Upon our return from Spain via RyanAir to Hahn-Frankfurt Airport, I had to act quickly to show my gratitude to be back on German soil. The only obvious option eat a giant Hot Dog called the “Triple-Play Special” (”chili”, cheese sauce, cole-slaw, and deep-fried onion) from the American Hot Dog stand.
Luxembourg and the surrounding area is the 2007 Capitol of Culture for 2007. Its symbol for Luxembourg was this bright blue elk cut from heavy gauge steel. Super sweet.
And so, we traveled from Barcelona to Alicante by train, an adventure in itself as the Barcelona Sants train station was under heavy construction, and our platform (it went 1-3 and then 9-14) wasn’t announced until twenty minutes before the train left. Evan also did some skateboarding before we left, as Sants is considered one of many prominent skatespots in Barcelona. After an hour delay, the train left to speed us along the coast, the curtains in our car only a shade darker blue than the sky.
We were traveling to the coast slightly south of Alicante to see Gisela, a friend of Jennifer’s mom since her university days in Mainz. Gisela is an Austrian who “has” at least 5 different languages down pat, and works for the European Union in a division that regulates nuclear power. By hanging out with Jennifer as a little girl, Gisela instilled the beauty of power line conductors and dangly earrings.
15 years later, Gisela exposed us to the delicious specialties of Spanish cuisine, like julienned anchovies resting on slices of manchego cheese on top of tiny leaves of romaine lettuce, and small fried (or broiled?) mild, oily green chilies simply served with salt.
This is the well-kept and comfortable house of Gisela, in a small community called La Zenia. One thing we loved about it was all the art she had on the walls, colorful examples from an artist friend, gifts from family, and her own photography. Check out that blue sky! We were fortunate to have good, warm weather while we were there. In many ways, it was to be our last taste of summer.
Just checked our google analytics this morning, and we’ve had 176 visits from 5 countries since we opened up the blog in August. That’s pretty cool. So I just wanted to say, thanks for reading and keeping up with us!
Stick with us, as we continue with tales of Barcelona and Spain. Today we’re actually leaving our convenient wifi connection in Bad Honnef at Oma’s house, after a wonderful delay here, and we’re heading to Berlin to say hello to the capital.
In Barcelona Now!
Previously spoken cluster of humanity in the Girona Airport a’ la RyanAir. (Not an accurate depiction of the chaos, but it still doesn’t look like the baggage claim at any non-budget airlines) Please review previous post for more details of RyanAir happenings.
After our exhausted night’s sleep at Hostal Girona. The swankiest portions were not located in the rooms.
The mysterious, cold, gray, stone entry lobby from the 3rd story landing of the Hostal. It proved to be a formidable adversary when faced at 1am with heavy bags and an inoperable elevator.
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As previously stated, we have traveled to Barcelona, Spain that is. After a latenight arrival to Girona Airport on RyanAir (the European budget airline that keeps its costs low by: flying to small refurbished, mostly former military airports, restricts baggage weight to 15 kilos or 33 lbs, and has literally no seating assignments which causes a hurry up and wait mentality complete with ridiculously unorganized rush to get on the plane, get a seat while being jammed with all other passengers trying the same moves of cutting, pushing, skirting, etc.) Needless to say it was a new flight experience.
Anyway…from Girona, about and hour and a half from Barcelona to the northeast, we took a bus to the city center and walked the 7+ blocks to our temporary lodging at the Hostal Girona. We had e-mailed ahead to inform the Hostal management of our late arrival and thought all would OK. Wishful thinking.
Language barriers come suddenly. They hit you like a confusing brick and don’t stop until both parties either figure out their differences, raining understanding on all of God’s creatures or end the conversation in a mess of hand gestures and repeated jabber. Our case with Hostal Girona was the latter, but not because of just the barrier but the rather disagreeable personnel (first attributed to not being a night person, then upon checkout at around noon confirmed to be a bit “poopy”).
Our fortunes seemed to be on the up and up as we checked into our rented apartment in the Eixample neighborhood. The Señora of our flat was very nice, spoke English and had a cute daughter that wanted more to play than to allow her mother to check us in.
Directions in a foreign city. Shooootdang, is that some difficult business! Luckily I had my Suunto watch, complete with barometer, alitmeter and most important, a compass. Who knew that it could be as relevant in urban exploration as it is for mountaineering?
We had heard a lot about how full Sardegna was supposed to be this time of year. Meaning full of Italians. Crowded, and as our crew liked to refer to it, “crowdy.” When we arrived at Franci’s family’s beach house, however, it was sometime in that vague space between 7:30 and 8 AM and the beach was almost empty. In the Mediterranean, there’s not much wave height, and on the East coast of Sardegna there’s even less because of its proximity to Italy’s West coast. So, the waves lapped soft shores near the house, and the equally empty sky was cast in liquid blue.
Our part of the “Middle Sea,” as the Med is called in German, soon exploded in a polychromatic display of very tan Italians. The water itself turned bright turquoise as if to match its visitors. We hid on the terrace of the house, after napping to recover from our overnight ferry, and ate the first of what would be a plethora of bread rolls with proscuitto. It should be noted that we swam each of the eight days we were in Sardegna. And it was the full moon while we were there. It was the second week of our trip, and both of us had already read two books by the end of it, setting a new summer record of a book a week and depleting our English-language reading supplies.
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“Today I woke up feeling tired and not very smart.”
“What do you mean?”
“Last night I had all kinds of good ideas to write about on the blog.”
“The bog?”
“Yes, the bog.”
Long time no bloggy! Greetings from sunny Sardegna, Italy. For those who are unfamiliar and didn’t check the link to wikipedia, Sardegna is an island situated off the coast of Italy. We left Munich after picking up Francesco’s friend Christian and headed south, destination Livorno where we would catch our ferry to Sardegna. 
Through the Alps of Austria. While moving at 130+ km/h taking a good photo of these majestic peaks was quite difficult. Passing through a small section of a European country can take a matter of minutes. We were soon cruising heavy through Northern Italy, home of the best gas station food on Earth.
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Dear readers,
We missed you. Did you miss us? Well, I hope you’re still there, because we will post wildly in catch-up mode until Thursday.
Traveling is great and also annoying because you never know what will happen next. Specifically, I am referring to the fact that our apartment in Barcelona promised wireless internet, a washing machine, and a HiFi. There was no HiFi, the WiFi was hopelessly broken and we could only check email on a Windows machine (no offense), and we could not decipher the cryptic on-and-off button (which needed to be pressed on-and-off repeatedly) of the Spanish washer. We wondered why we picked the slightly more expensive lodgings. And then we got over it and went to go get Tapas.
Anyway, we are in Bad Honnef with my Oma (Grandma for you Anglo-Saxons), and even her house has wireless internet now. Go Germany! So, in between eating indescribable yet delicious Deutsches Essen, we shall regale you with tales of our trip. Sit back, grab an ICE COLD COORS LIGHT (or beverage of your choice), and enjoy.
Your Travelin’ Pants,
Jennifer and Evan
Did you know you can drive to Sardegna from München? With the magic of the ferry, it is made possible.
Top 5 Cool Things We Have Heard About In Sardegna + Want To Try Or See
1. Da Beach Boyeee!
2. Food: Spaghetti Arrabiatta, Pizza Diavolo, and Proscuitto made from Wild Boar
3. Nuraghe, maybe.
4. Chillin, little bit o illin
5. Meeting and hanging with a whole other branch of the Flecke youth