Niadsfkljljgds... and Amsterdam

Marta and I left for the Netherlands (I'd been calling it Holland and that's actually not technically correct) just a few hours after I got back from Spain... I had just enough time to write a blog, repack and get 4 hours of sleep before we left for Milan to catch our flight. On our way to the airport we missed exactly one bus, one train and one shuttle to the airport, and yet still managed to make our flight. Miraculous!

We flew into Eindhoven and took the train to Nijmegen, where we met up with Marta's two friends, Teresa and Margarida. Nijmegen is a cute little country town which I never once managed to pronounce correctly. Honestly, even now I have no idea how to say it. Teresa told me about a thousand times but I always just referred to it as Ni-something or Niblahblahblah. Silly dutch.

Even though it's impossible to pronounce, I love Dutch, mostly because it sometimes sounds like a very funny version of English. Kid's bookstore? Keender booken! 5 minutes? Fiven meenooten! (Spelled phonetically, of course). There's something about the way the language sounds that's just so... endearing, I guess. It has a very energetic rhythm to it which makes me smile, regardless of what the person is saying. For example, when a waitress started yelling at us about not moving tables in the restaurant, I couldn't stop thinking about how cute she sounded.

Sadly, Keender Booken was closed (I think it's actually spelled Kinder Boeken but that's just not as funny) but I did manage to find a copy of "De Kleine Prins" in another bookstore later in the trip. The woman at the counter informed me not-so-politely that "lots of people collect copies of The Little Prince from around the world." Pshh. Stronza.

We spent a few days in Niblahblahblah, and then took a day trip to Amsterdam. I thought I had a pretty good idea of what it would be like - after all, Amsterdam has quite the reputation. As it turns out, I was completely wrong. I mean yes, there are "coffee shops" on every corner, and by "coffee shops" they mean "pot shops"... but the city itself is gorgeous, surprisingly tranquil and not at all the messy, chaotic, constant party town that I had in mind. I was very relieved.

Instead, the city is filled with tiny canals and quirky dutch architecture. At first, I couldn't figure out what made the buildings look so odd, and then Teresa explained to me that it's because they're all slightly tilted to one side or the other. They almost look like they're dancing, which is where their unofficial title comes from - "the dancing houses of Amsterdam." Ahhh, it all makes sense now!

*** EDIT: Jose's comment proves that I'm the worst blogger ever. Geez, man. How could I throw out a juicy little tidbit like "Dancing Houses of Amsterdam" without any kind of explanation? I should be ashamed. So, to clarify, the houses are slanted slightly to one side because the ground in Amsterdam is so unstable. Almost all of the houses are built along canals, where the soil is very soft. For this reason, they're built on underground wooden platforms which tend to shift and sink over time, which in turn makes the houses tilt. That's actually also why the houses are so tall and narrow. They're built in such a way that they are supported by the houses surrounding them - each one kind of leans on the one next to it. Kind of like dominoes, but potentially much more disastrous.

I had a thought when I was looking at a group of particularly smushed-together houses along one of the canals... I think those houses must be really creaky. My apartment here in Bologna is pretty stable and still makes creepy noises at night when I'm home alone. I imagine that if the houses are leaning up against each other, there must be a great deal of pressure which would create some awfully creepy noises... I don't think I'll ever go to a sleepover in Amsterdam.

Ok, there you go! You all learned something, and I feel like a better blogger. What a deal. Here's an extra picture which shows the tiltiness:

Yet another quirky aspect of Amsterdam - there are clogs everywhere. How cool is that? I was tempted to buy a pair of clog slippers but settled for this photo instead.

The two tourist attractions that I found most interesting were the Anne Frank house and the Van Gogh museum. I remember reading The Diary of Anne Frank when I was much younger, and it was the first time that I really understood what had happened during the holocaust. At the time, I was just a little younger than Anne Frank was when her family went into hiding, and I also wrote in my diary constantly. I could really relate to her, which made her story even more moving for me. It was amazing standing in her room, looking at the posters that she'd described, and at the desk where she sat and wrote.



The Van Gogh museum was amazing, too. It was a different experience than the Picasso museum in Barcelona (obviously) but again, it was interesting to see one museum devoted to just one artist. We were able to see the progression of his work as he started to become more and more impressionistic, and we could see how well his paintings reflect what was going on in his life at the time of each painting. Each painting's style, colors, brush strokes reflect what Van Gogh was feeling at the time. It's so interesting to see. During periods of his life when he was relatively content, his paintings were light and optimistic. His painting of the almond blossoms, which is one of my favorites, was painted at the birth of his first nephew. As his mental health deteriorated, his paintings became increasingly dark and erratic (Starry night, anyone?). The museum also had excerpts of several letters from Van Gogh to his friends and family, in which he discussed his paintings, theories, ideas and inspirations. It was interesting reading the artist's own words about his work.

We happened to be in Amsterdam on Valentine's Day, which may have also contributed to the peaceful feeling in the city. There were hearts and flowers everywhere, but I think my favorite part was this crazy little man, playing songs for love in his little boat. I couldn't stop laughing - he would play his musicbox with one hand and a trumpet with the other, while his boat spun in circles in the canal. Then he'd stand up and wave flowers in the air, shouting to his audience in Dutch. Again, very quirky.

The best part of the trip was getting to know Teresa and Margarida. I'd met them both before but this was the first time we really got to know eachother and we had a great time, especially when taking goofy pictures...


I returned home in time for my classes on Monday - I missed over a week already so it's probably about time that I started learning something. Personally, I think I've learned quite a bit in these past 2 weeks of traveling, but my Psycholinguistics professor might disagree and I doubt that I could impress her with my newfound knowledge about Van Gogh.

I might try, anyway...

6 Days in Spain

I am absolutely head over heels in love with Spain. I'll just do a day-by-day account of my trip because I'm too overwhelmed and wouldn't know where to start otherwise!

Day 1
Susan and I arrived in Granada in the evening and met up with our couchsurfing hosts, Unai and Merchi. They are a beautiful Spanish couple living in a tiny little apartment right beneath the Alhambra. After we got settled in, Unai took us out for tapas which changed my life. Seriously, if you haven't had tapas, you're missing out. For next to nothing (usually around 1.50), you get a drink and a small appetizer. With each round, the tapa gets better... so we were faced with the irresistible temptation to keep eating and drinking in pursuit what I like to think of as the ultimate tapa, the holy grail of tapas, the best tapa in existence. Unfortunately Susan and I did not reach this goal, because we got too full and too drunk to continue and went home to get some sleep. Next time, my friends. Next time.

Granada, by the way, is beautiful. It's so beautiful, it's a little absurd. I spent most of my time there wandering around in a constant state of amazement at how pretty everything is. Beautiful architecture, amazing murals on the sides of buildings, fountains, open piazzas, street musicians and flamenco dancers, ancient cathedrals, sunshine, blue sky, surrounded by mountains... and then all of this is made even more beautiful by hundreds of orange trees which line every street and fill every garden. I heard that in the spring and summer when it gets warmer and the oranges ripen, the entire city smells like fresh, sweet oranges. Mmm. See what I mean when I say that it's just absurd? How can one place be so perfect?


Day 2
We wandered around Granada in the morning and ran into an American named Eric. It was a really strange coincidence, actually. When I was searching for couchsurfing, I made a request to sleep on Eric's couch and he e-mailed me back saying he was sorry but he already had a bunch of friends staying with him. Then I happened to see him on the street in Granada and recognized him from his photo online! He recognized me as well, greeted Susan and I with a big American bear hug and took us on an impromptu tour of the city. He's lived in Granada for the past several months and works as a tour guide, although you can hardly call it work! He made fliers advertising free walking tours and put them in all the hostels and hotels in the city. Every day, he leads a group of tourists around the city and shows them all his favorite places... basically walking around a beautiful city for 2 hours a day, and making more than enough money to live in Granada. He also eats for free at several awesome places in the city because he advertises on his tours. Pretty incredible life. He said it's a really easy thing to set up, so I might try it out in Bologna when the weather is a little nicer!

After hanging out with Eric for the day, we met back up with Unai and Merchi in the evening. We all went to a free showing of "Nosferatu" - a 1922 silent film based on "Dracula." It was really awesome, with live musical accompaniment. The musicians did all the sound effects with just a group of 5 stringed instruments - doors opening and closing, screams, wind, rats... everything!


I think the best part of the film was Dracula's striking resemblance to everybody's favorite zombie rock star:


Later on (after a few drinks, and inspired by Dracula and/or Michael Jackson), Merchi delivered her best rendition of "Thriller" on the streets of Granada! I know she'd kill me if she saw this... Here she is, our beautiful hostess in all of her glory:

Day 3
We got up early and headed to Spain's number one tourist attraction, the Alhambra - a moorish palace and fortress built in the 1300's. I thought that Lisbon's castle inspired my princess fantasies but this place was almost too much for me to handle. We spent hours wandering around the dozens of rooms, gardens, pools - there was even a labyrinth. Each room was more beautiful than the last and I couldn't stop thinking things like "this is my bedchambers" or "this is where my maids live" or "this is where I keep my pet tiger...." Yes, I know. I'm sick. Okay, brace yourselves: photo attack of Alhambra!!


At the top of the Alhambra, Susan and I took what may be the most epic polaroid in history. It was a little embarassing, striking this pose in front of the tourist who was nice enough to take our photo... and of course, the hundreds of other tourists at the top of Alhambra... but hey, it came out great. We gave it to Merchi as a gift, something to remember us by.


Of course, before I gave it to her I wrote a note at the bottom: "THRILLED to meet you"... because I'm cheesy like that.

We spent the rest of the day with Eric and his visiting American friends. We planned on going to a flamenco show, but since it was sold out, we went out for a night of tapas instead. I think we came significantly closer to the Grail this time, but just barely missed it. We were planning on leaving on an overnight bus to Madrid but Eric convinced us to stay for one more night. It didn't take too much convincing, actually, he just promised that the next day would be sunny and gorgeous, a beautiful day in Granada.

Day 4
Eric was right and it was one of the most beautiful days I've ever seen. We went on his official walking tour in the morning, which was amazing. He was hilarious, knew all kinds of historical facts, and even recited poetry that was written about Granada, in Granada and by the Sultan of Granada. He showed us places we'd seen but never really noticed, like this really cool house, for example. The old lady who owns it wins the porch-decorated contest every year! :)

The tour ended at El Mirador, with incredible views of Granada and Alhambra, and with an impromptu photo shoot with our gracious host/guide.


After the tour, we spent the rest of the day lounging around on Eric's terrace with all of our new friends, enjoying the Spanish sun, blowing bubbles, playing with a toy dinosaur named spot, musing and playing guitar.

It was hard to say goodbye to our new friends but we left in the afternoon and caught a bus to Madrid. Since we got a pretty late start, we decided to just stay in Madrid for dinner and then head to Barcelona.

We hit a slight snag when there were no seats available on the last bus from Madrid to Barcelona. So, we did what any true travelers would have done, and slept at the Madrid bus station. It smelled like urine and the man sleeping on the next bench was suffering from a cough that sounded very, very contagious but I slept pretty well, all things considered...

Day 5
We got to Barcelona in the afternoon and since we hadn't found couchsurfing, we decided to check into a hostel rather than spending another night in Spain's four-star bus stations. Ten euros per night isn't too bad, and we found a great hostel not far from La Sagrada Familia - Gaudi's famous cathedral.

I'm no expert, but I'm fairly certain that Gaudi must have been taking some kind of psychadelic drug when he designed some of his famous buildings in Barcelona. There was one building called Casa Milà (also called La Pedrera) which resembled something out of a sci-fi movie. The name means "the stone quarry" which I could see, but it also reminded me of vertebrae... As I was admiring it, I had an incredibly vivid daydream of myself as a kind of half-lizard person, climbing up the side of the building. I know it's weird, but that's just the kind of thought that Gaudi inspires. (Also, I've been reading a book about an iguana-woman which might have something to do with it.)


Oh, I left my camera charger in Granada, so all the pictures from Barcelona are either google images or were taken on Susan's camera. Bummer, I know, but I lose things a lot so I'm used to it by now... Merchi is mailing me the charger so I should have it pretty soon.

I also loved Casa Batllo, which looks a lot like a mermaid palace. Yes, of course I imagined myself as a mermaid swimming in and out of the windows. Why wouldn't I?


You should look at the full-sized version of this photo - the amount of detail is pretty amazing.

Aside from Gaudi's incredible, crazy architecture, my favorite part of Barcelona is probably La Rambla. It's a long, wide street built for pedestrians, lined with shops and cafes, as well as a really awesome fruit and vegetable market. There are hundreds of street performers, living statues and people selling everything from cans of beer to live chickens. It leads to the Marina, where we had a great dinner of paella and sangria before returning to our hostel for the night.


Interesting story: I've actually been to Barcelona before! I went when I was 16 with my choir, it was the last stop on our tour of Spain. Our hotel was right on La Rambla - an amazing location. However (and this is so tragic), before I got the chance to see the city, I drank with some friends, got busted and was banished to my hotel room for the rest of the trip. I think it was the second time I drank in my life, haha - what luck. All I saw of Barcelona was the alley outside my window, passing tourists and a McDonald's on the corner. Luckily, this time, drinking was allowed. :)

Day 6
We spent most of our last day in Barcelona on the beach, since the weather was amazing. The It was obviously too cold to swim, but we spent hours collecting seashells, taking photos and playing tug-of-war with a crazy puppy who had a taste for Susan's scarf. It was a perfect, relaxing day and just what we both needed.


After the beach, we went to the Picasso museum which was a really cool experience as well. I know Picasso for what most people know him for - crazy surrealist pieces, cubism, maybe a couple of blue period pieces. This museum showed his work from the beginning of his career (13 and 14 years old) to the end, and there was such an incredible amount of variety that we may as well have been seeing the work of 50 artists instead of just 1. I'd never seen his early works, which are all extremely formal - it was amazing watching it evolve into the Picasso that I'm familiar with. It was also great seeing the museum with Susan who is an Art History major, who needs a tour guide when you have your very own walking encyclopedia of all things artistic?

Since Susan's 21st birthday is later this month, her dad gave her an early birthday present and told us to treat ourselves to a fancy dinner on our last night in Spain. Muahaha... excellent....

So, we did. We went to a beautiful seafood restaurant right on the beach in Barcelona and ordered starters, a paella course, and entrees. The server looked at us like we were insane and said "No no, es mucha comida para dos personas. Mucha mucha comida..." She clearly didn't know who she was dealing with - we went to a five day food festival for crying out loud, we know how to eat! So, after some argument we convinced her to bring us our meals and as a matter of principle, polished off every last bite (including every piece of bread and every single olive). It was an amazing meal. A huge plate of fresh squid rings as a starter, shellfish paella (which was so delicious that it was practically a religious experience), bakalau with clams and garlic sauce, and some of the best shrimp I have ever eaten (like butter, delicious shrimpy butter) - accompanied by two bottles of wine and two desserts. I think we showed the waitress what we're capable of, and went home proud, full, drunk and happy. Of course, we made a detour and ran around on the beach for a while - it was a full moon and beautiful outside so we couldn't resist.

I had never really eaten much seafood before this trip, but tried a little bit of everything. My favorite thing was by far the squid (something I had never tried in my entire life) and Susan had to explain to me how to eat mussels:

Me: So... what are mussels like?
Susan (mouth full of mussels): Delicious!
Me: How do I do it?
Susan (mouth still full of mussels): You just scoop out the middle part and eat it.
Me: ... but do I chew it?
Susan (impatient, wanting to eat her mussels): Yes, Kalen. It's like, a food.

Barcelona was amazing, and I loved it but I think I've been enchanted by the "good vibes" (Eric's words) of Granada. Even with the beach and seafood and incredible food, Barcelona couldn't compare to the amazing few days I spend in Granada. There's something special about that place, and I can't wait to spend more time there. I think I might follow Eric's lead and try the life of a tour guide for a little while. Also, bonus points: I think I understood about 80% of the Spanish that I heard. It's similar enough to Italian that I can understand just about everything, but can hardly speak at all. I think I'll pick it up pretty quickly.

Once again, I have chosen blogging over sleeping and I'm leaving in 4 hours for Holland. I have a feeling it'll be another awesome adventure.

¡Viva España!

A Sunny Day in Bologna

Finally. Finally.

Last month was too long. It was too cold, too dark, too sad. It was too much of a lot of things, actually, and I was so relieved when that blessed day finally arrived... February 1. Goodbye January, ya big jerk!

It's a little ironic that I was so happy about that day, because Feb 1 is my brother's birthday. He would have been thirty years old, and I would have given him so much crap for it (lots of gray hair jokes, and the phrase "old fart" definitely would have been frequently used I wanted to bake his favorite cake, black forest, but since I couldn't find cherry pie filling (a key ingredient), I settled for brownies. I burned them, and they actually tasted more like burned chocolate cake then burned brownies, but it's the thought that counts, right? Brownies don't really exist here so I think the spirits of Italy burned my brownies to prove a point or something - it couldn't possibly have anything to do with the fact that I'm a terrible baker. Actually, I managed to salvage them by scraping off the burned parts and covering them with sugar in order to hide the damage.
Yes, more pictures of food. As always...

Anyway, even with the start of a fresh month and a fresh semester, I was still feeling a little down. I've been doing yoga, getting lots of sleep, taking care of myself, but the dreary weather must be contagious. When I woke up this morning though, I was shocked, shocked to see sunlight coming through the cracks in my window... I didn't believe it at first but when I opened the window I saw something that I haven't seen in weeks. A blue sky. So blue, brilliantly, perfectly, happily blue.

It was just what I needed. Such a simple thing, sunshine, and I missed it so much.

Walking around Bologna was so different today than it has been in the past few weeks. People weren't hurrying to get out of the rain, they weren't cold and wet or grumpy. Piazza Maggiore was filled with people and I ran into a lot of my friends on the street. People were riding their bikes again, and going for walks just because they felt like it. Here's the one picture I managed to snap before my camera battery died!
I walked more today than I've walked in the past month... of course that could also be because I had 3 classes on opposite sides of the city, with a 2 hour break in between each class.

Ah yes, classes started on Monday. So far I'm taking Psycholinguistics, Sociolinguistics, and History of the Italian Language. I may or may not take another class, it depends on how I feel. A few interesting classes start in March, including Italian Dialectology and History of Italian Cinema... but I think I'd rather travel the world. Again, we'll see.

Speaking of traveling the world, I'm leaving for Spain in the morning. A few weeks ago, my friend Susan (of the infamous food festival weekend) said "ya know, I think we should travel more"... so 10 seconds later, we booked tickets to Granada. We're flying in tomorrow morning and coming back from Barcelona on the 11th, so we have 6 days to make our way across Spain. We found couch-surfing in Granada but after that we're going wherever we feel like going. Should be wonderful. I get back to Bologna on the 11th and will have about 18 hours here before I leave again for Holland on the 12th... it'll be quite an adventure.

I have so many travel plans on the horizon... after Spain and Holland, the next trip is on March
9 - to Stockholm. I literally paid 5 euro (round-trip) for the ticket. Europe is amaaazing. My sister is coming on March 26 and staying for 17 whole days... I plan on showing her everything in Italy. Everything. She leaves on the April 12th and then Harry's spring break begins - we're planning a trip to Morocco. It makes my head spin, in a good way! Other places I'd love to go include Berlin and Moscow but I'm already dizzy so I'll give it a while before I start planning those trips...

Well friends, loyal readers (Melissa), I love you all very very much but my train leaves early in the morning and I'm stanca morta. Goodnight, all!

Find a stinky, pick it up...

When I told my friends I was going to Bulgaria for the weekend, the reaction was usually the same - laughter. I guess it's not the most traditional choice for a winter vacation spot...

I went anyway. My dear friend Harry McPhee Winters is attending med school in Sofia, which if you didn't know (and you probably didn't) is the capital of Bulgaria. It's a pretty cool city, but I'm not sure I'd live there for 6 years. When I asked what Harry and his friends do to entertain themselves, they said that they drink until they forget that they're in Bulgaria. They were mostly kidding... it's hard to forget that you're in Bulgaria. Ha!

Although Bulgaria became a part of the European Union in 2007, they are still transitioning in many ways. For example, they still haven't switched to the Euro from the Bulgarian Lev. The Bulgarian cent is called a "statinki" which, needless to say, was incredibly entertaining. (The Americans call it a "stinky" for short.) I just wanted to say "statinki" all day long...

"Do you have any statinkis on you?"
"I certainly hope not."

"Find a statinki, pick it up, all day long you'll have... a statinki."

When I recovered from the fit of statinki-inspired laughter, I managed to find some time to explore Sofia. My favorite sight was the Alexander Nevsky cathedral. Alexander Nevsky was the Grand Prince of Vladimir and ruled over all of Russia in the 1200's. The cathedral is definitely a testament to his importance - it's one of the most impressive churches I've seen. It was built in the early 1900's which makes it a baby compared to most of the other European churches I've seen - construction of Bologna's San Petronio began in 1390 - but I was still awestruck by the beauty of it. The design is different than the design of any church I've seen, a "cross dome" design consisting of several domes and half domes which give it a really interesting shape.

Here's a photo, because I know I couldn't do it justice with words. I mean, I guess I could say "bulbous" or something, but it seems like an insult... (Courtesy of Google Images - my photos of the church came out neon green for some reason.)

As I was walking past the cathedral with Harry's roommate Richard (who was kind enough to show me around while Harry was studying), I heard singing coming from inside. We went in to check it out, and walked into an evening mass. The priest was wearing ornate robes, chanting and holding up a huge golden bible. Everyone was bowing before him, there was a choir singing the mass, and the entire cathedral was illuminated by candles. It was beautiful. One of those moments where taking a photo would have been completely unacceptable, so I'll just have to rely on the memory.

My other favorite sight in Sofia was the National Theater, which is the oldest theater in Bulgaria. We happened to walk by during the intermission of a play, so we decided to follow the crowd and sneak into the second half of the show. We found balcony seats and watched the second half of what appeared to be a play about a group of people trapped on some kind of crazy demon bus. Only in Bulgaria.



As it turns out, the play was actually a political satire. Not sure what a demon bus is supposed to satirize, but whatever, I'm sure the Bulgarians understand.

Of the many, many oddities of Bulgarian culture, the food is by far the most strange. Harry and I ordered a salad during my first evening in Sofia, and this is what we were presented with:
Potatoes, eggs, pickles, and a yogurt sauce. I forgot that Bulgarian salads don't include lettuce, or for that matter, vegetables. No, pickles don't count. This actually leads me to another interesting fact about Bulgarian cuisine: Bulgarians love pickles. Pickles on pizza, pickles stuffed in pastries, pickles in "salad", pickles pickles pickles. I would often catch a whiff of pickles as I was walking down the street. Only in Bulgaria.

On my last day In Sofia, I went to a bookstore and spent my few remaining statinkis on a very worthwhile souvenier: Малкият принц in cyrillic, "Malkiyat Prints" in the latin alphabet, or "The Little Prince" in English. Along with the copy of "El Principito" that Ryan brought me from Chile, my little travel companion now speaks 5 languages. I've decided that if I can't learn every language in the world, which sounds awfully time-consuming, maybe he can.... Next on the list is Dutch - I'm off to Holland in a few weeks!

As Meninas em Portugal or, "Better late than never - part 3"

To make up for my lack of blogging, I wrote three blogs in one day. I don't care if that's cheating...

This week, I went to visit Marta in Portugal! I was feeling a little heartbroken due to Ryan's early departure (he needed to be at home) but when I arrived in Portugal I realized that it's actually impossible to be unhappy there.

I left my house on the evening of the 4th and spent the night in Pisa with two friends. We didn't actually sleep at all - since I had to leave for the airport at 4:30AM, I didn't really see the point. I arrived in Porto, a beautiful city in Northern Portugal, at around 9:30AM. I was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, but excited to be there. Marta and her friend Manel met me in the city center and we ate a traditional Portuguese lunch which, since I can't remember the name in Portuguese right now, I'll call "meat-stuffed meat, covered in meat sauce with a side of meat."

Actually, I could describe all of my meals in Portugal with this same description. My poor little body went into a kind of meat-coma which it's still struggling to recover from. It was worth it though - everything I tried was delicious, with the exception of that first lunch. It slightly resembled a sandwich, in that there was bread involved. Between the slices of bread, there were about 6 or 7 types of meat, including a few kinds of sausage, various sliced meats and steak. This meaty sandwich of death was covered with slices of cheese, and doused in some kind of salty meaty broth. I managed to eat about half of it but then I was sure that my arteries couldn't take any more abuse. I think the waitress was offended...

Despite its questionable cuisine, Porto was an incredible city and I enjoyed our day there. It has a beautiful river, with a bridge designed by the same architect who designed the Eiffel Tower. Many of the town's buildings were old and crumbling, but still beautiful.That night we stayed with Ana, a friend who studies in Bologna with us. Her family lives in Braga, which is another northern city about 45 minutes from Porto. They fed us an amazing dinner of you-know-what and I got a much-needed good night's sleep.

In the morning we went to visit another friend, Marta (I call her l'altra Marta, the other Marta) in a town called Viana do Castelho. We didn't see much of the town itself, but we did see its church, Santa Luzia which is on a hill overlooking the city and the Atlantic ocean. It was beautiful.
Portuguese cities (at least, the few that I've seen) have a remarkable ability to seem tranquil and relaxed even in the midst of big-city chaos. I'm sure it has a lot to do with the people, who are incredibly friendly, but I think the architecture also has something to do with it. It's a lot different than the architecture in Italy. For example, the churches here in Bologna are huge and imposing. There's a sense of power, of strength, of trying to be the best. Bologna's cathedral would have been the biggest in the world if its construction had been completed! The churches that I saw in Portugal were smaller and more delicate, as if the architects focused on beauty rather than size. I found myself imagining what it would have been like to live there when the churches were first constructed, wandering through the gardens without the noise of passing traffic.
We went to two more churches in Braga, called Bom Jesus and Sameiro. Like the church in Viana, they overlook the city and I think I could have stayed there for days, relaxing and enjoying the view.
I had an amazing time visiting Ana and Marta in their hometowns. We've been friends in Bologna for a while but have never gotten to know each other really well. They welcomed us into their homes, introduced us to their families and showed us around their cities. It was such a good chance to get to know them better.

From left to right: La mia Marta, Manel, Me, L'altra Marta, and Ana.

After our perfect few days in the North, we left Braga and headed to Lisbon. It was about a 3 hour drive - almost the full length of Portugal. We got there just in time for a late lunch at (drumroll please)... Chili's! That's right, one and the same - the first in Europe. I was so excited that I called my friend Andrew (a renowned Chili's expert) in San Diego to ask for ordering advice. I'm not sure how much he appreciated my call at 7AM Pacific time....

That night, we stayed with Marta's family and ate a slightly more traditional Portuguese meal of bakalau, which is codfish. It's no Chili's but I enjoyed it anyway.

For our final day in Portugal, Marta showed me around Lisbon. We went to the main shopping roads, visited the top of a huge outdoor elevator and looked over the city and Lisbon's river, which I'm convinced is actually the ocean. Look at this, it's massive:
It's actually amazing how similar Lisbon is to San Francisco. There is a bridge that looks almost exactly like the Golden Gate Bridge, the river looks just like the SF bay - they even have old cable cars just like we have in San Francisco. They're practically identical. Walking around the city gave me a strange sense of deja vu.
Marta, Manel and I decided to take one of the cable cars up to Lisbon's castle. As we were running to catch it, I felt something tugging on my purse and looked down to see someone's hand grabbing my hat. I turned and saw my hat on the ground behind me and, thinking that I had been pickpocketed, started to check my purse to see what was missing. The woman who'd had her hand in my bag was still standing there, so I said something like "excuse me!" and she said something indignant in Portuguese. (Marta told me later that she had said "let me by".) I was confused and knew something had happened, but the woman stepped in front of me, blocking my view of her friend who was holding my wallet! Luckily, Marta saw my wallet in the friend's hand and grabbed it back because, well, she's a badass. Both the women ran off, and we got on the cable car.

Everyone on the cable car had seen what happened, and the bus driver even jokingly said that Marta should have punched the woman. (And, go figure, there was a big sign on the street car that said "Beware of Pickpockets"). It was a close call - I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost my wallet. Ryan had just paid me in case for his share of the travel expenses, so I had close to 400 euro in my wallet, along with my credit and debit cards. Thank goodness Marta noticed the second woman who had my wallet...

Relieved that I hadn't experienced every traveler's worst nightmare, Marta and I relaxed for a while, wandering around in the city's castle. It was beautiful, and I couldn't help but pretend that I was a princess... yeah, I know it's cheesy but I sat in a window sill, gazing out at the view of the city and pretending that the big stone room was my "bedchambers". To be honest, I don't think I'll ever grow out of the princess fantasties.

Then we went to a tiny little restaurant and had a great lunch with great sangria. It was delicious! Later, after a nap, we had a wonderful dinner with her family, and traditional Portuguese sweets for dessert. They're called Pastéis de Belém, and they're glorious. Warm custard in a flaky pastry shell, crispy brûléed top, sprinkled with powdered sugar and cinnamon. Oh my goodness, I could create a religion dedicated to these little goodies. I'm seriously considering living in Portugal just so I can eat them every day. I'd get a little apartment above the bakery...

I'm not sure if you've noticed this trend in my blogs - I like food. I like to eat it, and I like to write about eating it. This may have something to do with the fact that I've gained a few kilos since arriving in Italy. Some of my friends are trying the whole dieting thing but I think my method of eating as much as I can, as often as I can, is much more fun.

Ok, snapping out of the euphoric daze induced by too much food talk!!

I had planned to head to Barcelona after Lisbon (I still had the plane tickets leftover from my travel plans with Ryan) but the idea of going by myself didn't sound too appealing. I love traveling alone, I enjoy the independence and adventure of it, but now isn't the right time. Also, the weather predicted lots of cold and lots of rain in Barcelona. Dreary weather doesn't usually help a dreary mood, so I booked a ticket back to Bologna instead and returned home this morning. Even though I was only gone a few days, I was so happy to see my bed that I plopped into it and didn't move for an embarassingly long period of time. But hey, it gave me time to catch up on my blog!

That's it for now, and I'll try not to fall into the habit of binge-blogging. Love to all of you, Happy New Year :)