Speaking of spanish omelets...
On Sunday I was planning on meeting up with two of my friends from WashU who are in Madrid around 1 pm to go to Europe's biggest outdoor flea market. The market only stayed open till 3 so the plan was to go get tapas (duh!) after we walked around. Well, I woke up around 11:15 and knew I wasn't going to make it until 3 to eat so I decided I would go to El Mercado de San Miguel for breakfast and coffee. I was staying in Sol and the market was literally a 5 minute walk around the corner-- easy enough! After walking up and down the aisles, deciding which station I was going to eat at, I stopped at one that had beautiful spanish omelets sitting on their counters ready to be cut into and heated up. "Un tortilla por favor", I said, quickly pointing in the direction of the omelets, in case he had no clue what the hell I was trying to say. Luckily, he figured it out, and soon enough I had myself a slice of spanish omelette for breakfast. I then asked for "un cafe" to which I received a "no, no, cervesa? vino?". How was it that I was asking for coffee and instead I was being offered beer or wine? "Un Agua? Por favor?" "No, no agua, cervesa? Vino?" "Nada! Gracias"
**Note: for anyone reading this who actually takes Spanish/knows Spanish, if what I am saying makes no sense, I am not surprised. Regardless the man understood me and thats all that counts**
What does a girl do when she can't get any water or coffee at 11:45 in the morning to accompany her spanish omelette? Order a Vino of course! Yup, I stood at one of the booths drinking wine and eating my spanish omelette for breakfast on Sunday Morning in Madrid. Not a bad start to a day if you ask me. And the best part about it, not one person looked at me strangely. I can only imagine the stares I would be getting back home if I were drinking wine with my breakfast at a bar alone on a Sunday morning. Uy!
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Hola! Madrid was amazing! I had a fabulous weekend there. Rachel and I got in on Friday morning and went straight to El Mercado de San Miguel for some delicious sushi (and before you think "sushi?", remember that I can count on one hand the times I have had sushi since abroad, and not all my fingers have been used up...). We then headed to La Mallorquina bakery, per a suggestion, and ate one of the more delicious things I have ever had.
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| Yes, I went back and shared this with people two more times during my weekend. Don't judge. You would have too. We then spent our afternoon in an one of the big outdoor parks, with a pitcher of sangria of course, and officially began our weekend. And pretty much, the next three days went like that. Eat, Drink, Eat, Drink, Walk, Drink, Walk, Drink, Go out, Drink. Fun, right?!?! By the way, I did do cultural things (if for some reason you don't find drinking and eating cultural...). We saw the Royal Palace, the Egyptian Temples at sunset, Plaza Mayor, the Reina Sofia Museum (loved it!), the botanical gardens in El Retiro Park, and of course ate lots and lots of tapas. I think my all time favorite tapas has to be the spanish omelette. I really just think it is so good. Looking back on it, it is probably a good thing I didn't go abroad in Spain as I apparently am a humongous fan of Spanish food. And Drinks. I love Sangria. Love!   |
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Last week, as you know, I went into Amsterdam for Liberation Day and played the role of tourist heading to the Resistance Museum and then stopping at the New York Times recommended Burgermeester for lunch afterwords. After I was finished touring and lunching, I decided it was time for some shopping and coffee, and I headed back towards Jordaan (or the "9 streets")-- the area which my family and I stayed in when they visited the Netherlands. For someone who doesn't exactly have a good sense of direction, I was very proud of myself when I ended up directly in front of the shoe store I wanted to go to without ever once looking at my map. But, before I reached my destination, I came across this beauty at one of the canals.
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| What is it, you may ask... |
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| Either this man has way too much time on his hands or just loves flowers this much, but either way, this is the most out-there looking boat I have seen yet. I am seriously resisting the urge to say "Only in Amsterdam", but it's not exactly like you see a man floating in a boat with a lamp shade, covered in floral arrangements everyday. |
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Pictures from Budapest
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| St Gellert Monument in Buda |
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| Waterfalls on the hike up to the Citadel. I HIGHLY suggest hiking to the top to see the Citadel. Don't underestimate the walk up. My calves were seriously hurting the next day. Then again, I pretty much never wear the right shoes ever while abroad. I have some wonderful blisters on both of my feet right now to confirm that fact. |
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| The Citadel Fortress on top of Gellert Hill on the Buda side. This is the highest point in downtown Budapest (thank you Wikipedia!) |
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| Awkward Abroad Picture in Budapest #1 |
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| Awkward Abroad Picture in Budapest #2 |
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| The Chain Bridge, over the Danube River, that connects Buda to Pest |
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| The view of Parliament at Sunset from the Chain Bridge |
If you didn't know that a bridge connects Buda to Pest raise your hand!
Lets put it this way, I had to wikipedia this fact to prove to my family that I wasn't making it up. It is pretty crazy actually. I stayed on the Pest side while I was in Budapest this past weekend and to get to Buda, I had to cross one of three bridges-- the most well known being the Chain Bridge-- over the Danube River and wa-la, I was in Buda. However, if the bridge doesn't throw you off, the difference in landscape most certainly will. For one thing, Buda is full of greenery, is extremely hilly, and rather picturesque in almost any direction that you look. Pest, on the other hand, is pretty grey, and much more "metropolitan" with large roads and speeding cars. In fact, I thought some parts of Pest were down right ugly, but then again, it isn't as if every building in New York City is a gem either.
Oh, but before I continue with my rant on the differences between Buda and Pest, let me tell you how my trip started off. I was meeting three of my friends in Budapest on Friday afternoon. My flight landed around 12:30 and rather than dealing with the metro and bus option to get into the city, I decided I would sign up for the group shuttle (I highly recommend this by the way!) and call it a day. Well, one would think that you can't exactly mess anything up when someone is dropping you off at the doorstep of where you are staying. Think again. I, the super prepared person I am, decided I would write down the name of the hostel, the address, the directions, what it is across from, what it looks like from the outside, and so on, so that when I got there I knew I was in the right place.
After about a half hour in the van, the driver pulled over and low and behold, I saw the yellow sign I was looking for letting me know that I was at my hostel. I looked in front of me and saw what looked like to be 100 stairs-- the hostel posted on their website that unfortunately there were 100 stairs to be climbed before reaching the "penthouse"-- and once again knew things were going according to plan. That is until a woman with black hair that looked as if it had not been washed in a few weeks, accompanied by the occasional attempt at what appeared to be dreadlocks, appeared at the front door of wearing a grey furry bunny suit. I repeat, a grey furry bunny suit. Yes, with a tail and all. To say that I was speechless was an understatement, and to top it off I was extremely out of breath after lugging my carry on up the lovely 100 stairs, that I didn't exactly know what to do. Luckily, the bunny-lady wasted no time at all telling me that she believed I was at the wrong hostel and in fact, was most likely staying at the sister hostel just a "fifteen minute walk away". Hallelujah. I mean, it would have been nicer if she said I was staying at their sister beautiful four- star hotel, but I swear anything was going to be nicer, and cleaner, than what I had just walked into. I quickly apologized for the mistake and got out of there. As I closed the door, bunny-lady yelled out, "Well, I will probably see you tonight anyways!" UH....
More like twenty minutes later and I had arrived at the correct hostel which happened to be on the top floor of an elevator building (thank gd). However, before I made it upstairs, I first walked past the sex shop that was in the bottom of the building of where I was staying. By the time I got upstairs, I was just so thankful that a guy opened the door wearing normal cargo shorts and a normal t-shirt, and was not dressed up in any kind of furry animal costume, that I let out a huge sigh of relief and decided the bunk beds and whatever else came along with my hostel wasn't going to be that bad after all. At least not after seeing the first one I thought I was staying at.
Oh, and to my dismay, I did see the bunny-lady at a bar that night. No, I am not kidding. I noticed the strange dreadlocks, looked at her face and realized it was her-- sans the bunny suit.
Lets put it this way, I had to wikipedia this fact to prove to my family that I wasn't making it up. It is pretty crazy actually. I stayed on the Pest side while I was in Budapest this past weekend and to get to Buda, I had to cross one of three bridges-- the most well known being the Chain Bridge-- over the Danube River and wa-la, I was in Buda. However, if the bridge doesn't throw you off, the difference in landscape most certainly will. For one thing, Buda is full of greenery, is extremely hilly, and rather picturesque in almost any direction that you look. Pest, on the other hand, is pretty grey, and much more "metropolitan" with large roads and speeding cars. In fact, I thought some parts of Pest were down right ugly, but then again, it isn't as if every building in New York City is a gem either.
Oh, but before I continue with my rant on the differences between Buda and Pest, let me tell you how my trip started off. I was meeting three of my friends in Budapest on Friday afternoon. My flight landed around 12:30 and rather than dealing with the metro and bus option to get into the city, I decided I would sign up for the group shuttle (I highly recommend this by the way!) and call it a day. Well, one would think that you can't exactly mess anything up when someone is dropping you off at the doorstep of where you are staying. Think again. I, the super prepared person I am, decided I would write down the name of the hostel, the address, the directions, what it is across from, what it looks like from the outside, and so on, so that when I got there I knew I was in the right place.
After about a half hour in the van, the driver pulled over and low and behold, I saw the yellow sign I was looking for letting me know that I was at my hostel. I looked in front of me and saw what looked like to be 100 stairs-- the hostel posted on their website that unfortunately there were 100 stairs to be climbed before reaching the "penthouse"-- and once again knew things were going according to plan. That is until a woman with black hair that looked as if it had not been washed in a few weeks, accompanied by the occasional attempt at what appeared to be dreadlocks, appeared at the front door of wearing a grey furry bunny suit. I repeat, a grey furry bunny suit. Yes, with a tail and all. To say that I was speechless was an understatement, and to top it off I was extremely out of breath after lugging my carry on up the lovely 100 stairs, that I didn't exactly know what to do. Luckily, the bunny-lady wasted no time at all telling me that she believed I was at the wrong hostel and in fact, was most likely staying at the sister hostel just a "fifteen minute walk away". Hallelujah. I mean, it would have been nicer if she said I was staying at their sister beautiful four- star hotel, but I swear anything was going to be nicer, and cleaner, than what I had just walked into. I quickly apologized for the mistake and got out of there. As I closed the door, bunny-lady yelled out, "Well, I will probably see you tonight anyways!" UH....
More like twenty minutes later and I had arrived at the correct hostel which happened to be on the top floor of an elevator building (thank gd). However, before I made it upstairs, I first walked past the sex shop that was in the bottom of the building of where I was staying. By the time I got upstairs, I was just so thankful that a guy opened the door wearing normal cargo shorts and a normal t-shirt, and was not dressed up in any kind of furry animal costume, that I let out a huge sigh of relief and decided the bunk beds and whatever else came along with my hostel wasn't going to be that bad after all. At least not after seeing the first one I thought I was staying at.
Oh, and to my dismay, I did see the bunny-lady at a bar that night. No, I am not kidding. I noticed the strange dreadlocks, looked at her face and realized it was her-- sans the bunny suit.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Today, May 5, is Liberation Day in the Netherlands. I know, a lot of holidays this month-- oh wait, this week! Liberation Day is celebrated each year to mark the end of Nazi Germany Occupation during WWII. Yesterday, on May 4, there was two minutes of silence to commemorate the people who fought and died in WWII. I am pretty sure I was in my pilates class when this moment of silence was supposed to be happening but regardless I am sure the Queen at the very least was silent! And, now today comes time for all the talking you want, as much of Holland is crowded with festivals and what not to celebrate. I am actually going into Amsterdam today to do some touring, specifically I am going to go to the Dutch Resistance Museum-- which happens to document what life was like in the Netherlands during WWII-- and then will walk around and see what celebrating is happening on that side of the canals. Should be nice!
I'm telling you, I just feel bad for everyone who has to clean up at all the mess from Queens Day. And then, on top of it, the Dutch decide to celebrate another holiday less than a week later. They better get overtime.
I'm telling you, I just feel bad for everyone who has to clean up at all the mess from Queens Day. And then, on top of it, the Dutch decide to celebrate another holiday less than a week later. They better get overtime.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Someone is out to get me. Today I decided that today would be the big day. The day that I FINALLY stop talking and start doing. Manicures that is. After all my complaining and what not on my blog, I decided after a full three months it was finally time to give in and pay the stupid 20 euro to get my nails done. And then, pay the surcharge for them to actually use nail polish because for some unknown reason to me, a manicure in this neck of the woods does not include the actual act of painting your nails. But No. "No one is in till Saturday, would you like me to put you down for Saturday?" UH NO THANKS! (Besides, I am in Budapest on Saturday.)
Looks like I will be painting my nails. Once again...
Looks like I will be painting my nails. Once again...
Monday, May 2, 2011
Dear Verizon,
Why do you charge so much money for every little thing I do on my phone when in fact I am already paying for the international plan? Please explain to me why you feel the need to do such a thing. This morning my Dad bbmed me letting me know of the lovely charges you have thus far billed him for. How exactly am I supposed to send pictures of myself and all of my adventures to my mom and dad to let them know I am alive and well if it costs my entire month's worth of data to do so? Clearly, you did not have those in mind who actually like to keep in constant communication with those half way across the world. Oh, and did I mention that things called twitter and Facebook are pretty big now-a-days? Must you punish me every time I decide to check out whats happening? I mean all I had to do was press "refresh" on my twitter feed to see the many newspapers and journalists tweets about Osama Bin Laden being killed. Are you reaaaaaaaaally going to charge me for wanting to be informed of what is happening in the world?
Yours truly,
The girl who only blogs from her computer because it is clearly too expensive to write blog posts from her blackberry. SIGH.
Why do you charge so much money for every little thing I do on my phone when in fact I am already paying for the international plan? Please explain to me why you feel the need to do such a thing. This morning my Dad bbmed me letting me know of the lovely charges you have thus far billed him for. How exactly am I supposed to send pictures of myself and all of my adventures to my mom and dad to let them know I am alive and well if it costs my entire month's worth of data to do so? Clearly, you did not have those in mind who actually like to keep in constant communication with those half way across the world. Oh, and did I mention that things called twitter and Facebook are pretty big now-a-days? Must you punish me every time I decide to check out whats happening? I mean all I had to do was press "refresh" on my twitter feed to see the many newspapers and journalists tweets about Osama Bin Laden being killed. Are you reaaaaaaaaally going to charge me for wanting to be informed of what is happening in the world?
Yours truly,
The girl who only blogs from her computer because it is clearly too expensive to write blog posts from her blackberry. SIGH.
I must be getting old. I clearly am not very good at staying out till 4 am any more. Last night I was wide awake at 4, once again, and decided to take a sleeping pill. Well, that resulted in me waking up at 12:45 today, eating oatmeal, and then laying back down until 3 since I still felt sleepy. I seriously need to get back on schedule. This just won't cut it. Then again, I think the real issue is that I technically don't have to wake up until 3 if I don't want to while I am abroad in the NethaNethalands. True life: I only have class on Tuesdays and Thursdays**.
**and there happens to be 2 national holidays on Thursdays between now and when I go home...
**and there happens to be 2 national holidays on Thursdays between now and when I go home...
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Well, Queens Day was most definitely a success. The Queen of the Netherlands should feel very honored that this many people dress up in orange and party in her name. I mean, it's not everyday you get to attend a humongous outdoor party celebrating the Dutch monarchy. And despite all the beer that was going around, I decided that while it was most definitely a party, Queens Day is also a cultural experience. As someone living in Utrecht for 5 months, I am really happy I was here to celebrate this holiday. Not only did I get to stand up amongst thousands of Dutch people and pretend I knew the words to their National Anthem, but I also got to see the first floor of a beautiful Dutch home right behind the Van Gogh museum since a Dutch woman was kind enough to let me, Rachel, and the 3 Dutch teenage girls we followed into the house use her bathroom. Talk about nice! As we left her husband yelled out "Don't drink anymore!" to us in Dutch (kindly translated to us by our new Dutch friends) which I took to meant: "This isn't going to happen again". Fair enough.
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| Relatively empty when I first arrived at Museumplein at 10:30 in the morning... I began to think this so-called crazy day was not so crazy at all |
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| Uhh... not exactly empty anymore. |
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| The aftermath. Beer, Orange, and more Beer. EVERYWHERE! |
I highly recommend visiting the Netherlands for Queens Day if you ever get a chance-- you will not be disappointed.
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