Alison, you would have been impressed.

After packing our bags and stuffing them in an office at school in Geneva, where we planned to come back and get them before heading to London, Jonathan and I were ready to explore new cities. He talked about wanting to see a concert in Barcelona, so why not. Madrid was on the list, too. That was my doing, of course. So we caught an afternoon flight to Barcelona and checked in to our hostel with just enough time to go find food and then come back and…pass out. Conveniently, we were in a 12 person room at a hostel centrally located in Barcelona. 

Las Ramblas

The other 10 people in our room we met earlier in the evening and again at 4am when they came in laughing and tripping over things. There were of course apologies but all I could muster at that point was, "umhmm s'ok". Oh the life of hostel living.

 The next morning we woke up early and headed down to the very touristy but symbolic Las Ramblas where we planned to meet Carly. This road is impossible to miss, with its tree-lined streets and almost tacky vendors and street performers trying to steal your money. 

But it's also one of the most lively and energetic areas of the city, too - a must see, actually. Minutes after meeting up with Carly we found ourselves in one of the greatest food markets known to man (at least that’s my opinion). Meats, cheese, olives, peppers, still living sea food, and much more could be found at this grand food palace. I bought a bag of dried banana chips and a few apples and cut myself off. Good thing, too, or I might never have stopped.

Park Güell

After the market perusing and food buying, we headed to the metro where we planned to take a train to see one of Gaudi’s greatest architectural marvels (again, this is my opinion): Park Güell. Antoni Gaudi, Barcelona’s master architect who lived in the city for many years until his death, is my favorite architect, and one that truly brought a new style to Barcelona’s buildings. 

This park is no different. It’s beautifully set at the top of a hill overlooking the city. Gaudi is known for his unique designs, which can be seen all over this park! Truly one of the most amazing places in this city!

After Park Güell, we headed to the other side of town to check out Gaudi’s other masterpiece: Sagrada Familia. It’s unfinished and will be until funds permit it. Gaudi refused to allow government money to build this work of art so the admission into Sagrada Familia is where the funding comes from. No telling how long it will take. Either way, it’s a must for visitors. 

Carly working on her navigational skills.

After Gaudi, we decided a quick nap was in order, followed by food. We wandered around finding a little café looking restaurant that served tapas, ordering everything from mushrooms to potatoes to beef. We then parted ways and Jonathan and I found ourselves at this bar around the corner where we were followed in by a bachelor party. Needless to say they didn’t make a very good impression on the staff. With matching t-shirts, beers in one hand and a blow up doll in the other, heads definitely turned. After being thoroughly entertained by the outgoingly obnoxious party, we left and headed back for the night. Another long day ahead of us to follow.

The next day consisted of shopping, street wandering and a grand tour of the coast. Barcelona has some amazing beaches (not necessarily because the water is crystal clear or that the sand is white; but it’s always crowded with people enjoying the sun). Even with jackets on, people are lining the beaches playing with their dogs, riding bikes or just sitting and enjoying the view. 

We walked down the beach for a while and turned back to make sure we had enough time. We had a concert to go to after all. But before we did, one more stop.

We took the metro back to the center of town. On the way back up to the hostel, we found an amazing outdoor seating area just near the end of Las Ramblas. It was situated next to a café that had so many choices of food, wine, coffee and beer, it was hard to decide what to have. We took our seats, after waiting a few minutes for a small group to slowly vacate the table, and ordered two beers and sandwiches. 

Afternoon beer anyone

It was just cool enough for jackets but people didn’t seem to mind it. After our afternoon snacks and a bit of time relaxing, we decided to head back towards the hostel. It was time to get ready for the concert.

I feel the need to explain the ticket hunting we did for this concert. Jonathan found out weeks before we left Geneva that My Chemical Romance was playing in Barcelona during our break. So we decided to go for it. He bought tickets and that was that. Getting the tickets, however, was a completely different story. The “simple” instructions given to Jonathan in Spanish told us to go to any ticketing booth strategically placed all over the city and pick them up there. Of course, what we didn’t know was that all of the instructions were in Catalan – a sort of off-shoot of Spanish adopted by those living in the region of Catalonia in Spain. Although Jonathan is fairly well-versed in Spanish, it becomes a bit harder when you add a Catalan twist. Catalan and Spanish are very similar, but not when trying to read instructions on how to print tickets. Overall, we went to about 7 or 8 booths all refusing to take his card, scan his confirmation sheet or give us directions in English. Needless to say it was an exhausting experience. Eventually, he just happened to confuse one machine enough to where it DID give us directions in English and then on to the printing. Now why couldn’t it have been that easy the first 86 tries?

The good news is the concert was amazing. It was at a building near the Olympic stadium, which overlooked the city. After singing and jammin' for about two and a half hours, we went back to the train by which we came only to find out it stopped running about 2 hours before. Hailing a taxi was our only option – conveniently, the ride back towards the center of town was much closer than we thought, which was comforting considering our taxi driver learned how to drive at Talladega (or the Spain equivalent). Back to the hostel. The next morning we were parting ways with Barcelona.

One of the cheapest ways to travel from one city to another is by bus. Therefore, our first thought was to go to the main bus station and catch a bus to Madrid from there. Yet, we didn’t anticipate the nearly 8 hour bus ride, which was only that long because 1) it definitely did not take a direct route to Madrid, and 2) it stopped nearly every 15 minutes. Our second choice? Rent a car of course. We were told the easiest place to rent a car to drive to Madrid was at the main train station. What we didn’t know was that we should have booked a car in advance. We arrived at the main train station only to find out that all three car rental shops had no cars available. Third choice? Take the train. Finally, Madrid here we come!

-          Brandy

Learning the hard way

Ok. I figured I'd bust tail to post several postings in a row to get us all caught up...here goes nothing.

We arrived in Geneva with great intentions of settling in and then seeing our new home. After so much traveling the few weeks before, two months of unpacked bags sounded nice. We got off the train coming back from Cognac (after a bus ride to a French town close to Cognac then a train ride to Paris where we switched trains again to head to Geneva) and dragged our bags to the front of the train station to hail a taxi. We knew we would be staying slightly outside the city. Apparently, that’s where they keep the Globals. But we had no idea we would be in a small Swiss town called Versoix, which included one bar, three grocery stories, about six restaurants and a view of the lake.

View of Lac Leman from Versoix

I feel the need to quit boring the audience. For those of you that know us quite well, you know that our time in Versoix was not exactly what we expected. To sum it up, the town was quite small, EVERYTHING was very expensive, the trains stopped running just after midnight (and only twice an hour all day in the direction of Geneva and back again), it was extremely cold but we saw no snow, and our heaters rarely worked. We made several trips into Geneva to find much of the same thing: a Big Mac meal at McDonalds cost around $15 and a tall café latte from Starbucks around $7. Needless to say, we stayed in more than we would have liked.

View of Geneva

I do have to admit, Switzerland could also be charming. There were days we would catch the train and just walk around the city, window shopping and exploring the town. Our university, Webster University, holds a Humanitarian Conference every year and this year we happened to be in town for it. 

Fondue night

After the conference, we were treated to a wine and fondue night at a local brasserie. We also had the opportunity to go skiing at the Swiss’ most famous landmark: the Matterhorn. (That weekend trip is another story in itself. Let’s just say within the first few hours of us being in Zermatt, Jonathan was sick and I lost my wallet. Oh and I suck at skiing. Apparently, there are no bunny slopes to learn the basics at the Matterhorn. 

Zermatt, Switzerland and the famous Matterhorn

Yet, I did learn well to fall down the mountain. I also learned when someone yells “pizza!” that means you have to point your toes inwards to make a pizza slice out of your skis, with the intentions of stopping. Unfortunately, I learned that the hard way. After eating snow for about two hours, I had finally had enough when I ate it so bad both skis came off and one pole flew out of my hand. I threw the other pole down as I trekked to get my skis, which was accompanied by numerous words I will never repeat in this blog, and a promise to never ski again. Jonathan apparently had better luck than I did, although one last good tumble made him say, “I better quit while I’m ahead.” I laugh about it now, but I was convinced I would never ski again. If that chance ever comes, there better be bunny slopes.)

The rest of our time in Geneva consisted of school work. Our classes did not demand much from us until the last few weeks so we did a lot of movie watching and food eating. When the day came, we were not sad to say goodbye to Versoix. Actually, we were quite glad to take the first flight out the day after my Humanitarian Issues class ended to Barcelona for a change of pace. Enough of this tiny Swiss town, on to better things. Au revoir, Geneva!!!

Brandy

Relaxing in the Land of Remy Martin

Still WAY behind but here is the next chapter of our journey (following Paris)…

We arrived in Cognac (two days after New Years) a little after 11 and were greeted by the lovely (and feisty) Lauren. She even brought a friend with her that was willing to loan his car services so we didn’t have to lug our suitcases all the way to Lauren’s. We settled in, chatted for a few, and then laid down for an extended nap time.

The view from Lauren's kitchen

I feel the need to mention here the goal of our trip to Cognac. Yes, the top priority was to see Lauren and explore the charming French town she’s run away to. But the other was to rest. We accomplished our mission. I’d say, even a little too well. Our first day in Cognac consisted of N.O.T.H.I.N.G. We didn’t get up until 10am and laid around Lauren’s apartment until lunch time when she came home so we could eat. She DID manage to drag us out for food. But of course, right after lunch, we headed back to Lauren’s to be productive…lies. We did just the opposite: we napped…until she got home from work. Again, the only thing that dragged our sorry tails off the couch was to make food. It’s a running theme throughout our stay in Cognac…

Comatose Jonathan

The next day we got up with intentions to do the exact same thing we did the day before. Naturally, I have to add a bit of a monkey wrench right about here. Jonathan woke up sick. So we played “sick day from school” and I made him sleep while I read and napped and…that’s it. Lauren did manage to join us for lunch again, although I’m sure the thought of leftovers is what brought her home this day, instead of seeing her lazy houseguests. Later that evening, however, Jonathan mustered up the courage to go to dinner. The only thing getting him out of bed was pizza.

Wednesday morning was much like the other days. I picked up sandwiches for us while Jonathan prepared himself to venture out for the afternoon. We had a date with Lauren at the Remy Martin house! Ohhhh Cognac, here we come. So we walked to Remy Martin and met our (once again) little French tour guide. We sampled a variety of what Remy Martin has to offer, along with food choices that matched each one. We also got to play the guessing game of, “what can you smell in this one?” I guessed cinnamon pretty much every time. I was right the last one.

Thursday, again, resembled much of what I’ve already described. Don’t forget, the goal of Cognac was 1) to see Lauren and 2) to rest. (I think we actually rested more than we saw Lauren…) Thursday evening, Lauren took us out to her local hangout where we met a few of her friends. Several. drinks. later. we finally got the native French speakers to speak English because, unfortunately, we don’t speak any French. By the end of the night we had one of them telling us “you’re not so bad for Americans”. Mission accomplished.

Friday was Lauren’s day off. She finally put her foot down and said we had to see Cognac before we left to head to Geneva, which was scheduled for later that evening. So we did. I saw more Cognac symbols that day than I ever have in my life. Remy Martin. Hennessy. Otard. Martell. So many! Not to mention Cognac is a charming town. We finally got to see where Lauren’s been for so long! Again, mission accomplished!

The rest of the afternoon was spent packing and getting ready to go to Geneva. We eventually made our way back to the bus stop to catch the bus that would take us to our train. We said our goodbyes to Lauren with the promise of her visiting us soon. Adios Cognac. It’s been lovely.

-          Brandy

Abbey Roadin'

We're really quite terrible at this...

This is for those of you who have asked for an update. Sorry it has taken so long to write about France…which we visited in January. But Geneva was all but inspiring and London has been nothing but.

After a week spending time with friends and family (for me at least), it was time to return back to Europe to prepare for school. Yet, how were we going to spend New Years Eve? After chatting with my dear friend Lauren who lives in Cognac, France, Jonathan and I decided to spend NYE in Paris.  Lauren planned to join us as well, so Jonathan and I met in Paris on December 30^th and intended to meet Lauren on the 31^st in front of the Lourve.

(I wrote a brief message for the blog while sitting in the airport, waiting for my flight to arrive. I included it below so you can get a feel the pain I felt while waiting in the Chicago airport…

December 29^th, 2010

“So maybe global warming does exist.”

It’s December 29^th, 2010. Three more days until 2011. I’m currently sitting in Chicago’s O’Hare Airport, listening to, what I’m guessing is, a 3 month old crying from across the room. If you know anything about me, you would know I’m not a baby person.

How did I get here you ask? Some of you may know I came home for Christmas. Because I have some time (approximately 4 hours until I leave this god-forsaken airport – I’ve already been here for 5 hours), I’ll BRIEFLY fill you in on my adventures in the States.

I said goodbye to Jonathan in Krabi on Sunday December 19^th. To make a long travel story short, I took a plane from Krabi to Bangkok (1.5 hrs), from Bangkok to Tokyo (6 hrs) and Tokyo to Atlanta (12 hrs) to make it home for Christmas. It was long. Very long.

I arrived home, greeted by my parents who picked me up at the airport. My adventures included seeing Harry Potter 7 (Part 1) with the parents; lunch with my Mari and a wonderful surprise visit from Alyssa; beer and queso night with the book club (Jenna, Heather, Katie, Cathleen) – then coffee, ‘cause I missed them that much J; shopping with mom; beer and queso night with the book club plus the crew (which also included Mari, Richie, Nick, Amanda, Brandon, Erin, Kristie, and Corey) ; coffee with Ali, Ronald and Jess (separately); Christmas Eve/Day with the fam; visits from family friends; visiting Jonathan’s families to say Happy Christmas and deliver presents; a night with my three best friends growing up – Mari, Lauren and Alyssa – where we discussed the recent ENGAGEMENT of Alyssa to her beau Kevin – lucky guy, CONGRATS!; and Harry Potter 7 (Part 1) again with the book club. HA. But I did manage to pack and relax a little, too. (I go into detail because I want everyone I mentioned to know I’m so glad I got to see them! Shouts of love to you all!)

So now, here I am. In Chicago. Waiting. Again. I leave at 9:55pm to head to Warsaw where I will AGAIN switch planes and head to Paris. Let’s hope the global snow storm will allow me to land on time in Warsaw and Paris. But, of course, I’m soooo excited to be in Paris tomorrow evening for 3 main reasons: 1) visiting the Lourve is on my bucket list – it’s a priority while I’m there; 2) I get to see my dear friend Lauren Beckett who ran away from America several years ago to live in the only place outside of the US I would allow J; 3) I get to see Jonathan again! So sitting in the airport sucks but I can’t wait for the adventures that await me. Until then, I will be reading Notes from a Small Island, given to me by the dearest Miss Jenna; trying to learn SOME French, which I have stored on my iPod; and sleeping, if this screaming child close to me will allow it.

-          Brandy)

So not to bore you, I’ll skip my terrible plane experiences, although I do have to say that I almost missed my plane FROM Warsaw because my flight TO Warsaw was over an hour late. Anyways, once I landed in the Charles de Gaulle Airport, I headed straight for luggage and was greeted by Jonathan who had literally been in the airport all day. (He had travel issues, too.) We grabbed our stuff and headed to the train that would take us downtown.  The directions I found online of how to get to our hotel were detailed and easy to follow. Good thing, too.  We were both practically asleep by the time we walked in the door. Of course, I have to mention two things.

One: we were on the 4^th floor. There was no elevator. We each had our 23kg bags with us. Thank god Jonathan has patience. He brought both bags upstairs and by the end of it, we were both cursing our hotel. Two: the one thing Jonathan asked for from home was a Sweetwater 420. I bubble wrapped one, hoping it would make it to France. Conveniently, it did. “Well done with those bags, honey! Here’s a beer!” Minutes later we were both asleep.

Our first full day was a long one. We woke up, making our way down our hotel’s winding staircase, and began walking towards the river. Breakfast at a café included croissants and coffee, of course. We did the Parisian thing by taking our time in the café but soon it was off to find Lauren. We told her we would meet her outside of the pyramid at the Lourve. Poor choice. Jonathan and I arrived and the first thing we noticed was the people. There were literally thousands. Apparently, these people had the same idea we did: go to Paris for NYE. Not to mention, it was going to be nearly impossible to find Lauren. After about 30 minutes of wandering in the cold, looking for my little Frenchy, we began to pace the place, thinking it would be easier to find her if we were warm. Eventually, we did! After a quick chat about how we were, we decided another coffee was in order.

After the coffee break, our little tour guide took us around the city. We visited the Arc de Triomphe, down near the Opera where we saw the last of the Christmas lights, had a quick bite to eat and then it was time to part to begin the annual “getting ready” for NYE. A quick shower followed our day out and getting ready didn’t take nearly as long as it should have for me. We had planned earlier to meet at the metro near the Latin Quarter considering good restaurants and bars were to be found there. 

A little place with a name I can’t remember served as our dining spot. A clean 19.95 euros was our total each. Apparently, on NYE, restaurants create one of those fixed menus. Needless to say, it wasn’t bad. We left dinner needing to find a place to settle in for the festivities. An Irish pub two blocks from where we ate food? Done.

Unfortunately, Paris doesn’t celebrate NYE quite like we do in the States. There’s no count down. If you’ve lived in America for an extended period of time, or have even BEEN in American for NYE at all, you know that the countdown is the most important part. The Atlanta peach drop is the NYE icon of my childhood. Paris. has. nothing. No countdown at all. So we weren’t very aware of when it actually became midnight but we chose a moment and made cheers to each other. We then carried our own festivities out into the streets, as did the rest of Paris, and popped the cork to a bottle of champagne Lauren brought to bring in 2011 – across from Notre Dame, I should mention. 

After a few ridiculous pictures and yelling with the rest of the natives, Lauren suggested we head down near the Bastille to continue the celebration. Little did we know not much actually happened in this part of town past 2am. So we WALKED to the Bastille, singing and dancing the whole way (literally) and made our way into the center where life was calm for NYE. We found a small café that looked annoyed when we walked in, but regardless, we had a drink or two and then headed out to find somewhere slightly less boring. Yet, everything was closed. What now? Of course there happens to be a crepe stand right across the street. So yes, we stood for another hour or so to eat crepes and go on and on in all of our purely un-Parisian-ness.

Naturally, the most exciting moment of the evening happened right about here. A young and very bold, I might add, Australian walked up to us. Honestly, I’m not exactly where in our ranting this occurred, but occurred it did. One minute we were chatting about god-knows-what and the next, Lauren is being “swept off her feet” by this Australian…with a mustache. Now, normally this is…well…somewhat acceptable. Being approached by a daring and odd stranger with a mustache. But tonight, Lauren absolutely wouldn’t have it. She literally gave him shit for an hour. Yes, an hour. (And Lauren, I hope you read this because this was very surely the highlight of my New Years Eve!)

Poor Lauren. She got stuck chatting with this Australian, explaining to him how stupid mustaches were, and making very sure he knew she “wasn’t impressed”. Honestly, this time went by fairly quickly, especially considering I was hunched over in laughter about 4/6ths of the conversation.  And I also have to mention, this Australian (and his friend who stood nearby but didn’t commit much to the conversation for fear of insulting Lauren, I’m sure) took her “I’m not impressed” speech very well. They actually seemed to be quite impressed with the fluently French-speaking little American with a louder voice and bigger balls than either one of them had. Needless to say, they walked away satisfied that they didn’t win Lauren over yet still had a good laugh all the same.

So after crepes and insulting Australians, we decided to call it a night. Plans were to wake up the next morning and explore Paris for another day. Hopefully we would all be up in time to make that happen.

Conveniently, we were. Breakfast was the first thing on the to-do list (again with the croissants and coffee) followed by more tour-guiding, complements of Lauren. This time we made it a priority to see the symbol of Paris: the Eiffel Tower. So after a long breakfast, we made a mistake. We walked. 

By the time we got to the Eiffel Tower, the other NYE-Paris tourists were already there. Again, I guess we all think alike. We took some pictures and headed on (note: It’s a good time to mention it was still ridiculously cold in Paris…therefore, any inside time we could manage was appreciated). Down to the Champs-Elysses we went, followed by more coffee drinking. At the end of the Champs-Elysses, we discovered what looked like a Christmas market lining the streets. Honestly, I didn’t care what it was…it had crepes. So we all ordered our crepes and made our way down the market, looking in on stalls of interest and pushing past the hundreds of other people with the same idea. 

Eventually we came to the end, where we turned back towards the Eiffel Tower. By this time it was night so we took a few pictures and headed back to the metro to say goodbye to Lauren. We got her off on the train and made our way back to our hotel for an exciting night of nothing. Sleep was inevitable.

Our last day in Paris started with packing. Our suitcases had been torn apart the last few days so they were in desperate need of some rearranging. We (and I mean Jonathan) lugged our suitcases back down that ridiculous spiral staircase and packed them into a corner of the hotel’s first floor. One more thing on the to-do list before we left Paris: actually go into the Lourve. 

We only had a few hours but knew we couldn’t come all the way to Paris and NOT see as much of it as we could. So after standing in line for an hour and a half we finally got in and sprinted to the rooms we wanted to check out. We discovered later the Lourve is free to all visitors on the first Sunday of every month. Naturally, we went on the first Sunday of the month. Saying it was packed is clearly an understatement. After racing through the exhibits we wanted to see the most, we headed back towards the hotel to pick up our 23kg suitcases and bookbags and head to the train station. Time to head to Cognac to visit Lauren before we head to school in Geneva. The train was scheduled to have us there around 11pm…

-          Brandy