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!
Saturday, August 7, 2010
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!!
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