malaga y Nerja
After not getting home til after 4am, we then get up early to head off on a daytrip.
Everyone’s tired but pushes through. We hire a car, plus Horacio drives one car, and we head to the little town of Nerja – which has what is called “Europe’s Balcony” this is where they used to watch for enemy ships, and has an amazing panoramic view of the ocean. I finally got my paella in a café beside the ocean, it was absolutely amazing.
Then we chilled out on the beach (in the ridiculously hot sun) before taking a short stroll around the town. Then we headed off the Caves of Nerja, which have the largest stalactite column in the world. It was icy cold inside, which was a great relief after the 40+ degree heat outside. The caves were beautiful, and the feel of the different types of rock was delicious to my fingers.
Then we headed up to the top of Malaga, for a great view over the city or ocean. While we were there we could see straight into the bull-fighting arena, where a bull-fight was taking place. We watched for a little while, but then Elli and I refused to watch any more – as we didn’t want to see once it got barbaric (eg men on horses stabbing the bull in the back so that it’s weakened for the man on foot to kill).
After that, we were finally done, and headed back to the hotel for a siesta. Time is so deceiving here. It’s after 8pm at night, but still bright sunlight, so I feel like I should still be doing things, however we’re all exhausted, so it’s time for sleep, then more food, and then we’re heading out to watch the fireworks for the opening of Feria, and then hit a salsa venue!
You can’t say we don’t pack stacks into our holidays!
Everyone’s tired but pushes through. We hire a car, plus Horacio drives one car, and we head to the little town of Nerja – which has what is called “Europe’s Balcony” this is where they used to watch for enemy ships, and has an amazing panoramic view of the ocean. I finally got my paella in a café beside the ocean, it was absolutely amazing.
Then we chilled out on the beach (in the ridiculously hot sun) before taking a short stroll around the town. Then we headed off the Caves of Nerja, which have the largest stalactite column in the world. It was icy cold inside, which was a great relief after the 40+ degree heat outside. The caves were beautiful, and the feel of the different types of rock was delicious to my fingers.
Then we headed up to the top of Malaga, for a great view over the city or ocean. While we were there we could see straight into the bull-fighting arena, where a bull-fight was taking place. We watched for a little while, but then Elli and I refused to watch any more – as we didn’t want to see once it got barbaric (eg men on horses stabbing the bull in the back so that it’s weakened for the man on foot to kill).
After that, we were finally done, and headed back to the hotel for a siesta. Time is so deceiving here. It’s after 8pm at night, but still bright sunlight, so I feel like I should still be doing things, however we’re all exhausted, so it’s time for sleep, then more food, and then we’re heading out to watch the fireworks for the opening of Feria, and then hit a salsa venue!
You can’t say we don’t pack stacks into our holidays!
Malaga: Thursday night – A summary
- Headed to another salsa venue.
- Got there at 11:30pm and the free class was just ending, night hadn’t started yet. People showed up about 12.
- Danced with one of Carlos’ old students – so there were two students from different continents that Carlos has taught both dancing with each other.
- Then Camillo (Carlos’ friend) came out, and it got craazzzzy. Boys kept buying us drinks, Elli was completely on fire.
- We’ve decided she should drink vodka before she performs. Seriously.
Song of the trip is: yo no se manana.
- Got there at 11:30pm and the free class was just ending, night hadn’t started yet. People showed up about 12.
- Danced with one of Carlos’ old students – so there were two students from different continents that Carlos has taught both dancing with each other.
- Then Camillo (Carlos’ friend) came out, and it got craazzzzy. Boys kept buying us drinks, Elli was completely on fire.
- We’ve decided she should drink vodka before she performs. Seriously.
Song of the trip is: yo no se manana.
Status update: Hotel, Malaga
Weather: Blisteringly hot and humid, I think it’s around or above 40 degrees celcius
Best food today: the eggplant & honey tapas, or the croquettes, or the battered fried prawns….
Booze Update: So far it’s 5pm and I haven’t had any tinto verano yet. This is a record. I have possibly become a total alcoholic on this trip, and am going to struggle when I return to complete sobriety when I get home! Not to mention the strict diet I am going to have to go on in order to fit in my costumes for solo comp! But meanwhile.. off to eat Paella….!!!
Best food today: the eggplant & honey tapas, or the croquettes, or the battered fried prawns….
Booze Update: So far it’s 5pm and I haven’t had any tinto verano yet. This is a record. I have possibly become a total alcoholic on this trip, and am going to struggle when I return to complete sobriety when I get home! Not to mention the strict diet I am going to have to go on in order to fit in my costumes for solo comp! But meanwhile.. off to eat Paella….!!!
Status Update: Magala, Day three
Weather: Crazy hot and humid
Sleep Status: Pretty good, we slept in late
Food Status: Incredible, we did another AMAZING tapas crawl around Malaga. I can’t get over the food. Only problem is how many kilos heavier I will be by the time I get home.
Shopping moment: Went looking for a knife shop for Col, only to find it was closed for siesta – for like 5 hours! Ahh the Spanish lifestyle.
Excited About: Feria. The whole city is getting ready for it – you can see the preparations everywhere!
Sleep Status: Pretty good, we slept in late
Food Status: Incredible, we did another AMAZING tapas crawl around Malaga. I can’t get over the food. Only problem is how many kilos heavier I will be by the time I get home.
Shopping moment: Went looking for a knife shop for Col, only to find it was closed for siesta – for like 5 hours! Ahh the Spanish lifestyle.
Excited About: Feria. The whole city is getting ready for it – you can see the preparations everywhere!
Malaga – Day Two, A Summary
- Slept in
- Wandered around the city
- Saw the home of Picasso
- Headed to the beach in a horse and carriage
- Had late lunch on the beach – absolutely awesome food!!!
- Then swam, lay on the sand, read Anna Karenina with tinto verano and the most amazing croissants I’ve ever eaten.
- Wandered to a wine bar built in 1840 with wine in big barrels that you order in tiny glasses. Tastes almost like port.
- Shopping!
- Headed out to another salsa place by the beach – absolutely awesome! Great atmosphere, good music, packed, and some great dancers. I was totally Miss Popular on this night (I think it was the blonde hair!) and I barely stopped dancing. Had one bachata with a random guy who sadly spoke no English but was one of the best bachatas I’ve ever had (excluding Mandee of course!) Didn’t get home til 5am.
- Wandered around the city
- Saw the home of Picasso
- Headed to the beach in a horse and carriage
- Had late lunch on the beach – absolutely awesome food!!!
- Then swam, lay on the sand, read Anna Karenina with tinto verano and the most amazing croissants I’ve ever eaten.
- Wandered to a wine bar built in 1840 with wine in big barrels that you order in tiny glasses. Tastes almost like port.
- Shopping!
- Headed out to another salsa place by the beach – absolutely awesome! Great atmosphere, good music, packed, and some great dancers. I was totally Miss Popular on this night (I think it was the blonde hair!) and I barely stopped dancing. Had one bachata with a random guy who sadly spoke no English but was one of the best bachatas I’ve ever had (excluding Mandee of course!) Didn’t get home til 5am.
Malaga – First Night
So our first night in Malaga we headed out to a restaurant owned by Carlos’ friend Camillo and his sister. We had a delicious dinner there, and got to hear stories about Carlos in his wild and crazy Spanish youth. Camillo had even brought along the scooter that Carlos used to own!
Then Horatio (Carlos’ brother) took us out to a club (by ‘us’ I mean Elli, Carlos and I – Colin had piked – I note that for the record when Colin later calls ME soft!!). The club was a latin dance venue, but very hot and mainly reggaeton type music. We had a few dances, but it wasn’t really our style. So Horatio took us to another venue which had more of the ‘dancers’. Unfortunately by the time we got there it was finishing up, but we chatted to some dancers and agreed to meet them again at another venue the next night.
Then Horatio (Carlos’ brother) took us out to a club (by ‘us’ I mean Elli, Carlos and I – Colin had piked – I note that for the record when Colin later calls ME soft!!). The club was a latin dance venue, but very hot and mainly reggaeton type music. We had a few dances, but it wasn’t really our style. So Horatio took us to another venue which had more of the ‘dancers’. Unfortunately by the time we got there it was finishing up, but we chatted to some dancers and agreed to meet them again at another venue the next night.
Madrid to Malaga
Oh the world of pain. Hangover. Airport. No Sleep. Too much food = very cranky Caitlin.
The next morning we woke up to go from Madrid to Malaga. We’d had little sleep, were totally hungover, exhausted and had a ‘food hangover’. So basically I don’t think I said more than about 5 words the whole trip. The others thought I was just cranky and sleep deprived, in reality I was scared to talk in case I threw up instead.
Anyway, we got to Malaga, and were picked up by Carlo’s brother Horatio, his nephew Mario, and a friend.
The trip to the hotel was funny. Julio, Maria and I all went with Carlos’ friend Camillo, who had a tiny car, and had left the boot packed with construction gear. The other group had taken my suitcase in their bigger car, but we still had two large suitcases and all our carry-on luggage. I will forever remember the sight of us – one suitcase on Julio’s lap in the front, with his arm hanging out the window, another suitcase crammed in between Maria and me in the back, with all our carry-on luggage piled on our laps. The car had no air-con, and the weather outside was in the 30’s and incredibly humid. Lucky the trip was a short one!
Once we arrived at the hotel, we waited for ages, as Horatio (Carlos’ brother) had gotten lost on the way, before finally checking in and crashing out for some sleep. Mmmmm. Sleep.
The next morning we woke up to go from Madrid to Malaga. We’d had little sleep, were totally hungover, exhausted and had a ‘food hangover’. So basically I don’t think I said more than about 5 words the whole trip. The others thought I was just cranky and sleep deprived, in reality I was scared to talk in case I threw up instead.
Anyway, we got to Malaga, and were picked up by Carlo’s brother Horatio, his nephew Mario, and a friend.
The trip to the hotel was funny. Julio, Maria and I all went with Carlos’ friend Camillo, who had a tiny car, and had left the boot packed with construction gear. The other group had taken my suitcase in their bigger car, but we still had two large suitcases and all our carry-on luggage. I will forever remember the sight of us – one suitcase on Julio’s lap in the front, with his arm hanging out the window, another suitcase crammed in between Maria and me in the back, with all our carry-on luggage piled on our laps. The car had no air-con, and the weather outside was in the 30’s and incredibly humid. Lucky the trip was a short one!
Once we arrived at the hotel, we waited for ages, as Horatio (Carlos’ brother) had gotten lost on the way, before finally checking in and crashing out for some sleep. Mmmmm. Sleep.
Comer, Tomar y Gozar!
Our second night in Madrid was the tapas crawl that will never be forgotten. I don’t think I can truly describe the atmosphere to any but the small group that experienced it… but to try and illustrate…
- Food. Food. More Food. Everything you try is more delicious than the last. Olives. Seafood. Ham. Croquettes. Chorizos. Tortillas. Potatos. Fried things I don’t even know what they are.
- Tinto de Verano. This was my first introduction to this wonderful invention. It’s basically local wine with lemonade added. When Carlos first told me what it was, I was “ewww” and chose ‘real’ red wine instead. But after a sip of Elli’s ‘tinto’ I was converted.
- People. The people in Spain are lovely. Friendly, fun, outgoing. A highlight moment was when Julio (Elli’s Dad) was dancing flamenco with another old man in one of the bars. Yes, we were all pretty smashed at this point. Another highlight was the man cutting the ham, who not only posed for photos with us, but chatted and laughed and didn’t mind our intoxictated craziness.
- The Bars. Each bar is unique and has it’s own personal character. They are usually quite small, and you stand along a wooden bench, or find a stool, or fit wherever there is a bit of space. The décor is always individual and interesting and tells a story about the bar and the food.
We basically ate and drank our way through the backstreets of Madrid. So much food I don’t know how we were still walking, but it was impossible to say no. It is truly a night that none of us will ever forget.
Quote of the night would have to be:
“I have asthma” – Julio, in response to a comment about farting in his sleep.
- Food. Food. More Food. Everything you try is more delicious than the last. Olives. Seafood. Ham. Croquettes. Chorizos. Tortillas. Potatos. Fried things I don’t even know what they are.
- Tinto de Verano. This was my first introduction to this wonderful invention. It’s basically local wine with lemonade added. When Carlos first told me what it was, I was “ewww” and chose ‘real’ red wine instead. But after a sip of Elli’s ‘tinto’ I was converted.
- People. The people in Spain are lovely. Friendly, fun, outgoing. A highlight moment was when Julio (Elli’s Dad) was dancing flamenco with another old man in one of the bars. Yes, we were all pretty smashed at this point. Another highlight was the man cutting the ham, who not only posed for photos with us, but chatted and laughed and didn’t mind our intoxictated craziness.
- The Bars. Each bar is unique and has it’s own personal character. They are usually quite small, and you stand along a wooden bench, or find a stool, or fit wherever there is a bit of space. The décor is always individual and interesting and tells a story about the bar and the food.
We basically ate and drank our way through the backstreets of Madrid. So much food I don’t know how we were still walking, but it was impossible to say no. It is truly a night that none of us will ever forget.
Quote of the night would have to be:
“I have asthma” – Julio, in response to a comment about farting in his sleep.
Day in Madrid
We had one full day in Madrid, so we decided to get on the “Red Bus” tour in order to see all the main sights. There’s too many to mention, and I have to say that poor Madrid got short shrift because we went there directly from Rome. We couldn’t help but say “oh yes, that’s nice, but it’s not really the Vatican Basilica is it?” We had become total tourist snobs.
The one thing I must mention is our lunch destination, we found a little sandwich bar with 100 different types of “mini” sandwiches. The idea is you order 3 or 4 of them. And they were freaking fantastic. Standout was a bacon and cheese and some kind of tomato-based sauce. DELICIOUS! This was just the beginning of food in Spain – which would be in unbelievably good.
The one thing I must mention is our lunch destination, we found a little sandwich bar with 100 different types of “mini” sandwiches. The idea is you order 3 or 4 of them. And they were freaking fantastic. Standout was a bacon and cheese and some kind of tomato-based sauce. DELICIOUS! This was just the beginning of food in Spain – which would be in unbelievably good.
Rome to Madrid
I’m sad to leave Rome, I’ve already decided I have to come back here and stay for at least a week, but I’m excited to get off the plane in Madrid. We leave the airport, jump on the metro, and head to our hotel, which is in a tiny backstreet just beside Puerta del Sol – which is a huge plaza in the middle of Madrid. On our way to the hotel we’ve already passed the “Museo de Jamon” (Museum of Ham) which has Col’s jaw drop to allow drool to trickle down his cheek.
In the hotel, we meet up with Mama and Papa Torres (Elli’s parents) and we’ve lost Juan (who’s gone to catch up with his family after more than 5 years absence) so our group is back to 6 people. That night we consider crashing, as it’s been a long day of travel, but we just can’t do it, so instead we head out to a salsa club with an old friend of Carlos – who is a dancer.
The night was fun. In summary, the dancers were okay – not amazing – however everyone told us that most of the city had gone to the beach for summer, so there weren’t many people left in town. One thing we really noticed that first night was the the idea of a ‘drink’ could be anything from about 3 Australian shots, to a quarter of a bottle – in one glass! And people say that Australians are alcoholics….
In the hotel, we meet up with Mama and Papa Torres (Elli’s parents) and we’ve lost Juan (who’s gone to catch up with his family after more than 5 years absence) so our group is back to 6 people. That night we consider crashing, as it’s been a long day of travel, but we just can’t do it, so instead we head out to a salsa club with an old friend of Carlos – who is a dancer.
The night was fun. In summary, the dancers were okay – not amazing – however everyone told us that most of the city had gone to the beach for summer, so there weren’t many people left in town. One thing we really noticed that first night was the the idea of a ‘drink’ could be anything from about 3 Australian shots, to a quarter of a bottle – in one glass! And people say that Australians are alcoholics….
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Tale of a Vestal Virgin (This is for Elli!)
Imagine you’re a five year old girl. You’re beautiful. You know this because you’re mother always strokes your hair and admires your eyes. Other people stare at you in the street, or stop to comment to your mother about your beauty while in the public baths.
One day, you turn six years old. Your mother dresses you in your finest clothes, and brushes your hair for a long time. Your father inspects you in careful detail, before nodding his approval. Then your father takes your hand and takes you into the centre of town, to a large and beautiful chapel.
In the chapel there are many many little girls. Thousands of them. They are all beautiful, and they all stand with their fathers, who look anxious and excited.
Men in robes come down the line of little girls, examining the face of each one in turn. Every now and then they nod at a father, and a little girl is taken away to a new line.
When they get to you, you are very nervous, although you don’t really know why. The men peer into your eyes, they open your mouth and examine your teeth. They stroke your hair, and make you spin and walk. Then they nod at your father. You are taken to a special line.
Over the next day you are inspected and admired, spoken to, and made to walk and move and sing and dance. Finally you come before the most beautiful woman you have ever seen. She looks like a goddess, and is dressed in fine robes. You have never seen a woman dressed so beautifully. She examines you, and speaks to you, and finally she nods, and says “Welcome little one. Welcome to the cult of the vestal virgins.”
Now you are taken from your family, and told you have a new family, of only women. For the next ten years, you are trained in becoming a priestess of the pagan gods. You live in a beautiful palace with only the other priestesses, trainees, and teachers. Your own teacher was once a priestess, but she is now retired, and her only job is to teach you. There are only 6 priestesses at any one time. You are continually told how great an honour it is for you to have been chosen.
You live a life of luxury and beauty. You may own land, rise horses, wear beautiful clothes and jewellery, have input into important decisions in Rome. Where you walk down a street and smile, condemned men are instantly freed. Men come to worship your beauty and purity.
The only thing you may not do? Is have carnal knowledge of any man. You have heard the stories of those very few priestesses who broke this rule. Each one was buried alive for 60 days. Only if they lived through this ordeal would it show that they had been wrongly condemned. None ever survived the ordeal.
But you are not tempted to stray from your cult. You are well trained, and you feel the power and responsibility of being a vessel for the Gods. Your knowledge and wisdom and purity is a beacon to all those who worship you, and you know that you are one of the most beautiful women in Rome, if not on earth. Your beauty is a symbol of your spiritual perfection and purity. The gods show the world your inner perfection through the beauty of your outer.
After you serve as a priestess for ten years, you must then choose your own successor from the line of little girls who come with their anxious fathers. You examine them carefully, and must find only the most beautiful, the most perfect, the girl with the most grace and poise and promise. You will then spend 10 years training her to perfection, so that she too will carry on the traditions of the Vestal Virgins. She too will be a pure vessel for the Gods you serve.
The cult of the Vestal Virgins has existed for over 1000 years, and you will see that this tradition continues on, before finally, you will retire, after ten years of training, ten years of service, and ten years of teaching. You have been one of the most beautiful and powerful women in a land where only men have power. You have been the exception to every rule, and have lived a life envied by all other women.
Now, it is time for you to retire, and perhaps briefly taste those things so long denied to you – men, children, a home. Or perhaps it is too late, you are old now, and it is not long til you find your grave, and whatever waits beyond.
One day, you turn six years old. Your mother dresses you in your finest clothes, and brushes your hair for a long time. Your father inspects you in careful detail, before nodding his approval. Then your father takes your hand and takes you into the centre of town, to a large and beautiful chapel.
In the chapel there are many many little girls. Thousands of them. They are all beautiful, and they all stand with their fathers, who look anxious and excited.
Men in robes come down the line of little girls, examining the face of each one in turn. Every now and then they nod at a father, and a little girl is taken away to a new line.
When they get to you, you are very nervous, although you don’t really know why. The men peer into your eyes, they open your mouth and examine your teeth. They stroke your hair, and make you spin and walk. Then they nod at your father. You are taken to a special line.
Over the next day you are inspected and admired, spoken to, and made to walk and move and sing and dance. Finally you come before the most beautiful woman you have ever seen. She looks like a goddess, and is dressed in fine robes. You have never seen a woman dressed so beautifully. She examines you, and speaks to you, and finally she nods, and says “Welcome little one. Welcome to the cult of the vestal virgins.”
Now you are taken from your family, and told you have a new family, of only women. For the next ten years, you are trained in becoming a priestess of the pagan gods. You live in a beautiful palace with only the other priestesses, trainees, and teachers. Your own teacher was once a priestess, but she is now retired, and her only job is to teach you. There are only 6 priestesses at any one time. You are continually told how great an honour it is for you to have been chosen.
You live a life of luxury and beauty. You may own land, rise horses, wear beautiful clothes and jewellery, have input into important decisions in Rome. Where you walk down a street and smile, condemned men are instantly freed. Men come to worship your beauty and purity.
The only thing you may not do? Is have carnal knowledge of any man. You have heard the stories of those very few priestesses who broke this rule. Each one was buried alive for 60 days. Only if they lived through this ordeal would it show that they had been wrongly condemned. None ever survived the ordeal.
But you are not tempted to stray from your cult. You are well trained, and you feel the power and responsibility of being a vessel for the Gods. Your knowledge and wisdom and purity is a beacon to all those who worship you, and you know that you are one of the most beautiful women in Rome, if not on earth. Your beauty is a symbol of your spiritual perfection and purity. The gods show the world your inner perfection through the beauty of your outer.
After you serve as a priestess for ten years, you must then choose your own successor from the line of little girls who come with their anxious fathers. You examine them carefully, and must find only the most beautiful, the most perfect, the girl with the most grace and poise and promise. You will then spend 10 years training her to perfection, so that she too will carry on the traditions of the Vestal Virgins. She too will be a pure vessel for the Gods you serve.
The cult of the Vestal Virgins has existed for over 1000 years, and you will see that this tradition continues on, before finally, you will retire, after ten years of training, ten years of service, and ten years of teaching. You have been one of the most beautiful and powerful women in a land where only men have power. You have been the exception to every rule, and have lived a life envied by all other women.
Now, it is time for you to retire, and perhaps briefly taste those things so long denied to you – men, children, a home. Or perhaps it is too late, you are old now, and it is not long til you find your grave, and whatever waits beyond.
From hatred and jealousy comes both extreme beauty and sadness (Story of the Sistine Chapel)
We all know that artists have difficult temperaments – and frequently don’t get along (salsa dancers anyone?) and this was the story a few hundred years ago when a painter named Raphael greatly disliked a sculptor called Michaelangelo. Basically Michelangelo thought sculpting was a superior art, and he looked down on painters like Raphael. Raphael was a social party-animal, while Michaelangelo was a cranky loner who didn’t bathe. Clearly a recipe for dislike and disaster.
So one day, Raphael is busy painting a series of private rooms for the Pope of the day. The same Pope asks him to paint a chapel downstairs. But Raphael says he’s too busy, it’s taking him years to paint these rooms. So instead, he gets a sneaky thought, and says to the Pope “I have a great idea, why don’t you get Michaelangelo to paint that chapel? He’d be great!”
Now of course the problem is that Michaelangelo was not a painter – he was a sculptor. He hated to paint! So Raphael was hoping he would make an absolute mess of the job and make a fool of himself in front of the Pope. “This,” thought Raphael, “will bring him down a peg or two.”
So the Pope goes to Michaelangelo and says “I want you to paint this chapel.” Meanwhile Michaelangelo was busy creating a series of 40 statues which was meant to be a funeral monument for the Pope when he died. “Sorry Pope” he said, “I’m busy doing these statues for your funeral monument.”
The Pope considers, and then said, “No Michaelangelo, God is more important than me. It is better that you paint his chapel, than create my funeral monument.”
So Michaelangelo had no choice, as the Pope was the King and his word was law. This made him very unhappy, as his only wish was to continue sculpting.
Plus, there was another problem. The chapel was to be painted 'fresco' style – which means painting directly onto wet plaster. It is one of the most difficult forms of painting in the world, as you only have a brief time to paint before the plaster dries. Michaelangelo had never done this before. But he was not to be outwitted by the crafty Raphael.
So Michelangelo decided to send to venice for some experienced painters to be his apprentices. He summoned them to Rome, and for two weeks, he supervised their work as they painted the ceiling in this style. Then he sent them off to lunch one day, and when they came back, he had locked the doors against them.
He never let them in again.
Secretly, Michelangelo had been watching them work, and learning their style and techniques. Once he had learnt enough, he removed all their work (which he said was awful) and started again from scratch. He locked himself into the Chapel, and would let no-one enter – not even the Pope.
For months he worked, day and night, in the chapel, letting no one see.
Meanwhile, upstairs Raphael was busy painting the Pope’s private rooms, when he started to get curious about Michaelangelo. He wanted to see his work. He knew Michaelangelo had let no one see his painting, and Raphael suspected it was because his work was so bad.
So one day, when Michaelangelo had left the chapel, Raphael snuck downstairs to take a look at what he’d done. He couldn’t wait to see the disaster and then tell the Pope how bad Michaelangelo’s work was.
Only when he snuck into the chapel, he took one look at the ceiling, and was amazed. It was some of the most brilliant painting he had ever seen. Michaelangelo had not only mastered the art of fresco painting - he had improved upon it.
At that point, he bowed down to Michaelangelo and acknowledged him as a true master. So he went back upstairs to the Pope’s rooms. In one of these rooms, a year earlier, Raphael had painted a wall which was a tribute to the masters of learning – such as Plato, Socrates, Euclides, and so on. And onto this painting, Raphael added a new figure – Michelangelo. He painted Michelangelo not in traditional togas – as all the other figures were painted – but in modern clothes of the day – to represent that Michelangelo was a man ahead of his time.
Meanwhile, Michaelangelo would spend a full four years finishing the Sistine Chapel, which would then become a private chapel for the use of the Popes. This chapel was so beautiful, so admired, and so masterful, that Michaelangelo would then be commissioned to do more and more paintings.
The tragedy for Michaelangelo? All he wanted to do was sculpt. He still detested painting, but he could not refuse the Popes. So for the rest of his life, he would be allowed to do only a few sculptures, and the vast majority of the work he was forced to create were the paintings that he never liked.
(note: for any purists reading this blog, I am re-telling this story as told to me by a fabulous tour guide we had in Rome. So I can't guarantee the exact veracity of the specific details. Please don't hold me to account if any of this is historically contentious!!)
So one day, Raphael is busy painting a series of private rooms for the Pope of the day. The same Pope asks him to paint a chapel downstairs. But Raphael says he’s too busy, it’s taking him years to paint these rooms. So instead, he gets a sneaky thought, and says to the Pope “I have a great idea, why don’t you get Michaelangelo to paint that chapel? He’d be great!”
Now of course the problem is that Michaelangelo was not a painter – he was a sculptor. He hated to paint! So Raphael was hoping he would make an absolute mess of the job and make a fool of himself in front of the Pope. “This,” thought Raphael, “will bring him down a peg or two.”
So the Pope goes to Michaelangelo and says “I want you to paint this chapel.” Meanwhile Michaelangelo was busy creating a series of 40 statues which was meant to be a funeral monument for the Pope when he died. “Sorry Pope” he said, “I’m busy doing these statues for your funeral monument.”
The Pope considers, and then said, “No Michaelangelo, God is more important than me. It is better that you paint his chapel, than create my funeral monument.”
So Michaelangelo had no choice, as the Pope was the King and his word was law. This made him very unhappy, as his only wish was to continue sculpting.
Plus, there was another problem. The chapel was to be painted 'fresco' style – which means painting directly onto wet plaster. It is one of the most difficult forms of painting in the world, as you only have a brief time to paint before the plaster dries. Michaelangelo had never done this before. But he was not to be outwitted by the crafty Raphael.
So Michelangelo decided to send to venice for some experienced painters to be his apprentices. He summoned them to Rome, and for two weeks, he supervised their work as they painted the ceiling in this style. Then he sent them off to lunch one day, and when they came back, he had locked the doors against them.
He never let them in again.
Secretly, Michelangelo had been watching them work, and learning their style and techniques. Once he had learnt enough, he removed all their work (which he said was awful) and started again from scratch. He locked himself into the Chapel, and would let no-one enter – not even the Pope.
For months he worked, day and night, in the chapel, letting no one see.
Meanwhile, upstairs Raphael was busy painting the Pope’s private rooms, when he started to get curious about Michaelangelo. He wanted to see his work. He knew Michaelangelo had let no one see his painting, and Raphael suspected it was because his work was so bad.
So one day, when Michaelangelo had left the chapel, Raphael snuck downstairs to take a look at what he’d done. He couldn’t wait to see the disaster and then tell the Pope how bad Michaelangelo’s work was.
Only when he snuck into the chapel, he took one look at the ceiling, and was amazed. It was some of the most brilliant painting he had ever seen. Michaelangelo had not only mastered the art of fresco painting - he had improved upon it.
At that point, he bowed down to Michaelangelo and acknowledged him as a true master. So he went back upstairs to the Pope’s rooms. In one of these rooms, a year earlier, Raphael had painted a wall which was a tribute to the masters of learning – such as Plato, Socrates, Euclides, and so on. And onto this painting, Raphael added a new figure – Michelangelo. He painted Michelangelo not in traditional togas – as all the other figures were painted – but in modern clothes of the day – to represent that Michelangelo was a man ahead of his time.
Meanwhile, Michaelangelo would spend a full four years finishing the Sistine Chapel, which would then become a private chapel for the use of the Popes. This chapel was so beautiful, so admired, and so masterful, that Michaelangelo would then be commissioned to do more and more paintings.
The tragedy for Michaelangelo? All he wanted to do was sculpt. He still detested painting, but he could not refuse the Popes. So for the rest of his life, he would be allowed to do only a few sculptures, and the vast majority of the work he was forced to create were the paintings that he never liked.
(note: for any purists reading this blog, I am re-telling this story as told to me by a fabulous tour guide we had in Rome. So I can't guarantee the exact veracity of the specific details. Please don't hold me to account if any of this is historically contentious!!)
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Status Update: Rome: Friday
Location: Via Frattini, Rome, 7pm
Phrases of the day:
“Ciao Bella, Ciao Bellisimo” (Colin)
“Prego!” “Presto!” “Pronto!” (Colin, Juan & Carlos – in sequence)
“The map was wrong, okay!” (Elli),
“We found a fountain!” (any of the boys)
“Oh, look! Here it is!” (Caitlin, referring to the Pantheon)
Best food of the day: An amazing chocolate filled pastry from a random stall in a piazza… somewhere! Absolute heaven.
Next stop?: Tonight is our last night in Rome, before heading to Spain tomorrow! Hola Madrid!
Phrases of the day:
“Ciao Bella, Ciao Bellisimo” (Colin)
“Prego!” “Presto!” “Pronto!” (Colin, Juan & Carlos – in sequence)
“The map was wrong, okay!” (Elli),
“We found a fountain!” (any of the boys)
“Oh, look! Here it is!” (Caitlin, referring to the Pantheon)
Best food of the day: An amazing chocolate filled pastry from a random stall in a piazza… somewhere! Absolute heaven.
Next stop?: Tonight is our last night in Rome, before heading to Spain tomorrow! Hola Madrid!
Friday: Roman Holiday
I am officially Audrey Hepburn from Roman Holiday. Okay, so not really. For one – I don’t have Gregory Peck showing me around! But the wonder and amazement she got out of her day in Rome? – That’s how I feel about today. It is truly a day I will never forget.
It started with a delicious Italian breakfast in our hotel, then we dragged ourselves (we only had about 6 hours sleep, after 2 hours the night before) off to meet the same Canadian tour guide from the previous day, for a tour of the Vatican. Thank God for Italian espresso!
The Vatican Tour started around 10am, and went for 3 amazing hours. The tour guide from the previous day was brilliant. Her knowledge of art history is fantastic, and we were all completely enthralled in the entire time.
Highlights:
1. The Map Room – I absolutely loved this room. It was so chaotic, so crazy, and so stunningly beautiful.
2. The sculpture galleries – I have always adored sculpture – and some of the pieces in here are absolutely exquisite. I wanted to run my hands all over them (probably something that would land me in a Vatican Jail, but….)
3. The Raphael Rooms – what can I say? Raphael’s characters, and use of colour, is absolutely stunning. My eyes couldn’t appreciate enough.
4. The Sistine Chapel – for some (NO NAMES COLIN!) the Sistine Chapel is ‘just a room’, but personally I got a massive crick in my neck from trying to absorb the amazing detail in every inch of the paintings. I think it would take years of staring to truly appreciate even half the detail in Michelangelo’s work. It was simply breathtaking to see it in real life.
And other than all those specifics, it was simply the grandeur, the size, the overwhelming beauty that was everywhere. Walking into the Basilica, you felt dwarfed by the sheer magnitude of wealth, effort, and beauty that enveloped every inch of space.
One thing I declared to myself as we left the Vatican to emerge into the bright sunshine – I must come back here again. There was simply too much beauty, brilliance and history to ever appreciate in one visit.
So after our official guided tour of the Vatican, we then we set off to explore Rome by ourselves – or as it turned out, with “Caitlin’s guided tour”.
We basically spent hours wandering from amazing site to amazing site. One of the highlights was definitely the Trevi Fountain, which Elli and I had been hanging out to see the whole trip. Standing in front of that amazingly huge and beautiful structure, drinking beers, even the boys had to confess it was “quite a fountain”.
I temporarily gave up my tour guide status to Elli in the late afternoon, after I declared I wasn’t getting paid enough to babysit tour participants who were mean to me AND kept sloping off to buy beers – however as Elli set off in the complete wrong direction and then declared “This map is broken!” within 5 minutes of being elected tour guide – she was quickly demoted and I was given back the map. I remain the only person not to have gotten lost while navigating on this trip, which is hilarious given that I freely confess I have a terrible sense of direction! I’m sure I’ll make up for it by doing something ridiculously blonde in Spain! Meanwhile I am totally chief navigator – so watch out world!
It started with a delicious Italian breakfast in our hotel, then we dragged ourselves (we only had about 6 hours sleep, after 2 hours the night before) off to meet the same Canadian tour guide from the previous day, for a tour of the Vatican. Thank God for Italian espresso!
The Vatican Tour started around 10am, and went for 3 amazing hours. The tour guide from the previous day was brilliant. Her knowledge of art history is fantastic, and we were all completely enthralled in the entire time.
Highlights:
1. The Map Room – I absolutely loved this room. It was so chaotic, so crazy, and so stunningly beautiful.
2. The sculpture galleries – I have always adored sculpture – and some of the pieces in here are absolutely exquisite. I wanted to run my hands all over them (probably something that would land me in a Vatican Jail, but….)
3. The Raphael Rooms – what can I say? Raphael’s characters, and use of colour, is absolutely stunning. My eyes couldn’t appreciate enough.
4. The Sistine Chapel – for some (NO NAMES COLIN!) the Sistine Chapel is ‘just a room’, but personally I got a massive crick in my neck from trying to absorb the amazing detail in every inch of the paintings. I think it would take years of staring to truly appreciate even half the detail in Michelangelo’s work. It was simply breathtaking to see it in real life.
And other than all those specifics, it was simply the grandeur, the size, the overwhelming beauty that was everywhere. Walking into the Basilica, you felt dwarfed by the sheer magnitude of wealth, effort, and beauty that enveloped every inch of space.
One thing I declared to myself as we left the Vatican to emerge into the bright sunshine – I must come back here again. There was simply too much beauty, brilliance and history to ever appreciate in one visit.
So after our official guided tour of the Vatican, we then we set off to explore Rome by ourselves – or as it turned out, with “Caitlin’s guided tour”.
We basically spent hours wandering from amazing site to amazing site. One of the highlights was definitely the Trevi Fountain, which Elli and I had been hanging out to see the whole trip. Standing in front of that amazingly huge and beautiful structure, drinking beers, even the boys had to confess it was “quite a fountain”.
I temporarily gave up my tour guide status to Elli in the late afternoon, after I declared I wasn’t getting paid enough to babysit tour participants who were mean to me AND kept sloping off to buy beers – however as Elli set off in the complete wrong direction and then declared “This map is broken!” within 5 minutes of being elected tour guide – she was quickly demoted and I was given back the map. I remain the only person not to have gotten lost while navigating on this trip, which is hilarious given that I freely confess I have a terrible sense of direction! I’m sure I’ll make up for it by doing something ridiculously blonde in Spain! Meanwhile I am totally chief navigator – so watch out world!
Status Update: Rome: Thursday Night
Location: Residenszia Frattini, 1am, Thursday night
Stomach: Filled with some of the most amazing Ravioli I’ve ever eaten. Although the waiters were a bit evil and snobby.
Tiredness Status: So wrecked we can barely function. We’re starting just to be cranky cause we’ve had so little sleep. We have to get up early for a tour tomorrow, so it’s off to bed!
Stomach: Filled with some of the most amazing Ravioli I’ve ever eaten. Although the waiters were a bit evil and snobby.
Tiredness Status: So wrecked we can barely function. We’re starting just to be cranky cause we’ve had so little sleep. We have to get up early for a tour tomorrow, so it’s off to bed!
Thursday Part 3: Rome: “Ciao bella!”
After our tour finished, we wandered back along the streets, heading generally towards our hotel. On the way, we stopped for coffee and some pizza/pasta – at which point a very friendly waiter offered to abduct me as I paid the bill. The boys offered me up for cash…! Of course.
Meanwhile, Carlos and Juan had taught Colin to say “Ciao Bella” and were encouraging him to say it to every pretty girl that passed. You can imagine this was causing some mixed (and very funny) reactions from the locals.
We continued on our walking tour, which soon became the boys first Roman Beer Crawl. Basically, this involved finding beer anywhere, and drinking it as we walked. Beer locations included:
1. The beer vending machine on the street. Yes beer in a VENDING MACHINE! Although the first one they bought was hilarious, as they couldn’t find the opener for the beer bottle, so Colin tried to be a tough Aussie and knock the lid off – unfortunately he smashed the bottle in the street instead! They got the hang of it later though.
2. Pretty much every café you pass sells a variety of beers. Usually Elli and I would be walking along, chatting and taking photos, when we would suddenly notice there were no boys with us. Needless to say, they would eventually magically reappear with fresh beers.
3. Finally, we found a beautiful little piazza tucked away off a side street. It had a tiny fountain, several cafes, and a huge group of locals sitting and drinking beer by the fountain. So we bought some drinks (beer for the boys, breezer for Elli, champagne in a cute mini bottle for me) and joined in. Within minutes we had made friends with some locals, and were chatting about Rome and getting restaurant recommendations. Beautiful!
Meanwhile, Carlos and Juan had taught Colin to say “Ciao Bella” and were encouraging him to say it to every pretty girl that passed. You can imagine this was causing some mixed (and very funny) reactions from the locals.
We continued on our walking tour, which soon became the boys first Roman Beer Crawl. Basically, this involved finding beer anywhere, and drinking it as we walked. Beer locations included:
1. The beer vending machine on the street. Yes beer in a VENDING MACHINE! Although the first one they bought was hilarious, as they couldn’t find the opener for the beer bottle, so Colin tried to be a tough Aussie and knock the lid off – unfortunately he smashed the bottle in the street instead! They got the hang of it later though.
2. Pretty much every café you pass sells a variety of beers. Usually Elli and I would be walking along, chatting and taking photos, when we would suddenly notice there were no boys with us. Needless to say, they would eventually magically reappear with fresh beers.
3. Finally, we found a beautiful little piazza tucked away off a side street. It had a tiny fountain, several cafes, and a huge group of locals sitting and drinking beer by the fountain. So we bought some drinks (beer for the boys, breezer for Elli, champagne in a cute mini bottle for me) and joined in. Within minutes we had made friends with some locals, and were chatting about Rome and getting restaurant recommendations. Beautiful!
Thursday Continued: Prego! Presto! Pronto!
Although we were tired, sweaty and miserable after our morning travels, we gamely decided not to have a siesta, but to push through and hit our first top tourist location: The Colosseum.
I honestly don’t know how to write about most of the things I have seen in Rome. You see them on tv, in books and pictures and movies, but it’s just not the same. There’s something about standing on the steps that overlooked the deaths of 300,000 people (in the arena of the Colosseum) and running your fingers along the grooves carved into stone walls by people a thousand years ago – it just has to be experienced.
Anyway, we caught the metro to the Colosseum, and when we emerged from underground we were immediately amazed at the size. It’s overwhelming. We headed down to the piazza and were immediately approached by a woman promoting a tour. Our initial reaction was a bit skeptical, but we ended up agreeing to do the tour (mainly to skip the long waiting line). It was the best decision we could have made.
Our actual tour guide for the Collosseum started a little shaky. For example, when outside, before the tour started, he began giving us his comedy spiel. He started by approaching me, and saying “Where do you come from?” I said “Australia” and he shook his hand at me and said “too far away!” then he went over to another girl and asked where she was from, she said “Australia!”. Shaking his head in disgust he went to a third woman – who was from Sweeden, and then he made a joke about her being a Virgin – which makes me wonder, does he think Australia is ‘too far away’ to have virgins? Interesting.
Anyway, his ‘comedy’ routine continued throughout the tour, and it was interesting, but not amazing. I was more impressed by the Collosseum itself than by his information (plus I already know a lot of ancient history, so it was nothing new). However after that initial tour finished, he passed us over to a canadian woman from his tour company, who offered a free tour of the Palatino, just up the hill. We had time to kill, so we went along.
It was amazing. From the site itself (once the palace of the original Kings of Rome) to the stories she told – providing an overview of Romulus and Remus right through to the reign of the Popes, and the little tips she gave us – such as the fact you can date a lot of structures based on the colours of the marble (roman marble is white, so the more colours in the marble, the later it was created, as different coloured marble was quarried and shipped from specific areas they conquered).
Despite our total exhaustion, we walked in the hot Roman Summer Sun all around the extensive palatino grounds, before finishing the tour overlooking the old Roman Forum, where Elli was absolutely enthralled by the story of the Vestal Virgins.
It had been a long day, but as we said farewell (temporarily!) to the Canadian tour guide, we wandered back through Rome and felt completely inspired. Everywhere we looked, it was simply beautiful. The horror of the morning’s travel was completely forgotten as we continued along, looking for the next Roman experience.
I honestly don’t know how to write about most of the things I have seen in Rome. You see them on tv, in books and pictures and movies, but it’s just not the same. There’s something about standing on the steps that overlooked the deaths of 300,000 people (in the arena of the Colosseum) and running your fingers along the grooves carved into stone walls by people a thousand years ago – it just has to be experienced.
Anyway, we caught the metro to the Colosseum, and when we emerged from underground we were immediately amazed at the size. It’s overwhelming. We headed down to the piazza and were immediately approached by a woman promoting a tour. Our initial reaction was a bit skeptical, but we ended up agreeing to do the tour (mainly to skip the long waiting line). It was the best decision we could have made.
Our actual tour guide for the Collosseum started a little shaky. For example, when outside, before the tour started, he began giving us his comedy spiel. He started by approaching me, and saying “Where do you come from?” I said “Australia” and he shook his hand at me and said “too far away!” then he went over to another girl and asked where she was from, she said “Australia!”. Shaking his head in disgust he went to a third woman – who was from Sweeden, and then he made a joke about her being a Virgin – which makes me wonder, does he think Australia is ‘too far away’ to have virgins? Interesting.
Anyway, his ‘comedy’ routine continued throughout the tour, and it was interesting, but not amazing. I was more impressed by the Collosseum itself than by his information (plus I already know a lot of ancient history, so it was nothing new). However after that initial tour finished, he passed us over to a canadian woman from his tour company, who offered a free tour of the Palatino, just up the hill. We had time to kill, so we went along.
It was amazing. From the site itself (once the palace of the original Kings of Rome) to the stories she told – providing an overview of Romulus and Remus right through to the reign of the Popes, and the little tips she gave us – such as the fact you can date a lot of structures based on the colours of the marble (roman marble is white, so the more colours in the marble, the later it was created, as different coloured marble was quarried and shipped from specific areas they conquered).
Despite our total exhaustion, we walked in the hot Roman Summer Sun all around the extensive palatino grounds, before finishing the tour overlooking the old Roman Forum, where Elli was absolutely enthralled by the story of the Vestal Virgins.
It had been a long day, but as we said farewell (temporarily!) to the Canadian tour guide, we wandered back through Rome and felt completely inspired. Everywhere we looked, it was simply beautiful. The horror of the morning’s travel was completely forgotten as we continued along, looking for the next Roman experience.
Rome: Thursday: Train Station Hell
So on Thursday morning, we wake up after 2 and a half hours sleep (or zero hours sleep for Juan) to head the airport. Needless to say, everyone was a little tired and cranky.
But things were not to improve. So in order not to bore you in the retelling of what was a very long and painful morning, let me give you a numbered overview:
1. We called for a 5 seater cab, but it wouldn’t take us with all our luggage. Nor could we get a bigger one. So we had to get two cabs.
2. There was a misunderstanding about how far away the airport was, so by the time we got there, the fare in each cab was between 80 – 90 Euro. Eeek!!
3. Due to this unexpectedly expensive trip, we didn’t have enough cash on us, and Carlos and I had to run like crazy people into the aiport to find an ATM to get more money, while the others stayed as hostages with one very nice, and one very cranky cab driver (taxis over here don’t take cards like they do in Australia).
4. Then, we get on the plane, and I’m stuck with a middle seat – which I hate! Although Colin very nicely provided me with earplugs to drown out the noise of the two screaming children seated directly behind us.
5. We finally land, absolutely destroyed from our lack of sleep, and the screaming children, and we get on a crowded train to head into central Rome. We’re doing okay, until we get off the first train and have to change onto another one. This is when we discover Roman Railway hell.
6. We walk up stairs. A lot of stairs. With ALL our baggage. There are apparently no elevators. Then we walk down some winding corridors. Then more stairs. More corridors. More stairs. More corridors. “oh look! There’s the ticket machine!” Nope. More stairs. More corridors. And these are not nice, even, healthy staircases - they are broken, uneven, different sizes and highly dangerous. Finally, after 40 minutes walking up and around in a train station, we find the right platform. Not happy Jan!
7. Meanwhile we spend most of this time bitching at each other (due to our tired, cranky state). Carlos and Elli are fighting over who’s bad idea it was not to catch a cab from the first train station, and meanwhile I say to Elli, “I bet we get to the hotel and I don’t even have a bed. I can just see it!” Elli very firmly denies this, “No way dude. I ABSOLUTELY saw the photo, and confirmed, we have a double room for me and Carlos, and a triple room with three beds for you, Colin and Juan.” I am not convinced, but she holds her ground.
8. Meanwhile, our actual stop is only a few minutes away, and when we get out at the station we are hot, sweaty, exhausted, and Elli and I can barely lift our arms after the effort of carrying 20+ kilo suitcases up so many stairs. But the saving grace? We walk straight out of the train station into the Piaza Spagna, the home of the Spanish Steps. It is absolutely beautiful. It looks exactly how I was expecting Italy to look, and our hotel (or ‘residenzia’) is only a block away in the beautiful Via Frattina. I fall completely and immediately in love.
9. However just to finish our trip, we get to the hotel and find they have put Colin, Juan and I in a room with only 2 beds! And Elli and Carlos in a room with two single beds! We had to laugh. But Elli and Carlos kindly swapped around and we did some separating of beds so that the problems were basically solved. Although it means Carlos and Elli got stuck in a room with me again – no private time for them in this city of romance!
Meanwhile…. Off to expore!
But things were not to improve. So in order not to bore you in the retelling of what was a very long and painful morning, let me give you a numbered overview:
1. We called for a 5 seater cab, but it wouldn’t take us with all our luggage. Nor could we get a bigger one. So we had to get two cabs.
2. There was a misunderstanding about how far away the airport was, so by the time we got there, the fare in each cab was between 80 – 90 Euro. Eeek!!
3. Due to this unexpectedly expensive trip, we didn’t have enough cash on us, and Carlos and I had to run like crazy people into the aiport to find an ATM to get more money, while the others stayed as hostages with one very nice, and one very cranky cab driver (taxis over here don’t take cards like they do in Australia).
4. Then, we get on the plane, and I’m stuck with a middle seat – which I hate! Although Colin very nicely provided me with earplugs to drown out the noise of the two screaming children seated directly behind us.
5. We finally land, absolutely destroyed from our lack of sleep, and the screaming children, and we get on a crowded train to head into central Rome. We’re doing okay, until we get off the first train and have to change onto another one. This is when we discover Roman Railway hell.
6. We walk up stairs. A lot of stairs. With ALL our baggage. There are apparently no elevators. Then we walk down some winding corridors. Then more stairs. More corridors. More stairs. More corridors. “oh look! There’s the ticket machine!” Nope. More stairs. More corridors. And these are not nice, even, healthy staircases - they are broken, uneven, different sizes and highly dangerous. Finally, after 40 minutes walking up and around in a train station, we find the right platform. Not happy Jan!
7. Meanwhile we spend most of this time bitching at each other (due to our tired, cranky state). Carlos and Elli are fighting over who’s bad idea it was not to catch a cab from the first train station, and meanwhile I say to Elli, “I bet we get to the hotel and I don’t even have a bed. I can just see it!” Elli very firmly denies this, “No way dude. I ABSOLUTELY saw the photo, and confirmed, we have a double room for me and Carlos, and a triple room with three beds for you, Colin and Juan.” I am not convinced, but she holds her ground.
8. Meanwhile, our actual stop is only a few minutes away, and when we get out at the station we are hot, sweaty, exhausted, and Elli and I can barely lift our arms after the effort of carrying 20+ kilo suitcases up so many stairs. But the saving grace? We walk straight out of the train station into the Piaza Spagna, the home of the Spanish Steps. It is absolutely beautiful. It looks exactly how I was expecting Italy to look, and our hotel (or ‘residenzia’) is only a block away in the beautiful Via Frattina. I fall completely and immediately in love.
9. However just to finish our trip, we get to the hotel and find they have put Colin, Juan and I in a room with only 2 beds! And Elli and Carlos in a room with two single beds! We had to laugh. But Elli and Carlos kindly swapped around and we did some separating of beds so that the problems were basically solved. Although it means Carlos and Elli got stuck in a room with me again – no private time for them in this city of romance!
Meanwhile…. Off to expore!
Tropical Gem, Jhesus Aponte & Victor Manuelle – Milan Redeemed
So after our first disaster night in Milan, we weren’t expecting too much from our second nightly outing. Thankfully, it was nothing like the first. Mainly because of a very very lovely dancer called Danni – who we met in Puerto Rico.
Danni is one of the dancers with Tropical Gem (or Tropical Jam as Mandee would say). She had given Carlos her number, so he could call her when we were in Milan. So we gave her a ring, and she told us that she and a few others were heading out to a big festival outside of town that night, and we should come along. We jumped on a train, and she met us at a station close to her house, from which we headed out to the festival.
The festival is a local celebration of Latin American culture, that runs every day for several months – and it’s amazing! They have an absolutely stellar line up of singers and bands, stacks of food stalls from all around the world, bars, parties, shops and more! It has been running in Milan for 20 years, and is fantastic! It’s kind of like the EKKA in Brisbane, but completely Latin American style and it goes for months – it’s hard to imagine!
Anyway, when we got there we met up with some other people from Tropical Gem (including Fernando’s partner Sandy – who is also extremely lovely and very non-intimidating when she’s not on the stage!) and found ourselves eating Uruguayan BBQ, which made Elli very nostalgic as her family is from Uruguay. I have to say the food was absolutely delicious.
After food, we headed off to the main stage where Victor Manuelle was singing – live! For the non salsa dancers reading, he is an absolute star. Think Michael Buble of the salsa world. And he is fantastic live!! It was a brilliant concert and we had a ball.
After the concert finished, we met briefly with Jhesus Aponte (again, for the non-salsa dancers, he’s one of the world’s top On2 Dancers). We’ve met Jhesus before in Australia and Puerto Rico, and he’s lovely. I was also completely thrilled when he introduced me to his friends as “A salsera from Australia. She’s a very good dancer.” !!! For Jhesus Aponte to describe me as a good dancer is like gold dust. I was glowing.
The next few hours were basically partying at the fiesta (and drinking some truly revolting Brazilian cocktail) before we finally headed home to end our stay in Milan. I have to say that our second night well and truly made up for the first awful one. Between the great people, amazing music, good food, interesting conversation, and party atmosphere – it was fabulous.
The main problem with the night? We got home at about 3am, and had to be awake at 5:45am to get to the airport for an early plane to Rome.
Uh Oh.
Danni is one of the dancers with Tropical Gem (or Tropical Jam as Mandee would say). She had given Carlos her number, so he could call her when we were in Milan. So we gave her a ring, and she told us that she and a few others were heading out to a big festival outside of town that night, and we should come along. We jumped on a train, and she met us at a station close to her house, from which we headed out to the festival.
The festival is a local celebration of Latin American culture, that runs every day for several months – and it’s amazing! They have an absolutely stellar line up of singers and bands, stacks of food stalls from all around the world, bars, parties, shops and more! It has been running in Milan for 20 years, and is fantastic! It’s kind of like the EKKA in Brisbane, but completely Latin American style and it goes for months – it’s hard to imagine!
Anyway, when we got there we met up with some other people from Tropical Gem (including Fernando’s partner Sandy – who is also extremely lovely and very non-intimidating when she’s not on the stage!) and found ourselves eating Uruguayan BBQ, which made Elli very nostalgic as her family is from Uruguay. I have to say the food was absolutely delicious.
After food, we headed off to the main stage where Victor Manuelle was singing – live! For the non salsa dancers reading, he is an absolute star. Think Michael Buble of the salsa world. And he is fantastic live!! It was a brilliant concert and we had a ball.
After the concert finished, we met briefly with Jhesus Aponte (again, for the non-salsa dancers, he’s one of the world’s top On2 Dancers). We’ve met Jhesus before in Australia and Puerto Rico, and he’s lovely. I was also completely thrilled when he introduced me to his friends as “A salsera from Australia. She’s a very good dancer.” !!! For Jhesus Aponte to describe me as a good dancer is like gold dust. I was glowing.
The next few hours were basically partying at the fiesta (and drinking some truly revolting Brazilian cocktail) before we finally headed home to end our stay in Milan. I have to say that our second night well and truly made up for the first awful one. Between the great people, amazing music, good food, interesting conversation, and party atmosphere – it was fabulous.
The main problem with the night? We got home at about 3am, and had to be awake at 5:45am to get to the airport for an early plane to Rome.
Uh Oh.
Status update: Milan: Thursday
Thursday 11 am Milan
Weather: Rainy! Our first real rain of the whole trip.
Plans: We did plan to sightsee on bikes today, but the rainy weather killed that idea. So after a long (and delicious!) breakfast, we reassess what to do. Meanwhile I don't care as long as it involves more coffee. MMMMM espresso.
Quote of the Day: "There's always the Foca Loca!"
Weather: Rainy! Our first real rain of the whole trip.
Plans: We did plan to sightsee on bikes today, but the rainy weather killed that idea. So after a long (and delicious!) breakfast, we reassess what to do. Meanwhile I don't care as long as it involves more coffee. MMMMM espresso.
Quote of the Day: "There's always the Foca Loca!"
Milan-No!
It’s 3am, and we are dejected, rejected and stranded in the outskirts of Milan.
REEEEWWWWINNND.
It all begins when we decide to head to “Zoo Latino” – which was recommended to us as ‘the place to go’ to dance salsa in Milan. It was quite a way out of town, but we jump in a cab and head out there.
As we first walk in, we were absolutely amazed. The venue was huge! Four large rooms all playing different latin music (mainly salsa, some bachata as well). It was massive, packed, and happening. “Holy shit!” said Carlos “we should move to Milan! This is amazing!”
However our joy was shortlived.
You see apparently the dancers in Milan don’t really do strangers, or dance with strangers, or talk to strangers. And they definitely don’t ask them to dance.
Usually when we go out, all it takes is for me and Elli to dance a couple of songs with our boys (Carlos, Colin and Juan) and once people see we can dance, we get constantly asked by local boys.
Not in Milan.
The other dancers there watched us dance, but they didn’t ask us. They didn’t even make eye contact with us. And… wait for it… when Colin decided to break the ice and ask one of the local girls? She said “No.” as did the next one, and the next one, and the next one.
No explanation, no smile, just “no”.
And so it continued. Until at the pinnacle, Elli herself (who NEVER asks guys to dance) approached one of the better dancers and asked him to dance.
He rejected her.
I don’t think you can possibly understand how this affected Elli – who has never been flatly turned down for a dance – ever! Her face looked like death, she crawled back to us not sure if she should be angry, offended, or totally depressed.
And the worst part? They weren’t even that good! They weren’t bad dancers, but definitely not to the level we’d danced with in Puerto Rico, New York, or at any international congress.
So the night continued pretty unimpressively. I did get asked to dance a couple of times eventually – but by beginner guys. Elli got asked once (also by a relative beginner). The boys continued to get turned down most of the time, with just one or two dances each with local girls. So we finally gave up and just started drinking.
However in case the night couldn’t get any worse, we then got to the end of the evening and tried to call a cab.
Only to be told that cabs don’t go there late at night. They basically can’t be bothered to drive all the way there.
So there we were – no dances. No friends. No transport. About 25 kilometres from our hotel. And it was about to start raining.
What a night.
Thankfully the non-dancers in Milan were pretty nice people, and it was actually the doorman who came to our rescue, as he chatted to us, commandeered a friend of his, and the two guys drove us all the way back to our hotel. But for the kindness of these strangers? Well it would have been a verrrrry long walk.
Milan in our memories? Forever = “Milan-no”.
REEEEWWWWINNND.
It all begins when we decide to head to “Zoo Latino” – which was recommended to us as ‘the place to go’ to dance salsa in Milan. It was quite a way out of town, but we jump in a cab and head out there.
As we first walk in, we were absolutely amazed. The venue was huge! Four large rooms all playing different latin music (mainly salsa, some bachata as well). It was massive, packed, and happening. “Holy shit!” said Carlos “we should move to Milan! This is amazing!”
However our joy was shortlived.
You see apparently the dancers in Milan don’t really do strangers, or dance with strangers, or talk to strangers. And they definitely don’t ask them to dance.
Usually when we go out, all it takes is for me and Elli to dance a couple of songs with our boys (Carlos, Colin and Juan) and once people see we can dance, we get constantly asked by local boys.
Not in Milan.
The other dancers there watched us dance, but they didn’t ask us. They didn’t even make eye contact with us. And… wait for it… when Colin decided to break the ice and ask one of the local girls? She said “No.” as did the next one, and the next one, and the next one.
No explanation, no smile, just “no”.
And so it continued. Until at the pinnacle, Elli herself (who NEVER asks guys to dance) approached one of the better dancers and asked him to dance.
He rejected her.
I don’t think you can possibly understand how this affected Elli – who has never been flatly turned down for a dance – ever! Her face looked like death, she crawled back to us not sure if she should be angry, offended, or totally depressed.
And the worst part? They weren’t even that good! They weren’t bad dancers, but definitely not to the level we’d danced with in Puerto Rico, New York, or at any international congress.
So the night continued pretty unimpressively. I did get asked to dance a couple of times eventually – but by beginner guys. Elli got asked once (also by a relative beginner). The boys continued to get turned down most of the time, with just one or two dances each with local girls. So we finally gave up and just started drinking.
However in case the night couldn’t get any worse, we then got to the end of the evening and tried to call a cab.
Only to be told that cabs don’t go there late at night. They basically can’t be bothered to drive all the way there.
So there we were – no dances. No friends. No transport. About 25 kilometres from our hotel. And it was about to start raining.
What a night.
Thankfully the non-dancers in Milan were pretty nice people, and it was actually the doorman who came to our rescue, as he chatted to us, commandeered a friend of his, and the two guys drove us all the way back to our hotel. But for the kindness of these strangers? Well it would have been a verrrrry long walk.
Milan in our memories? Forever = “Milan-no”.
MMMM Italia
FOOD HIGHLIGHT #1 - Coffee & Pastry
While the boys nap, Elli and I head out to find coffee. We locate a random bar in a side-street where a very helpful lady explains each of the pastries to us. We each settle on a cute little piece of caloric craziness, and order coffee.
Verdict: Absolute heaven. The coffee is amazing. The pastries delicious. The atmosphere totally gorgeous. Service super friendly. Great start to Milano food.
FOOD HIGHLIGHT #2 - Pasta and Pizza
Later that day, we all head out to find dinner. The strange thing is that Milan is pretty empty (we're told it's because it's summer) and a lot of shops are closed. We finally find a nice looking restaurant with great atmosphere, and sit down for dinner. The boys order pizza, Elli and I order pasta.
Verdict: Some of the best pasta I've ever eaten. Plus huge glasses of a delicious local red wine. The waiter is super super friendly (and cute, Elli tries to get me to crack onto him until he mentions his 'bambino'). We all get a bit tipsy and find ourselves singing along to the Frank Sinatra music playing in the background. It's a beautiful Italian moment.
Quote of the evening: "That's amoreeee"(Colin, in his best Frank Sinatra impersonation. Which isn't very good. Sorry Col.)
While the boys nap, Elli and I head out to find coffee. We locate a random bar in a side-street where a very helpful lady explains each of the pastries to us. We each settle on a cute little piece of caloric craziness, and order coffee.
Verdict: Absolute heaven. The coffee is amazing. The pastries delicious. The atmosphere totally gorgeous. Service super friendly. Great start to Milano food.
FOOD HIGHLIGHT #2 - Pasta and Pizza
Later that day, we all head out to find dinner. The strange thing is that Milan is pretty empty (we're told it's because it's summer) and a lot of shops are closed. We finally find a nice looking restaurant with great atmosphere, and sit down for dinner. The boys order pizza, Elli and I order pasta.
Verdict: Some of the best pasta I've ever eaten. Plus huge glasses of a delicious local red wine. The waiter is super super friendly (and cute, Elli tries to get me to crack onto him until he mentions his 'bambino'). We all get a bit tipsy and find ourselves singing along to the Frank Sinatra music playing in the background. It's a beautiful Italian moment.
Quote of the evening: "That's amoreeee"(Colin, in his best Frank Sinatra impersonation. Which isn't very good. Sorry Col.)
Friday, August 6, 2010
Status Update: Wednesday
Time: 5:30pm, Wednesday
Location: Brunescheli Hotel, Milan
Jet lag Status: Much improved after a siesta. Still completely messed up though.
Excited about: more italian coffee, and hitting the milanese salsa scene tonight!
worried about: putting on ten kilos in ten days, courtesy of the amazing food!
Number of plane flights so far this trip: 5
Number of hours in a plane so far: 34
Next flight: Friday, from Milan to Rome
Location: Brunescheli Hotel, Milan
Jet lag Status: Much improved after a siesta. Still completely messed up though.
Excited about: more italian coffee, and hitting the milanese salsa scene tonight!
worried about: putting on ten kilos in ten days, courtesy of the amazing food!
Number of plane flights so far this trip: 5
Number of hours in a plane so far: 34
Next flight: Friday, from Milan to Rome
Helga & The Man with the Curly Moustache
Frankfurt Aiport: The Highlights
1. Hostess speaks to everyone in my row on the plane in English - except me. She addresses me in German. Every time.
2. Security Guard addresses the people in front of me in English. Me? Starts chattering in German.
3. Third security guard starts speaking to me in German.
4. Conclusion? The group re-name me Helga. Clearly I have some secret German heritage
5. Frankfurt airport has FREE coffee at every gate. Little machines. Which make really good coffee. We officially name Frankfurt airport the best airport of the trip. Then the free wi-fi doesn't work. Slight downgrade.
But the REAL highlight? Sitting at the table next to us at our gate in Frankfurt, was a (German?) man, with a genuine moustache that curled up at both edges. It was clearly waxed and carefully styled, offsetting the shiny baldness of his head. He was slightly chubby, and his rounded cheeks were eloquently emphasised by the uptilt of each side of the moustache.
We couldn't stop staring. It was like he stepped out of an old school German movie.
Loved it!
1. Hostess speaks to everyone in my row on the plane in English - except me. She addresses me in German. Every time.
2. Security Guard addresses the people in front of me in English. Me? Starts chattering in German.
3. Third security guard starts speaking to me in German.
4. Conclusion? The group re-name me Helga. Clearly I have some secret German heritage
5. Frankfurt airport has FREE coffee at every gate. Little machines. Which make really good coffee. We officially name Frankfurt airport the best airport of the trip. Then the free wi-fi doesn't work. Slight downgrade.
But the REAL highlight? Sitting at the table next to us at our gate in Frankfurt, was a (German?) man, with a genuine moustache that curled up at both edges. It was clearly waxed and carefully styled, offsetting the shiny baldness of his head. He was slightly chubby, and his rounded cheeks were eloquently emphasised by the uptilt of each side of the moustache.
We couldn't stop staring. It was like he stepped out of an old school German movie.
Loved it!
Altitude & Life (somewhere over the ocean...)
Right now, I’m sitting on a plane to Italy (via Germany), drinking white wine and reading about Patti Hansen (wife of Rolling Stones’ Keith Richards). And it suddenly overwhelms me (possibly courtesy of the significant effect of alcohol at altitude) how delicious life is. And how lucky I am.
I am cruising thousands of metres above the ocean, off to see a part of the world I have never seen. Every day I have an opportunity to learn something new, to discover someone different, to taste and sense and experience and feel and know and question. I have the freedom to do what I want, when I want, how I want.
I earn enough money that I am never hungry, or homeless, or restricted in my choices. I have the support of beautiful people who love and look after me – even when I don’t deserve it. I have the advantages of education, health, safety, security and love. And I know I am one of the supremely lucky people who can do or be anything I want. And this is courtesy of all the people in my life - both those who gifted me the kind of genetics that make anything easy, and those who told me time and time again that there was nothing in the world I couldn’t accomplish with a little bit of sweat.
Sometimes it’s easy to complain about life. No one’s journey is ever easy or simple, and sometimes I will lie awake at night and wish desperately that I didn’t think so much, or feel so much, or want so much of the unobtainable. My brain is an overactive hub of activity that I can never switch off – and left unchecked it can drive me to the cliff-edge of madness. But would I give it up? Never. And looking around me I cannot but scold myself for being ungrateful.
So as a brief note to those people who love, support, and believe in me – no matter what I say or do – please know this: no matter how forgetful, preoccupied, melodramatic, distanced or compartmentalized I can be – I can never thank you all enough for giving me this opportunity to live a most beautiful life. And if I forget to say thank you? Never doubt that you deserve a thanks that I could never say loudly enough.
Ps. Yes, okay, I can hear your laughter. I should probably NOT get drunk and write my blog on an airplane. But I mean it nevertheless. You know my greatest emotional honesty is provoked by alcohol!
I am cruising thousands of metres above the ocean, off to see a part of the world I have never seen. Every day I have an opportunity to learn something new, to discover someone different, to taste and sense and experience and feel and know and question. I have the freedom to do what I want, when I want, how I want.
I earn enough money that I am never hungry, or homeless, or restricted in my choices. I have the support of beautiful people who love and look after me – even when I don’t deserve it. I have the advantages of education, health, safety, security and love. And I know I am one of the supremely lucky people who can do or be anything I want. And this is courtesy of all the people in my life - both those who gifted me the kind of genetics that make anything easy, and those who told me time and time again that there was nothing in the world I couldn’t accomplish with a little bit of sweat.
Sometimes it’s easy to complain about life. No one’s journey is ever easy or simple, and sometimes I will lie awake at night and wish desperately that I didn’t think so much, or feel so much, or want so much of the unobtainable. My brain is an overactive hub of activity that I can never switch off – and left unchecked it can drive me to the cliff-edge of madness. But would I give it up? Never. And looking around me I cannot but scold myself for being ungrateful.
So as a brief note to those people who love, support, and believe in me – no matter what I say or do – please know this: no matter how forgetful, preoccupied, melodramatic, distanced or compartmentalized I can be – I can never thank you all enough for giving me this opportunity to live a most beautiful life. And if I forget to say thank you? Never doubt that you deserve a thanks that I could never say loudly enough.
Ps. Yes, okay, I can hear your laughter. I should probably NOT get drunk and write my blog on an airplane. But I mean it nevertheless. You know my greatest emotional honesty is provoked by alcohol!
Farewell America (Monday)
So another day, another plane flight, another continent!
The last 24 hours have been relatively quiet. Nic and I watched a movie last night (after our dirty martini adventure) and then went to bed. Today we visited a local farm for my favourite American chocolate and peanut butter icecream, before heading in to Hoboken, where we had delicious vegetable crepes by the water, looking across to Manhattan. Robert fell in love with the crepes, and managed to devour an entire cheese crepe all by himself – pretty impressive given his size!
Then it was off to Newark airport, and goodbye to Nic – until next time anyway. One of the great things about going to Puerto Rico annually is that it gives me the opportunity to see Nic, and be at least somewhat of a presence to my nephew (note to self, MUST SKYPE MORE OFTEN!) I joked with Nic today that as I’m always training, maybe I’ll have to take my laptop to training and chat on Skype in between songs… !!
Then I met up with my posse (Carlos, Elli, Colin & Juan) at the airport gate, and found them filling time by teaching Col “essential” phrases in Spanish. They seemed to resolve around key priorities such as “Tu casa o mi casa?” (your place or my place?) and other phrases to help him pick up women. This concerns me somewhat as Col and I will be rooming together in Malaga, Spain. Carlos’ response to my concerns?: “Get a video camera Kinsella!”
Anyway, in Italy I’ll be rooming with Carlos and Elli – which means no doubt I’ll be “Team Torres” all the way, and we’ll send Carlos mad by ganging up on him the whole time. But I’m sure he’ll survive.
Meanwhile.. in a few hours I’ll be in Europe. So excited. I spoke to Dad on Skype this morning and he was super enthusiastic about my first visit to Rome, “Just stand on the street” he said “and feel the steps that Julius Caesar walked on.”
I then reminded him about the time he gave me the “Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Volumes 1-8” to read. I was 8 years old at the time. I think I managed one and half volumes (of one of the driest historical books in existence) before forsaking them for the ‘First Man in Rome’ series.
Nevertheless, I totally intend to channel some Julius Caesar.
The last 24 hours have been relatively quiet. Nic and I watched a movie last night (after our dirty martini adventure) and then went to bed. Today we visited a local farm for my favourite American chocolate and peanut butter icecream, before heading in to Hoboken, where we had delicious vegetable crepes by the water, looking across to Manhattan. Robert fell in love with the crepes, and managed to devour an entire cheese crepe all by himself – pretty impressive given his size!
Then it was off to Newark airport, and goodbye to Nic – until next time anyway. One of the great things about going to Puerto Rico annually is that it gives me the opportunity to see Nic, and be at least somewhat of a presence to my nephew (note to self, MUST SKYPE MORE OFTEN!) I joked with Nic today that as I’m always training, maybe I’ll have to take my laptop to training and chat on Skype in between songs… !!
Then I met up with my posse (Carlos, Elli, Colin & Juan) at the airport gate, and found them filling time by teaching Col “essential” phrases in Spanish. They seemed to resolve around key priorities such as “Tu casa o mi casa?” (your place or my place?) and other phrases to help him pick up women. This concerns me somewhat as Col and I will be rooming together in Malaga, Spain. Carlos’ response to my concerns?: “Get a video camera Kinsella!”
Anyway, in Italy I’ll be rooming with Carlos and Elli – which means no doubt I’ll be “Team Torres” all the way, and we’ll send Carlos mad by ganging up on him the whole time. But I’m sure he’ll survive.
Meanwhile.. in a few hours I’ll be in Europe. So excited. I spoke to Dad on Skype this morning and he was super enthusiastic about my first visit to Rome, “Just stand on the street” he said “and feel the steps that Julius Caesar walked on.”
I then reminded him about the time he gave me the “Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Volumes 1-8” to read. I was 8 years old at the time. I think I managed one and half volumes (of one of the driest historical books in existence) before forsaking them for the ‘First Man in Rome’ series.
Nevertheless, I totally intend to channel some Julius Caesar.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Status Update: Monday Night
Time: 11:30pm, Monday night
Location: Nic's House, New Jersey State
Next Flight: Tomorrow, 5:50pm, to Italy via Frankfurt
Highlight of the Day: well it could be beating Nic at Scrabble, but it was really getting little Robert (who's been sick, cranky and clingy) to play trains with me, instead of looking at me like a scary stranger! If I had just another couple of days with him, I'd totally be back at the 'best ever aunty' status of last year!
Most excited about: EUROPE!!!!!!!! TOMORROW!!!!!!
Location: Nic's House, New Jersey State
Next Flight: Tomorrow, 5:50pm, to Italy via Frankfurt
Highlight of the Day: well it could be beating Nic at Scrabble, but it was really getting little Robert (who's been sick, cranky and clingy) to play trains with me, instead of looking at me like a scary stranger! If I had just another couple of days with him, I'd totally be back at the 'best ever aunty' status of last year!
Most excited about: EUROPE!!!!!!!! TOMORROW!!!!!!
Dirty Martinis with Blue-Cheese-Stuffed-Olives
So it all started in the car on our way home today, when we began talking about Martinis - although I still have no idea how we got onto this topic.
Anyway, Nic said to me "Oh have you ever had a dirty martini with blue cheesed stuffed olives? They're great!"
"Really!?" I exclaim, "I've never even had a Dirty Martini! Let alone with blue cheese stuffed olives!"
So of course, 5 minutes later, we decide to hit the shops on the way home and gather all the necessary ingredients.
So while I cook us a (delicious, may I say) pasta dinner from leftovers in the fridge, Nic does the following:
1. Stuffs olives with blue cheese
2. Googles a dirty martini recipe
3. Locates her cocktail shaker
4. Carefully measures some gin and vermouth
5. Shakes it up (shaken, not stirred, baby)
6. Pours two beautiful martini's, complete with toothpicks for our blue cheese stuffed olives.
Mmmm Mmm.
So five minutes later, we've both eaten some pasta and declared how delicious these martinis are.
Five more minutes later, we've both eaten most of our pasta, and taken.... two sips of our drink?
Another five minutes, the pasta is pretty much gone... not so much the martinis.
"Holy shit," says Nic "I don't think I can handle this martini."
"Oh thank god", I say, "I thought it was just me!"
Now it might be because the things are basically pure spirits, or because Nic and I are total pussies, but we both agreed that the Martini's were just too much for us tonight. Despite being a beautiful idea.
Another five minutes later, we had refilled with glasses with gin and tonic with lime.. and we were merrily drinking our way through the gin bottle in no time.
Meanwhile, gin-soaked-blue-cheese-stuffed-olives are freaking delicious.
PS. I've also discovered a new type of gin here - Tanqueray has brought our a line called "Rangpur" - and it's 'lime botanical' infused. Absolutely brilliant.So here's hoping it comes to Australia!!
Anyway, Nic said to me "Oh have you ever had a dirty martini with blue cheesed stuffed olives? They're great!"
"Really!?" I exclaim, "I've never even had a Dirty Martini! Let alone with blue cheese stuffed olives!"
So of course, 5 minutes later, we decide to hit the shops on the way home and gather all the necessary ingredients.
So while I cook us a (delicious, may I say) pasta dinner from leftovers in the fridge, Nic does the following:
1. Stuffs olives with blue cheese
2. Googles a dirty martini recipe
3. Locates her cocktail shaker
4. Carefully measures some gin and vermouth
5. Shakes it up (shaken, not stirred, baby)
6. Pours two beautiful martini's, complete with toothpicks for our blue cheese stuffed olives.
Mmmm Mmm.
So five minutes later, we've both eaten some pasta and declared how delicious these martinis are.
Five more minutes later, we've both eaten most of our pasta, and taken.... two sips of our drink?
Another five minutes, the pasta is pretty much gone... not so much the martinis.
"Holy shit," says Nic "I don't think I can handle this martini."
"Oh thank god", I say, "I thought it was just me!"
Now it might be because the things are basically pure spirits, or because Nic and I are total pussies, but we both agreed that the Martini's were just too much for us tonight. Despite being a beautiful idea.
Another five minutes later, we had refilled with glasses with gin and tonic with lime.. and we were merrily drinking our way through the gin bottle in no time.
Meanwhile, gin-soaked-blue-cheese-stuffed-olives are freaking delicious.
PS. I've also discovered a new type of gin here - Tanqueray has brought our a line called "Rangpur" - and it's 'lime botanical' infused. Absolutely brilliant.So here's hoping it comes to Australia!!
Scrabble, The Emergency Room & a Shit Hot Leather Jacket
So I've spent only 36 hours in the state of New Jersey so far, but it hasn't been uneventful!
1. I beat Nic at Scrabble (sorry Nic, I know you're going to read this, it was close, but it's true. I won. And we're not AT ALL competitive!) Highlight word was "Quacks" or when I ruined her turn with "Xi" (the Kinsella family alone will appreciate that one).
2. Emergency Room. In the middle of our Scrabble game, little Robert (my nephew) developed a fever of 103.5 degrees farenheit. Not good. So off we went to the Emergency Room to get him checked out.
3 hours, a lot of angry screaming, several thermometers up the butt (Robert's butt, that is), and a chest x-ray later, and we were back home at an ungodly hour of the morning. At this point I had had about 4 hours sleep in the previous 72 hours, so it was amazing I was still functional. But at least I could keep Nic company throughout what is never an enjoyable ordeal, and most importantly, Robert is fine, although he's still running a bit of a fever on and off, poor little munchkin.
3. A shit-hot leather jacket. After our late night at the hospital, we had a pretty chilled out morning with the bub, before leaving him home (watching SuperPets!) with his Dad, and hitting some local outlet stores. Lo and behold, I walk into the second store and find, hidden on a rack in the back, a black leather jacket - almost exactly the same as my blue one (for those people intimate with my wardrobe). It was the only one there, it was more than half price reduced, and it fit me like a glove! I know I'm going to Italy tomorrow, so I wasn't planning to buy leather in America - but the jacket is fucking hot. And cheap! Total shopping score. Oh and considering how much Heidi loves my blue jacket, she's going to hate me when she sees this one!
1. I beat Nic at Scrabble (sorry Nic, I know you're going to read this, it was close, but it's true. I won. And we're not AT ALL competitive!) Highlight word was "Quacks" or when I ruined her turn with "Xi" (the Kinsella family alone will appreciate that one).
2. Emergency Room. In the middle of our Scrabble game, little Robert (my nephew) developed a fever of 103.5 degrees farenheit. Not good. So off we went to the Emergency Room to get him checked out.
3 hours, a lot of angry screaming, several thermometers up the butt (Robert's butt, that is), and a chest x-ray later, and we were back home at an ungodly hour of the morning. At this point I had had about 4 hours sleep in the previous 72 hours, so it was amazing I was still functional. But at least I could keep Nic company throughout what is never an enjoyable ordeal, and most importantly, Robert is fine, although he's still running a bit of a fever on and off, poor little munchkin.
3. A shit-hot leather jacket. After our late night at the hospital, we had a pretty chilled out morning with the bub, before leaving him home (watching SuperPets!) with his Dad, and hitting some local outlet stores. Lo and behold, I walk into the second store and find, hidden on a rack in the back, a black leather jacket - almost exactly the same as my blue one (for those people intimate with my wardrobe). It was the only one there, it was more than half price reduced, and it fit me like a glove! I know I'm going to Italy tomorrow, so I wasn't planning to buy leather in America - but the jacket is fucking hot. And cheap! Total shopping score. Oh and considering how much Heidi loves my blue jacket, she's going to hate me when she sees this one!
Sunday, August 1, 2010
10 Things I learnt about Dancing in Puerto Rico
(note: this list was compiled on an airplane, on zero sleep.)
1. You can never have too much groove.
2. You CAN have too much costume bling (I didn't think it was possible, but it is)
3. All male dancers should have diamantes stuck in their hair. Get with it Australia, you can sparkle like a princess and still be macho.
4. When lost for styling ideas, shake your arms in the air like a mad person being attacked by bees. It works. Promise.
5. When walking on and off stage, be sure to wiggle your ass. And I mean WIGGLE YOUR ASS. Now do it with 'tude.
6. Shaving random patterns into your hair makes you a better dancer. Especially if you shave the word "salsero".
7. Don't get on stage unless you're going to bring it, and bring it hard.
8. Holding up one or two fingers is the universal language of salsa dancers (on1 or on2?)
9. The music is everything.
10. Everybody can be who they want to be on the dancefloor.
(oh did I mention I also tend to wax slightly philisophical when on zero sleep? I'm sorry. I can't contain it. But more fool you- you're reading this tripe!!)
1. You can never have too much groove.
2. You CAN have too much costume bling (I didn't think it was possible, but it is)
3. All male dancers should have diamantes stuck in their hair. Get with it Australia, you can sparkle like a princess and still be macho.
4. When lost for styling ideas, shake your arms in the air like a mad person being attacked by bees. It works. Promise.
5. When walking on and off stage, be sure to wiggle your ass. And I mean WIGGLE YOUR ASS. Now do it with 'tude.
6. Shaving random patterns into your hair makes you a better dancer. Especially if you shave the word "salsero".
7. Don't get on stage unless you're going to bring it, and bring it hard.
8. Holding up one or two fingers is the universal language of salsa dancers (on1 or on2?)
9. The music is everything.
10. Everybody can be who they want to be on the dancefloor.
(oh did I mention I also tend to wax slightly philisophical when on zero sleep? I'm sorry. I can't contain it. But more fool you- you're reading this tripe!!)
Status Update: Outside JFK
Sunday 1:30pm, New York Time.
Sitting outside JFK Airport waiting for Nic to pick me up.
Weather is cool compared to Puerto Rico, and the humidity is significantly less, which is a pleasant change.
After our flight from San Juan, I sent the rest of the group off on the train to Manhattan where they will spend the next two days sightseeing. I will spend those days with my sister, her husband, and my littlest newphew, and then meet the rest of the group at Newark airport for our flight to Italy.
Sitting on the side of the road reflecting on my time in San Juan, it almost feels dreamlike. The whole week passes so quickly it's like living in a spectacular multi-coloured blur. A kaleidescope of people, places, music, dancing and emotions.
Still, despite my lack of sleep and farewell to Puerto Rico for another year, there are no complaints from me just yet, as I still have Europe ahead.
After Europe? I expect some serious post-holiday depression to set in!!
Sitting outside JFK Airport waiting for Nic to pick me up.
Weather is cool compared to Puerto Rico, and the humidity is significantly less, which is a pleasant change.
After our flight from San Juan, I sent the rest of the group off on the train to Manhattan where they will spend the next two days sightseeing. I will spend those days with my sister, her husband, and my littlest newphew, and then meet the rest of the group at Newark airport for our flight to Italy.
Sitting on the side of the road reflecting on my time in San Juan, it almost feels dreamlike. The whole week passes so quickly it's like living in a spectacular multi-coloured blur. A kaleidescope of people, places, music, dancing and emotions.
Still, despite my lack of sleep and farewell to Puerto Rico for another year, there are no complaints from me just yet, as I still have Europe ahead.
After Europe? I expect some serious post-holiday depression to set in!!
Moments
The thing I hate and love about travel is the moments. Those precise pieces of time where you stand and recognize that this, right here, right now, is a moment you never want to forget.
And yet in a way, it’s impossible to ever really remember them at all.
It’s when you feel inspired, or touched, or amazed, and you’re hit with a sudden understanding that only comes unexpected and unasked for. And you want to grip onto that moment, hold onto desperately – burn it into your memory so you never, ever forget what it feels like to be, in this exact place, this exact feeling. It’s both beautiful and sad, and the more we know we are going to forget, the more desperate we become to remember. Or if we can’t remember, then just to draw out the moment. To make it last as long as possible. To feel every heartbeat, until the moment is no longer.
And then we wait for the next one.
And yet in a way, it’s impossible to ever really remember them at all.
It’s when you feel inspired, or touched, or amazed, and you’re hit with a sudden understanding that only comes unexpected and unasked for. And you want to grip onto that moment, hold onto desperately – burn it into your memory so you never, ever forget what it feels like to be, in this exact place, this exact feeling. It’s both beautiful and sad, and the more we know we are going to forget, the more desperate we become to remember. Or if we can’t remember, then just to draw out the moment. To make it last as long as possible. To feel every heartbeat, until the moment is no longer.
And then we wait for the next one.
Status Update: Sunday Morning
Location: Hotel room 807, El San Juan Hotel & Casino, Puerto Rico
Time: 4am
The question: To sleep or not to sleep?
Status: Carlos, Elli, Juan, Colin and I are all boarding a plane for New York at 9:30am. This means leaving for the airport at 6:30am. Which is only a couple of hours away. So do I try to crash out and then wake up again? Or try to stay up until the flight. Decisions Decisions. Meanwhile, Mandee and Sonia and I are watching King Kong on tv. The girls have an extra day in Puerto Rico, as their plane doesn’t leave til 7pm, so they’re planning a day of lounging by the pool while we’re on our 7 hour flight.
Sad: I’m sad to leave Puerto Rico. It’s an unexplainable event full of so many amazing moments. Plus it re-inspires me to dance like a maniac (in a good way).
Happy: I’m looking forward to seeing Nic (my sister) and little Robert (my nephew) who I’m told has turned into a little terror since last year. We’ll see!
Time: 4am
The question: To sleep or not to sleep?
Status: Carlos, Elli, Juan, Colin and I are all boarding a plane for New York at 9:30am. This means leaving for the airport at 6:30am. Which is only a couple of hours away. So do I try to crash out and then wake up again? Or try to stay up until the flight. Decisions Decisions. Meanwhile, Mandee and Sonia and I are watching King Kong on tv. The girls have an extra day in Puerto Rico, as their plane doesn’t leave til 7pm, so they’re planning a day of lounging by the pool while we’re on our 7 hour flight.
Sad: I’m sad to leave Puerto Rico. It’s an unexplainable event full of so many amazing moments. Plus it re-inspires me to dance like a maniac (in a good way).
Happy: I’m looking forward to seeing Nic (my sister) and little Robert (my nephew) who I’m told has turned into a little terror since last year. We’ll see!
All in a Day’s Work (the magical moments of Mandee)
To make sure I didn’t forget her for the rest of my trip, Mandee managed to cram in some hilariously typical Mandee moments on our final day in Puerto Rico. Let me share some highlights:
1. 6pm: Mandee falls off the stage as we exit after our performance. Yes falls. Completely. Lands on her knee and nearly brings Carlos down with her as well. Which would have toppled all of us (could our performance get any more embarrassing after the complete choreo fuckup? well yes, possibly if we all collapsed down the stairs like dominos!)
2. 11pm: Mandee, Sonia and I are leaving our room and walking down the hallway to the elevator. Mandee (not wearing her glasses and thinking we were alone in the hallway) prounounces loudly: “Look, my nipples are out!” Meanwhile, the guy two doors down from us is also walking down the hall, and he can’t help but look up and laugh at this statement. His response as we all got in the elevator together: “Come on? Where are the nipples? You said they were out!”
3. 2am: We’re sitting at the bar in the local Trattoria, having late night gelati from the hot “Gelati Boy” (also known as Jimmy) when Mandee says loudly, “does it snow here in wintertime?” Now remember readers, we are currently sitting on a tropical island in the Carribbean. Snow? Hmmmm! I think I laughed so hard I might have wet myself in public.
4. 2:15am As if this all hadn’t been enough, we’re walking back to our hotel room, discussing the hotness of the gelati boy, when Mandee prounounces loudly “Nah, he’s too skinny for me anyway, I like them nice and cuddly so you can really get a hold of them” the punchline? At that exact moment, the same guy from two doors down leaves him room, just in time to overhear Mandee’s comment. Needless to say, I think we were his free entertainment for the night.
But the real quote of the trip remains the very first, and very classic Mandee comment:
“Hi, I’m Mandee, do you dance salsa?”
She’s never, ever going to live that one down.
1. 6pm: Mandee falls off the stage as we exit after our performance. Yes falls. Completely. Lands on her knee and nearly brings Carlos down with her as well. Which would have toppled all of us (could our performance get any more embarrassing after the complete choreo fuckup? well yes, possibly if we all collapsed down the stairs like dominos!)
2. 11pm: Mandee, Sonia and I are leaving our room and walking down the hallway to the elevator. Mandee (not wearing her glasses and thinking we were alone in the hallway) prounounces loudly: “Look, my nipples are out!” Meanwhile, the guy two doors down from us is also walking down the hall, and he can’t help but look up and laugh at this statement. His response as we all got in the elevator together: “Come on? Where are the nipples? You said they were out!”
3. 2am: We’re sitting at the bar in the local Trattoria, having late night gelati from the hot “Gelati Boy” (also known as Jimmy) when Mandee says loudly, “does it snow here in wintertime?” Now remember readers, we are currently sitting on a tropical island in the Carribbean. Snow? Hmmmm! I think I laughed so hard I might have wet myself in public.
4. 2:15am As if this all hadn’t been enough, we’re walking back to our hotel room, discussing the hotness of the gelati boy, when Mandee prounounces loudly “Nah, he’s too skinny for me anyway, I like them nice and cuddly so you can really get a hold of them” the punchline? At that exact moment, the same guy from two doors down leaves him room, just in time to overhear Mandee’s comment. Needless to say, I think we were his free entertainment for the night.
But the real quote of the trip remains the very first, and very classic Mandee comment:
“Hi, I’m Mandee, do you dance salsa?”
She’s never, ever going to live that one down.
The Magic of Music (Saturday)
Standing a few metres away from the final band tonight, I was reminded yet again that music makes everything better. It wasn’t a great day – that’s for sure. I (as you all know) am a perfectionist that always wants to the best job possible, and today I was completely devastated that we represented so badly.
But as I stood there and listened to the live music (and they were a freaking awesome band!) I remembered that ultimately, tomorrow I’ll dance again. Next time we’ll have to work harder, train longer, focus more, and do a better job – but no matter what, the music will always be there - just waiting to make me want to try it all again.
But as I stood there and listened to the live music (and they were a freaking awesome band!) I remembered that ultimately, tomorrow I’ll dance again. Next time we’ll have to work harder, train longer, focus more, and do a better job – but no matter what, the music will always be there - just waiting to make me want to try it all again.
Status Update: The Competition (Saturday)
I am sorry Australia. That’s all I can say. Because today Latin Steps did not do you justice. Or more specifically, Jason and I did not.
What can I say? 20 seconds into the choreography my partner completely, totally and utterly forgot the choreography. He blanked.
I tried my hardest to keep dancing, and get back into the routine, but it was a long long time before he managed to pick me back up on a triple spin (which I was at that point leading myself, with one arm in the air – waiting for him to grab me) and then we were back. Far too late. Far, Far too late.
For the thousands of people watching our routine (both live, and on live streaming on the internet) it was an embarrassment of epic proportions. I have never, ever, had a routine go that badly in my entire life. And it had to happen on the stage in Puerto Rico, at the World Championships, while representing Australia. I pretty much nearly vomited when we came off stage (only remedied by the 5+ tequila shots Carlos gave me).
What can I say? My partner in this routine was not super experienced at competing or performing, and he was not focused enough coming into this performance. The pressure got to him at the last moment, and he freaked. It can happen to anyone – but man I wish it hadn’t happened to us on this particular day.
The worst thing? I’m not sure. Letting down the team. Letting down Carlos and Elli – who work so hard for our team. Letting down Australia by putting up such a poor show while representing our country. And also just my own personal embarrassment at being part of ‘the couple who forgot the routine’. At least I kept smiling throughout all of it. How’s that for showmanship?!
In 2009, one of the highlights of the entire year for me was the kickass performance we did on the stage of Puerto Rico. Needless to say, I’ll need to find a different highlight for 2010.
What can I say? 20 seconds into the choreography my partner completely, totally and utterly forgot the choreography. He blanked.
I tried my hardest to keep dancing, and get back into the routine, but it was a long long time before he managed to pick me back up on a triple spin (which I was at that point leading myself, with one arm in the air – waiting for him to grab me) and then we were back. Far too late. Far, Far too late.
For the thousands of people watching our routine (both live, and on live streaming on the internet) it was an embarrassment of epic proportions. I have never, ever, had a routine go that badly in my entire life. And it had to happen on the stage in Puerto Rico, at the World Championships, while representing Australia. I pretty much nearly vomited when we came off stage (only remedied by the 5+ tequila shots Carlos gave me).
What can I say? My partner in this routine was not super experienced at competing or performing, and he was not focused enough coming into this performance. The pressure got to him at the last moment, and he freaked. It can happen to anyone – but man I wish it hadn’t happened to us on this particular day.
The worst thing? I’m not sure. Letting down the team. Letting down Carlos and Elli – who work so hard for our team. Letting down Australia by putting up such a poor show while representing our country. And also just my own personal embarrassment at being part of ‘the couple who forgot the routine’. At least I kept smiling throughout all of it. How’s that for showmanship?!
In 2009, one of the highlights of the entire year for me was the kickass performance we did on the stage of Puerto Rico. Needless to say, I’ll need to find a different highlight for 2010.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Status Update: Friday
Caitlin is sick. ARGH.
Not sick like last year, just a really bad cold/flu. I had to skip the social dancing last night and slept for 14 hours straight (with the aid of some cold and flu meds). Unfortunately that hasn't knocked it over, and I'm still pretty bad today.
I'll struggle on though. Try and do what I can today, but still rest up for our competition tomorrow night. Yes that's right, we'll be hitting the famous stage ourselves tomorrow night to compete as a team... here's hoping we manage to get through the choreo with no mistakes! There's nothing quite as intimidating as performing in front of that crowd. If they love you - they let you know. If they don't....
crickets.
Not sick like last year, just a really bad cold/flu. I had to skip the social dancing last night and slept for 14 hours straight (with the aid of some cold and flu meds). Unfortunately that hasn't knocked it over, and I'm still pretty bad today.
I'll struggle on though. Try and do what I can today, but still rest up for our competition tomorrow night. Yes that's right, we'll be hitting the famous stage ourselves tomorrow night to compete as a team... here's hoping we manage to get through the choreo with no mistakes! There's nothing quite as intimidating as performing in front of that crowd. If they love you - they let you know. If they don't....
crickets.
The Competition: Thursday
So on Thursday afternoon, the second round of the competition kicked off. This is a choreography round, where couples who have won their national title (or pre-qualified the day before) perform a 2 minute choreography to fight for the right to make it into the semi-final.
This year there were 22 couples competing, with 13 to make it through to the semi-final round.
Our own Uly and Jas competed in this round, and did a great job. Unfortunately they diodn't make it into the semi's, but theirs competition was ridiculously amazing!
Special mentions from this round to a Brazilian couple (who were Elli and my favourites last year) and again the Italian couple from Tropical Gem.
Following the second qualifier, a semi-final round then reduced the numbers to just eight couples.
The plot thickened with this round, as Adrian and Anita from Spain, who have won this competition twice before and narrowly missed out on a third consecutive win last year (after he threw her to the floor in a final trick gone wrong) also appeared to make their debut in the semis (as past champions they didn't need to complete earlier rounds).
The betting is already beginning as to who will take out the crown, and the crowd is going to be loud and crazy on the night of the final. Can a hometown (Puerto Rican) couple take the crown? Will the Italians nail it? Will Spain complete a year in which they already won the Soccer and take the Salsa as well?
Stay tuned! (Literally - if you like - the whole competition streams live here:
http://www.puertoricosalsacongress.com/2010/content/video_live.html
This year there were 22 couples competing, with 13 to make it through to the semi-final round.
Our own Uly and Jas competed in this round, and did a great job. Unfortunately they diodn't make it into the semi's, but theirs competition was ridiculously amazing!
Special mentions from this round to a Brazilian couple (who were Elli and my favourites last year) and again the Italian couple from Tropical Gem.
Following the second qualifier, a semi-final round then reduced the numbers to just eight couples.
The plot thickened with this round, as Adrian and Anita from Spain, who have won this competition twice before and narrowly missed out on a third consecutive win last year (after he threw her to the floor in a final trick gone wrong) also appeared to make their debut in the semis (as past champions they didn't need to complete earlier rounds).
The betting is already beginning as to who will take out the crown, and the crowd is going to be loud and crazy on the night of the final. Can a hometown (Puerto Rican) couple take the crown? Will the Italians nail it? Will Spain complete a year in which they already won the Soccer and take the Salsa as well?
Stay tuned! (Literally - if you like - the whole competition streams live here:
http://www.puertoricosalsacongress.com/2010/content/video_live.html
The Competition- Wednesday
So on Wednesday the competition officially began with the first round of the couples division. This is a 'last minute' qualifier, where people from around the world who placed 2nd - 8th in their national championships, or whose country doesn't have one, can compete for the right to win the World Salsa Open title.
The couples each come out in groups of three, and freestyle to a song. The judges then decide which couples will go through to the second elimination round.
This year there were 18 couples competing for the right to make it to the choreography round. Only 6 of them were chosen to go through. This included the stand out performers of the round - none other than Fernando (Mandee's new 'friend' from Tropical Gem).
The standard of the freestyle dancers were amazing. Yet this was just a taste of what was to come.
The couples each come out in groups of three, and freestyle to a song. The judges then decide which couples will go through to the second elimination round.
This year there were 18 couples competing for the right to make it to the choreography round. Only 6 of them were chosen to go through. This included the stand out performers of the round - none other than Fernando (Mandee's new 'friend' from Tropical Gem).
The standard of the freestyle dancers were amazing. Yet this was just a taste of what was to come.
Status Update: Wednesday
What can I say? Sun. Sleep. Salsa.
Occasional gin and tonic or tequila shot.
More sun, not enough sleep, more salsa.
Occasional gin and tonic or tequila shot.
More sun, not enough sleep, more salsa.
Status Update: Tuesday 2pm
Location: Hotel, San Juan
Weather: Beautiful, hot and sunny. Love it.
Best shopping moment so far: An awesome pair of new dance shoes. My feet don’t hurt nearly as badly today. Mandee, Elli and I all bought the same pair and they are super cushioned.
Best food moment so far: The marinated steak at Latin Roots. Although there was also an awesome quesadilla at a local café recommended to us by a security guard we chatted to.
Best new friends so far: A couple Carlos met from Malaga, Spain (Jose & Maria). They don’t speak a lot of English (so it’s a good stretch for my Spanish to understand them), but are absolutely lovely. They’re competing as a couple this week, so we’ll be cheering them on as well as our own Aussie couple (Uly & Jas).
Cutest compliment so far: A couple stops to ask Elli and I if we are Italian. She says “You dance so beautifully you must be from Italy.” I explain we’re from Australia. They are shocked. They chat between themselves, then the man turns back to me and says “Australia, Nicole Kidman country!!”
Weather: Beautiful, hot and sunny. Love it.
Best shopping moment so far: An awesome pair of new dance shoes. My feet don’t hurt nearly as badly today. Mandee, Elli and I all bought the same pair and they are super cushioned.
Best food moment so far: The marinated steak at Latin Roots. Although there was also an awesome quesadilla at a local café recommended to us by a security guard we chatted to.
Best new friends so far: A couple Carlos met from Malaga, Spain (Jose & Maria). They don’t speak a lot of English (so it’s a good stretch for my Spanish to understand them), but are absolutely lovely. They’re competing as a couple this week, so we’ll be cheering them on as well as our own Aussie couple (Uly & Jas).
Cutest compliment so far: A couple stops to ask Elli and I if we are Italian. She says “You dance so beautifully you must be from Italy.” I explain we’re from Australia. They are shocked. They chat between themselves, then the man turns back to me and says “Australia, Nicole Kidman country!!”
Mandee Meets 'Tropical Jam'
So for the non dancers reading this, there’s a brilliant Italian Salsa Team called “Tropical Gem”. They’re one of the best teams in the world, amazing to watch. They’ve been to Australia in the past, and are also all over youtube. I pretty much thought anyone who’d been heavily involved in the salsa scene for a few years (and who hangs out with us) would know who they are.
I didn’t count on the lovable Mandee.
Mandee Moment #1: Mandee overhears Elli and I talking about the fact that Fernando from Tropical Gem has definitely been sighted in the hotel. We were excited, because last year they were meant to come to the congress but didn’t. Mandee overhears us and asks who’s we’re talking about. Elli explains. A little later Mandee explains proudly (and loudly) to a newcomer to the group “Oh they’re excited because Tropical Jam is at the congress.” Needless to say we can’t contain our laughter as we explain it’s “Gem” not “Jam”. Mandee’s response? “Well tropical jam sounds better anyway. Cause it sounds like something you can eat!”
Mandee Moment #2: A little later that same day, we get in the lift with the very same Fernando from Tropical Gem. I’d had a brief encounter with him a bit earlier, and as Mandee had been with me, I thought she also knew who he was. I had forgotten the fact she can’t see anyone’s face without her glass on.
“Hi. I’m Mandee. Do you dance salsa?”
Yes. Mandee just asked Italy’s best if he dances salsa. I try to contain my laughter at the back of the elevator. Fernando just smiles and says “Yes I do.”
Mandee continues: “Oh, so you’re here for the congress?”
Fernando: “Yes, teaching and competing.”
Mandee: “Oh great. Me too. Good luck!”
We arrive at Fernando’s level and he smiles, thanks her and exits.
I finally burst into audible giggles as I explain to Mandee that she just asked the head dancer of ‘Tropical Jam’ if he dances salsa. It’s like meeting Eddie Vedder in the lift and asking if he’s ever played a guitar.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen her turn as bright red as she did in that moment.
I didn’t count on the lovable Mandee.
Mandee Moment #1: Mandee overhears Elli and I talking about the fact that Fernando from Tropical Gem has definitely been sighted in the hotel. We were excited, because last year they were meant to come to the congress but didn’t. Mandee overhears us and asks who’s we’re talking about. Elli explains. A little later Mandee explains proudly (and loudly) to a newcomer to the group “Oh they’re excited because Tropical Jam is at the congress.” Needless to say we can’t contain our laughter as we explain it’s “Gem” not “Jam”. Mandee’s response? “Well tropical jam sounds better anyway. Cause it sounds like something you can eat!”
Mandee Moment #2: A little later that same day, we get in the lift with the very same Fernando from Tropical Gem. I’d had a brief encounter with him a bit earlier, and as Mandee had been with me, I thought she also knew who he was. I had forgotten the fact she can’t see anyone’s face without her glass on.
“Hi. I’m Mandee. Do you dance salsa?”
Yes. Mandee just asked Italy’s best if he dances salsa. I try to contain my laughter at the back of the elevator. Fernando just smiles and says “Yes I do.”
Mandee continues: “Oh, so you’re here for the congress?”
Fernando: “Yes, teaching and competing.”
Mandee: “Oh great. Me too. Good luck!”
We arrive at Fernando’s level and he smiles, thanks her and exits.
I finally burst into audible giggles as I explain to Mandee that she just asked the head dancer of ‘Tropical Jam’ if he dances salsa. It’s like meeting Eddie Vedder in the lift and asking if he’s ever played a guitar.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen her turn as bright red as she did in that moment.
Status Update: Monday
Time/Day: Monday 5pm
Location: our room, El San Juan Hotel
Jetlag status: We feel fine, but are not even remotely in the right time zone. But as we’re going to bed every night between 3 and 5am after dancing …. Well it’s hard to establish a ‘normal’ rhythm. At the moment we wake up around 11 or 12, and then have an early evening siesta before the party starts. This will become a problem once we start doing training and workshops all day. Lucky red bull is cheap over here!
Highlight Moment: American Airlines calls to say that Mandee’s bag has been located. It will be at the hotel by 7:30pm. Mandee does an ecstatic happy dance. She can finally stop recycling her underwear (wait, did I just say that out loud?)
Location: our room, El San Juan Hotel
Jetlag status: We feel fine, but are not even remotely in the right time zone. But as we’re going to bed every night between 3 and 5am after dancing …. Well it’s hard to establish a ‘normal’ rhythm. At the moment we wake up around 11 or 12, and then have an early evening siesta before the party starts. This will become a problem once we start doing training and workshops all day. Lucky red bull is cheap over here!
Highlight Moment: American Airlines calls to say that Mandee’s bag has been located. It will be at the hotel by 7:30pm. Mandee does an ecstatic happy dance. She can finally stop recycling her underwear (wait, did I just say that out loud?)
The Saturation of Salsa
It’s hard to explain to my Australian (non-dancing) friends, the culture of salsa in Puerto Rico. When you walk into the hotel elevators, Salsa music plays over the hotel loud-speaker. When you wander around the streets of Old San Juan, salsa music floats out of all the bars you pass. It doesn’t matter that the old Puerto Rican couple in the restaurant don’t know fancy footwork and complicated turn patterns, their bodies just feel the groove as the music talks to them.
On Sunday, we went to lunch at a local restaurant owned by one of the members of El Gran Combo (one of the world’s best, and my personal favourite, salsa band). Called “Latin Roots” the restaurant was tucked away on a side-street of Old San Juan, which we got to by taxi (after negotiating our price – taxis in Puerto Rico don’t have functional meters, so if you ever visit, make sure to negotiate the price before you get in.)
The restaurant tables were spread around the outside of a dance floor, with a stage for – wait for it – the live band. Yep, every day you can find amazing live music to get your foot tapping while you eat. The band was a 5 piece that day (quite small for a salsa band) but they were fantastic, and filled the room easily with some brilliant beats. Sure enough, it didn’t take long for us to start the dance floor, much to the delight of the locals – who were thrilled to find out that people dance salsa in Australia!
But the unforgettable moment for me was not our dancing, or the amazing music, or even the tasty food. It was at the end of our meal, when the band played a slow cha cha cha. There were about five older Puerto Rican couples on the floor dancing. All of them danced for each other. Completely captured in their own private worlds. Just them, their bodies, and the smooth, smooth music. Maybe it was caused by the VERY strong gin and tonic (possibly missing tonic?) I had with lunch, but I felt a warm glow at what was a completely beautiful moment.
That is why I dance.
On Sunday, we went to lunch at a local restaurant owned by one of the members of El Gran Combo (one of the world’s best, and my personal favourite, salsa band). Called “Latin Roots” the restaurant was tucked away on a side-street of Old San Juan, which we got to by taxi (after negotiating our price – taxis in Puerto Rico don’t have functional meters, so if you ever visit, make sure to negotiate the price before you get in.)
The restaurant tables were spread around the outside of a dance floor, with a stage for – wait for it – the live band. Yep, every day you can find amazing live music to get your foot tapping while you eat. The band was a 5 piece that day (quite small for a salsa band) but they were fantastic, and filled the room easily with some brilliant beats. Sure enough, it didn’t take long for us to start the dance floor, much to the delight of the locals – who were thrilled to find out that people dance salsa in Australia!
But the unforgettable moment for me was not our dancing, or the amazing music, or even the tasty food. It was at the end of our meal, when the band played a slow cha cha cha. There were about five older Puerto Rican couples on the floor dancing. All of them danced for each other. Completely captured in their own private worlds. Just them, their bodies, and the smooth, smooth music. Maybe it was caused by the VERY strong gin and tonic (possibly missing tonic?) I had with lunch, but I felt a warm glow at what was a completely beautiful moment.
That is why I dance.
Status Update: 4am
Time/Day: Sunday, 4am
Location: Our hotel room, San Juan
Highlight: Yet again the three girls lie down and try to pretend we can’t feel our feet. Tonight the band maybe wasn’t quite as hot, but the dancing was even better. I found the young kid I danced with last year at the congress – and we tore it up on the floor. Plus I ended the night of a string of about ten amazing dancers in a row – each better than the last. Pretty sure I lost a few kilos in sweat, but it was totally worth it!
Highlight #2: The Puerto Rican man-posse hasn’t made an appearance yet, but we’ve already found some VERY good looking tight-shirted men to perve on. Such a pity they like boys!
Location: Our hotel room, San Juan
Highlight: Yet again the three girls lie down and try to pretend we can’t feel our feet. Tonight the band maybe wasn’t quite as hot, but the dancing was even better. I found the young kid I danced with last year at the congress – and we tore it up on the floor. Plus I ended the night of a string of about ten amazing dancers in a row – each better than the last. Pretty sure I lost a few kilos in sweat, but it was totally worth it!
Highlight #2: The Puerto Rican man-posse hasn’t made an appearance yet, but we’ve already found some VERY good looking tight-shirted men to perve on. Such a pity they like boys!
Sunday, Puerto Rico
Sunday started with swimming, then sight-seeing, then salsa. A pretty awesome day.
Swimming: The amazing pool at our hotel is sure to become our hot-spot for the trip. Carlos reserved some great little bed/huts for us, and we spent the morning alternating between lazing in the sun (or shade for me) and pool-time.
Sight-seeing: We headed to a restaurant in Old San Juan (see “the saturation of salsa”) followed by some pina coladas and shopping. Then we headed back home for a quick siesta.
Salsa: Another night of amazing salsa! I can’t even explain the atmosphere, the crazy music, the awesome people. It really has to be experienced to be understood. God I love dancing in Puerto Rico.
Swimming: The amazing pool at our hotel is sure to become our hot-spot for the trip. Carlos reserved some great little bed/huts for us, and we spent the morning alternating between lazing in the sun (or shade for me) and pool-time.
Sight-seeing: We headed to a restaurant in Old San Juan (see “the saturation of salsa”) followed by some pina coladas and shopping. Then we headed back home for a quick siesta.
Salsa: Another night of amazing salsa! I can’t even explain the atmosphere, the crazy music, the awesome people. It really has to be experienced to be understood. God I love dancing in Puerto Rico.
The 'un-hibitions' of travel
I would never chat to strangers in the street in Brisbane. I would never stand up and dance and sing in a public place for no reason. I would never get tipsy on pina coladas and then go shopping.
This is why I love travel.
At home, in our natural environment, we are firmly in our comfort zone, and trapped by the inhibitions we have created for ourselves. Whether it’s social expectations, friends and family, fear of humiliation, laziness, or just the comfort of a settled routine – we’re rarely uninhibited.
Travelling? It’s like a free pass to do whatever the hell you want, feel, or have a vague inclination to try.
Now don’t get me wrong. It’s not like I do anything too crazy. I’m still me, but possibly a version of myself I like better. Someone who’s a little bit free-er, a little less worried, and a little more uninhibited. Even on the dance floor – when I’m in Puerto Rico, I honestly dance like nobody’s watching. And I have an absolute fucking ball.
This is why I love travel.
At home, in our natural environment, we are firmly in our comfort zone, and trapped by the inhibitions we have created for ourselves. Whether it’s social expectations, friends and family, fear of humiliation, laziness, or just the comfort of a settled routine – we’re rarely uninhibited.
Travelling? It’s like a free pass to do whatever the hell you want, feel, or have a vague inclination to try.
Now don’t get me wrong. It’s not like I do anything too crazy. I’m still me, but possibly a version of myself I like better. Someone who’s a little bit free-er, a little less worried, and a little more uninhibited. Even on the dance floor – when I’m in Puerto Rico, I honestly dance like nobody’s watching. And I have an absolute fucking ball.
Status Update: 3am
Time/Day: Saturday 3am
Location: Our plush hotel room in the El San Juan Casino.
Highlight: The three girls (Mandee, Sonia, and I) lie on the bed and breathe deeply through the pulsing agony in our over-danced feet. The first night was amazing. Band was hot. Plenty of good dancers. The highlight? I know there’s much better to come!
Location: Our plush hotel room in the El San Juan Casino.
Highlight: The three girls (Mandee, Sonia, and I) lie on the bed and breathe deeply through the pulsing agony in our over-danced feet. The first night was amazing. Band was hot. Plenty of good dancers. The highlight? I know there’s much better to come!
Saturday, San Juan, Puerto Rico
So we arrived in San Juan mid-morning, and headed straight for the hotel. A short taxi ride later, we were there, and I quickly located Mandee and Sonia in our room. But already, it seemed, minor travel disaster had struck.
Mandee’s bag was…..
Missing. Last seen in Los Angeles. Not seen since.
Uh Oh.
Still aside from the fact Mandee was now wearing Sonia’s bra and shorts and my singlet top, we were okay. Good news? She carried her costume on the plane.
Our first day in Puerto Rico was spent loading up on supplies, having a siesta, and trying to recover from jet lag. Then hitting the foyer downstairs for live music, and some seriously shit-hot salsa. WOOT WOOT!
Mandee’s bag was…..
Missing. Last seen in Los Angeles. Not seen since.
Uh Oh.
Still aside from the fact Mandee was now wearing Sonia’s bra and shorts and my singlet top, we were okay. Good news? She carried her costume on the plane.
Our first day in Puerto Rico was spent loading up on supplies, having a siesta, and trying to recover from jet lag. Then hitting the foyer downstairs for live music, and some seriously shit-hot salsa. WOOT WOOT!
Status Update: San Juan Day #1
Time/Day: Saturday, 2pm
Location: San Juan, Supermarket
Weather: Inside, a nice chilly air con. Outside, sunny, humid, and hot. Mmmmm.
Jet Lag: Still pretty bad.
Highlight: The supermarket is full of cheap booze. I pick up a bottle of Tanqueray No. 10 for $US30. The boys buy local rum in two-litre bottles. Uh oh.
Location: San Juan, Supermarket
Weather: Inside, a nice chilly air con. Outside, sunny, humid, and hot. Mmmmm.
Jet Lag: Still pretty bad.
Highlight: The supermarket is full of cheap booze. I pick up a bottle of Tanqueray No. 10 for $US30. The boys buy local rum in two-litre bottles. Uh oh.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Status Update: Santa Monica
Location: Spent the day on Santa Monica pier and surrounds. I was totally in a Sheryl Crow song.
Next Flight: In just a few hours we head to San Juan. Another 7 hour flight. eek!
Jetlag Status: Bad. Although I just had an hour long nap to save myself from complete breakdown, after Elli and I pretty much fell asleep on a bus in LA.
Weather: Still grey, although it warmed up a little in the afternoon.
Blingy Bear Highlight of the Day: "Wanted" by Santa Monica Police. What can I say - that little bear knows how to take a great selfie.
Next update will be in San Juan! Not sure on the wireless internet status over there, so don't hold your breath. Plus I make apologies in advance - I may be drinking pina coladas next time I'm typing. Josie please don't judge me for any resulting typos or poor grammar. You may sub-edit later.
Next Flight: In just a few hours we head to San Juan. Another 7 hour flight. eek!
Jetlag Status: Bad. Although I just had an hour long nap to save myself from complete breakdown, after Elli and I pretty much fell asleep on a bus in LA.
Weather: Still grey, although it warmed up a little in the afternoon.
Blingy Bear Highlight of the Day: "Wanted" by Santa Monica Police. What can I say - that little bear knows how to take a great selfie.
Next update will be in San Juan! Not sure on the wireless internet status over there, so don't hold your breath. Plus I make apologies in advance - I may be drinking pina coladas next time I'm typing. Josie please don't judge me for any resulting typos or poor grammar. You may sub-edit later.
Status Update: Lounging in LA
Status Update: Currently in LA, chilling with coffee at a hotel near the airport.
Next Flight: Tonight at midnight we leave LAX to head to San Juan, Puerto Rico.
Current Weather: Smoggy and cloudy. LA is disappointingly grey. Can't wait for sunny PR.
Quote of the day: "My only goal is to be the best! Oh wait, Juan and I are already the best!!" (Elli, claiming she's the best... note: last time she started claiming this, she then kicked Juan in the eye with a high heel... karma's a bitch ;)
PS - Bling Bear is already enjoying his first tour as Latin Steps Mascot.
Next Flight: Tonight at midnight we leave LAX to head to San Juan, Puerto Rico.
Current Weather: Smoggy and cloudy. LA is disappointingly grey. Can't wait for sunny PR.
Quote of the day: "My only goal is to be the best! Oh wait, Juan and I are already the best!!" (Elli, claiming she's the best... note: last time she started claiming this, she then kicked Juan in the eye with a high heel... karma's a bitch ;)
PS - Bling Bear is already enjoying his first tour as Latin Steps Mascot.
Day #1: Brisbane to LAX: Long-haul Highlights
A long haul plane flight is really a fascinating thing. No two experiences are ever exactly the same.
First, there’s the issue of personal space. Out in the real world, to lay your head gently on the shoulder of a perfect stranger, and possibly leak a little drool onto their clothes – this wlould be a social faux pas of massive propotions. To climb over the top of (and possibly step on) a deeply sleeping stranger in order to relieve your bladder? Unheard of. And even to breathe and re-breathe the air of a hundred strangers for 14 hours of enforced confinement while diligently counting down the hours til it’s over? Sounds a little like punishment. But this jail-time comes with a voluntary sign-on sheet and a sweet reward at the other end.
Plus – I must confess, I totally have a thing for plane food. Yes. I do. Really. The delicious mashed goo encased in shiny alfoil covers. The cheese and crackers waiting to be popped out of the plastic and into my mouth. The cute mini bottle of champagne and the stemless wine glass. The regular delivery of snacks. I’m like a little kid who gets christmas delivered over and over for fourteen hours.
So what were the particular highlights of this 14 hour haul from Brisbane to Los Angeles? Let me pick three:
1. Carlos, Elli and I were all the same flight. All seated in aisle seats in front/behind and beside each other. (We all appreciate a good aisle seat.) Not all passengers had boarded the plane yet, and Carlos still had two empty seats beside him. I had one empty seat beside me. “Hey Hey” says Carlos “Looks like I’m going to be comfy during this trip, I have all three seats to myself!” Elli responds: “No way, they just haven’t boarded yet papi, there will totally be people.” Caitlin backs her up: “I wouldn’t get too get excited Maestro. You’re not that lucky.” Carlos raises his finger as if about to speak great wisdom, “We’ll see who has the laugh last when I’m stretching out my legs in comfort and you’re both squashed in! And don’t think I’ll share my extra space with you for all your doubt!!” The punchline? Carlos had both seats beside him filled, while the seat beside me remained empty for the whole flight. Needless to say, I enjoyed the last laugh.
2. Elli and I discover we really are twinsies. According to Carlos we both fall asleep and then wake up at the same time. I’m not sure if this is a highlight, or if we’ve just spent way too much time travelling together.
3. Highlight 3 would have to be finally getting the first real twinges of excitement starting to kick some adrenalin into my bloodstream… after so much stress and craziness, I’m finally on holidays, I’m going to get to dance with the best in the world, AND I’ll see Europe for the first time.
What a high.
First, there’s the issue of personal space. Out in the real world, to lay your head gently on the shoulder of a perfect stranger, and possibly leak a little drool onto their clothes – this wlould be a social faux pas of massive propotions. To climb over the top of (and possibly step on) a deeply sleeping stranger in order to relieve your bladder? Unheard of. And even to breathe and re-breathe the air of a hundred strangers for 14 hours of enforced confinement while diligently counting down the hours til it’s over? Sounds a little like punishment. But this jail-time comes with a voluntary sign-on sheet and a sweet reward at the other end.
Plus – I must confess, I totally have a thing for plane food. Yes. I do. Really. The delicious mashed goo encased in shiny alfoil covers. The cheese and crackers waiting to be popped out of the plastic and into my mouth. The cute mini bottle of champagne and the stemless wine glass. The regular delivery of snacks. I’m like a little kid who gets christmas delivered over and over for fourteen hours.
So what were the particular highlights of this 14 hour haul from Brisbane to Los Angeles? Let me pick three:
1. Carlos, Elli and I were all the same flight. All seated in aisle seats in front/behind and beside each other. (We all appreciate a good aisle seat.) Not all passengers had boarded the plane yet, and Carlos still had two empty seats beside him. I had one empty seat beside me. “Hey Hey” says Carlos “Looks like I’m going to be comfy during this trip, I have all three seats to myself!” Elli responds: “No way, they just haven’t boarded yet papi, there will totally be people.” Caitlin backs her up: “I wouldn’t get too get excited Maestro. You’re not that lucky.” Carlos raises his finger as if about to speak great wisdom, “We’ll see who has the laugh last when I’m stretching out my legs in comfort and you’re both squashed in! And don’t think I’ll share my extra space with you for all your doubt!!” The punchline? Carlos had both seats beside him filled, while the seat beside me remained empty for the whole flight. Needless to say, I enjoyed the last laugh.
2. Elli and I discover we really are twinsies. According to Carlos we both fall asleep and then wake up at the same time. I’m not sure if this is a highlight, or if we’ve just spent way too much time travelling together.
3. Highlight 3 would have to be finally getting the first real twinges of excitement starting to kick some adrenalin into my bloodstream… after so much stress and craziness, I’m finally on holidays, I’m going to get to dance with the best in the world, AND I’ll see Europe for the first time.
What a high.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
The Night Before
It's beena hectic few weeks, but it's finlly here. Tour 2010 begins.
As I wrapped tour mascot "Bling Bear" (you'll meet him in future photos) in his pink tutu and diamantes, I thought to myself, "what adventures will he have to tell in four weeks time?"
Never mind, cause you'll get all the stories first - here on CaitOnTour.
Stay tuned!
As I wrapped tour mascot "Bling Bear" (you'll meet him in future photos) in his pink tutu and diamantes, I thought to myself, "what adventures will he have to tell in four weeks time?"
Never mind, cause you'll get all the stories first - here on CaitOnTour.
Stay tuned!
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