Au Revoir

France, the country of amazing bread, fine wine, unique cheeses, and even more unique people. It seems like everyone is very proud of their country...and they have the right to be.

I sat outside the train station for about two hours today waiting for my next train. I was randomly greeted by another traveller (although I think he was homeless) who was playing guitar in front of the station. He didn't speak much English, but the guy he was with served as our translator.

We sat there playing guitar and singing for almost two hours. I eventually busted out my harmonica and started belting out the five tunes I knew. Soooo fun. People passing by would always stop and listen for a few minutes before continuing. I felt free.

Anyways, eventually the man asked me the one question that most French people do: So do you agree that France is beautiful?

You see, if I was to describe America, I would use words like awesome or amazing. But France...France is beautiful.

I'm sitting here on my train to Germany right now. Usually, I sit facing forward to see what's coming. But right now, now I'm facing backwards...watching the beautiful countryside and mountains pass behind us, melting into the distance.

Goodbye France, I'll see you again in a few weeks...

Lyon (Part Deux)

So I finally met up with Marine, my new French CouchSurfing friend. She lived with her family about fifteen minutes outside of town in a small village right on the river.

I was greeted by an ecstatic father, who couldn't wait to speak English with me. Her beautiful mother had prepared an amazing five course French meal for us. And everytime my glass of wine went below the halfway point, Marine's father was quick to refill it, hahah. So cool.

REAL French bread is PERFECT. I just don't understand why we call our bland, run-of-the-mill bakery loaves "french bread". It is waaaaay better in France. We ended the meal with cheeses, and fruits, and more wine of course. And then her dad broke open an old bottle of cognac for me and insisted I finish the meal with a couple of shots. I love the French.

I spent the next day walking around town some more while Marine was in class. There was a huge park with a gorgeous lake, and even a zoo. The elephants were even DANCING for us. It was crazy.

I was sitting on a bench resting for a bit, when all of a sudden a little 4yr old French boy comes running up to me and very politely shouted, "Bonjour, Monsieur!" Totally made my day.

Lyon (Part One)

After a few days in Montpellier, I said my goodbyes and headed north to Lyon. I was supposed to stay with another CouchSurfing friend there, but I got in late. So I found a cool hostel up on the hill overlooking the city.

There was an amazing view of Lyon. I could see cathedrals, huge apartment buildings, and both of the rivers winding through town. Near us was a mini Eiffel Tower that was used as some kind of radio antenna or something. There was also a huge cathedral modelled after Notre Dame (I think).

I met a crazy Korean guy staying in my hostel room, so we explored the town together the next day. Lyon was full of statues and monuments. The city is centered between two amazing green rivers. I don't quite understand how the water gets this color, but it adds a surreal feeling everywhere you go.

Back at the hostel, I sat with a young Aussie woman who was a travel journalist for Lonely Planet, and was just beginning her tour of France for next year's guide. I totally envied her job. She even bought me a beer. ;)

Montpellier and CouchSurfing

Oops, I almost forgot I had a blog there for a moment...

So, I decided to try CouchSurfing for the first time, and boy am I glad that I did. My first experience was with my new friend Romain. I arrived around 3pm, and he immediately took me out for a snack. He had an old friend that worked at a pub that he frequented, so we decided to head there.

We were immediately present with a HUGE platter of french appetizers, all for FREE. They were amazing...succulent little meatpie thingies, flaky pastries, and tiny french burgers which melted in your mouth. I was already loving France.

Romain showed me around his city, full of history and beauty. I had an awesome time just walking around. I met a ton of his friends, all very friendly. His neighbor was from Africa, and he invited us over the first night for drinks and such. Very fun.

Romain lived with three other Frenchies in a rather large apartment. So funny. One of his roomies would always wake up to the same techno song, and you could hear him slowly getting ready to the beat of untss, untss, untss. I loved it.

My first day there I saw soooooo many cute French women. It was like Hawai'i almost. Totally not hairy, as the rumors describe.

Romain made us ratatoille for my last night. Uh may zing. Can't wait to make it when I get home.

Journey to France (Part Two)

I didn't sleep at all that night. I think it was the combination of the freezing wind and the fear of impending rape.

But as the sun rose, and I looked out of my tent to see the pines and thousands of white flowers, I felt refreshed. Just a little.

I packed up my gear and headed on. I can't remember how long I had been walking before the laziness got hold of me. I was taking a break standing on a bridge, and saw bus after bus leaving the town. Maybe I'll just go and check the prices.

Long story short, I caved in and just forked out the money for a train to the Spain/France border. I stopped in a small town called Portbou. It was centered around a small cove of the Mediterranean, and literally ONLY had old people walking around. I felt weird.

I hopped back on the next train, and when it arrived, I was stopped by a police officer at the gate. "Mey I hav yeurh passport pleuse?" he asked. I went berserk, and said "Is this France?!" He smiled and replied, "It iz beautiful, iz it not?"

I can't even describe to you how excited I was. I stared out the window of the next train in awe. I saw a little stream and was like, "A French stream!" We passed by a large vineyard and I was like, "French grapes!!"

Anyways, now I'm here in Montpellier chillin' with some CouchSurfing buddies. Gonna tour the town some today. Pictures to come...

Journey to France (Part One)

I walked halfway to France this week. What'd you do?

So I woke up Thursday morning at a friend's apartment in Barcelona, and I decided it was time to move on from Spain. So I took the metro to the edge of town, trusty backpack strapped tight, and I just started walking.

I walked past parks and streams, industrial areas and small villages, under highways and over bridges. It's an amazing feeling to just walk, knowing you have absolutely nothing better to do, hahah.

I took a break at a gas station, and while resting I tried to hitch a ride. But no one would pick me up. I felt so lonely. So I just continued my hike.

After hours and hours of trekking on, I started to second guess my decision. I had walked the whole day to cover the amount of highway that a car would make in half an hour. It was kinda discouraging.

Was I really saving that much money by doing this?

But just as I was about to give up, I saw it- a trusty walking stick. It was perfect....made of sugar cane and the perfect height. I picked up this item and instantly felt renewed. So I trudged onward.

And for some reason, after finding that walking stick, everything seemed beautiful again.

As night was beginning to fall, I started looking for a place to camp. I came across a couple acres of land, full of pine trees and white flowers, surrounded by three highways that formed a triangle. I figured it would be a safe place because literally no one else was walking to France.

So I found a nice patch of soft grass, set up my tent in the shadow of two pines, and had a croissant.

Barcelona (Day Six)

Scratch that. Still day five. I just didn't know what to call it. I actually DIDN'T take a nap after climbing that mountain yesterday. I decided that burning 6,000 calories just wasn't enough.

So after my rapid descent, I moseyed around to the coast. Barcelona is full of monuments, cathedrals and strange sculptures. Each one adds a unique feeling to its surroundings.

I sat under a palm tree to rest for a bit. The Mediterranean was two blocks away, looking as crystal green as ever. I watched two idiots trying to hitchhike on the main road. No one was even giving their frantic thumbing and sign shaking a second glance. Can't wait to try that tomorrow.

I came to the busy Las Ramblas again, and walked up the avenue surrounded by Arabs making weird noises with their mouths (I'm serious, they all had noisemakers in their mouths, dumb). I found the Boqueria Mercat, which is a huge indoor market full of meats and veggies and fish.

But I found a small Korean lady who was selling amazing combo plates (Becky, you're missing out), so I opted out for Asian food instead. I found a bench on the main street, and sat there talking to two German girls also visiting Barcelona. After exchanging stories, I continued on my trek.

I came across a huge fountain in what was considered the center of Barcelona. Huge jets shot skyward, billowing waves of cool water gushed over the edges. Legend has it that everyone who has taken a drink from this age old fountain has eventually returned to Barcelona at some point in their lives.

But I didn't want lepto, so I passed by...still thirsty.

I continued onward to the Sagrada Familia, an enormous unfinished cathedral designed by the architect Gaudi. He died back in the early 1900s, but they continued to construct his dream. It is apparently the WORLD'S most visited construction site. And you have to pay to go in.

I walked down the street some more and found a wannabe Arc de Triomf [sic]. It was reddish colored and in a horrible location. But it was still cool. I came across a park nearby full of young people sitting on the grass playing music. There were like ten different groups of people in drum circles. I felt like I was back in the 70s.

Then I walked down to the coast again, and nearly ran into a BUCK NAKED old man walking down the sidewalk! Ridiculous. I guess public nudity isn't frowned up here. I totally got a picture (I'll put it up later).

Barcelona (Day Five)

Rising above Barcelona's southern edge lies the intimidating Montjuic, a mountain with historical significance almost as big as my appetite. It was said that whichever regime controlled Montjuic would control the city.

Sounds like a challenge.

So I climbed to the top of this mountain, which was full of parks and winding trails, and at the top there was a huge fortress, seemingly impenetrable. Luckily for me there was a tourist entrance, so I strolled right in.

From the corner of the fortress, you could see all of the valley and around the coast. It was a beautiful view. I could see almost all of Barcelona's landmarks in just one glance. No wonder this was a strategic stronghold.

After playing king-of-the-hill with two big Germans and a rather large Spaniard (totally lying), I left the fortress and wandered around a bit. Eventually, I came across two archers practicing with eachother. They were shooting BULLSEYES at fifty yards. Very impressive.

After clapping and getting forced to leave (also a lie), I wandered around the mountain a bit more and found a track, a huge stadium, and tons of little stands and such. It was then that I realized that I was walking around the Olympic grounds from the Barcelona Summer Olympics. What a coincidence.

Mountain conquered, I decided to hike back down for some water and a nap.

Barcelona (Day Four)

Well, after the airlines lost my backpack, I wasn't exactly in the greatest of moods (or in the greatest of hygienic states). So I pretty much just chilled in the hostel with friends for the first couple days.

But now that my belongings have been returned, I feel up to exploring again.

We just returned from a four hour walk around the city. Saw the beaches and monuments, tons of street performers, and even people performing ON THE SUBWAY. There was an accordion player and a fiddler just belting out their tunes (and subsequently begging for money).

But even with all that walking, I feel like I've barely scratched the surface of Barcelona. One glance at a map yields hundreds of photo ops and must-see sights. So I'm glad I have a few more days here.

My posh British travel buddy went on his way around Spain yesterday, so I've been chillin with two Americans and an Aussie. They've been fun.

Hmmm...highlights of Barcelona so far? Gaudi Park, which is a huge park on top of the hill, full of cacti and amazing rock formations. It also had buildings by the architect Gaudi, which look like a cross between Dr. Seuss and something you'd see in Disney World. Very interesting, slash melty.

We were walking around Las Ramblas (kinda like their Main Street) last night, and found a cool bar that Vincent Van Gogh used to frequent. It was an oooooold bar. Looked like he may have painted the walls...before he learned how to paint.

And the Trip Goes on...

Dear Joey,

Where are you? I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere.

I can hear several voices which sound like lazy, incompetent Spaniards.

Please find me soon.

Love,

Your Backpack


Dear Backpack,

I'm glad we have been reunited. I missed you immensely. Mostly the toothbrush and shower stuff in your top pocket.

Remind me never to trust a small, ghetto airline with you again.

Joey

Palma de Mallorca

Imagine a beautiful Mediterranean island. Sunny, breezy, teeming with sealife/wildlife/nightlife. Imagine the crystal clear sky and pristine white sand beaches. Wish you were there?

So do I.

Welcome to the freeeeezing island of Mallorca. We took an expensive eight hour ferry to get here, and it was SNOWING when we arrived. Snowing. At sea level. In the Mediterranean.

My toes were numb after walking twenty minutes in my awesome (but totally inappropriate) crocs. We could barely muster up enough courage to leave the hostel. Totally retarded.

When we finally did leave, we walked around town a bit and realized that there wasn't much here. Maybe a huge cathedral here and there, but nothing like the postcards they were selling on the ferry.

The ferry was great, btw. It had a huge cafeteria, and a big bar area, and tons of VIP sections. I spent too much on the ticket to spend money on the scrumptious buffet, so I ate a cold spanish potato sandwich instead. Gross. But good. I have mixed feelings about that one.

Anyways, we found a cool English pub for dinner. Got their breakfast special, which was quite filling. And then stayed and hung out with old English men on vacation, screaming and swearing for their soccer teams. Quite entertaining.

Valencia (Part Two)

Anyways, everyone knows that Valencia is world-famous for their oranges. What they don't know, is that they only plant BITTER oranges throughout the city.

Just walking for ten minutes, you would see dozens and dozens of orange trees. And they really are quite nice. But imagine if the thousands of tourists were to pick one orange a piece. They would be bare.

Enter, the bitter orange. They look identical to the normal trees, except for a small bulge on the bottom of the leaves. And they are sour and disgusting. Good way to keep the oranges on the trees. And beggars on the streets.

So we explored the city a bit, enjoying the sun and the architecture. We met a few American girls that went on a free walking tour with us around the city. Got a ton of amazing pics. Met a European guy named Zuka, who apparently has been hitchhiking all the way from Eastern Europe, sleeping in caves and fields and such, and just being awesome. I was immediately envious.

We all went to a soccer game that night at the local stadium. It was PACKED. So many screaming soccer fans. Europeans sure do take their futbol seriously.

The next day we explored the small shops and markets around town, ate some huge strawberries, and made cheap chorizo sandwiches. Such is the life of a backpacker.

Valencia (Part One)

Me and Lucas took a loooooong bus up the coast towards Valencia. So much beautiful coastline up here. It has a totally different feel than the Pacific or Atlantic.

We got into town and quickly found our hostel about two miles away (that's considered close). It was somehow built in the same building as an old cathedral. Very strange to sit on the roof and see a huge steeple twenty feet away.

We got a city map and immediately noticed a huge river winding through the length of the city, but it was colored green on the map. So we headed off to investigate. What we found was a long park, about a hundred yards wide, running for MILES in the middle of the city. I mean, this was impressive enough. The park had soccer fields, and monuments, and all kinds of playgrounds.

Apparently in the olden days, they had to divert the river away from the city to prevent flooding. And before the construction crews could fill in the empty canal, the locals would come at night and plant trees and flowers in the middle of the dry riverbed. The next morning, the construction crew would uproot the shrubbery and continue. But the locals would come back at night and do the same thing.

Eventually, the construction crews gave up, and now they are left with an amazing, winding park, always a ten minute walk from wherever you are. Pretty cool.

Almeria - The Asshole of Spain

Well that's what the locals call it at least...

It actually wasn't that bad, considering that the streets were perpetually covered in dog feces.

The coast was amazing- clear green water, 10-mile long boardwalk, and alot of rude customer service people. There were a shortage of proper backpacker hostels (mostly likely due to the town's nickname), so we splurged on a decent hotel.

Not much really to say about the town (as evidenced by the lack of pictures), but it was a nice stopover for a day.

Granada, Flamenco, and Tapas Bars

So me, a British guy named Lucas, and a Canadian named Jeff decided to grab a bus to Granada for a couple days. We're staying at a cool little hostel called the Funky Backpacker. I think it's an old Arab apartment building. Pretty cool.

We've explored the town, saw the huge Muslim fort, and chilled with quite a few women. Granada has TONS of hot Spanish girls. It's unbelievable.

We went to a flamenco show last night in the gypsy caves. Sooooo cool. The room was more like a small tunnel about ten feet wide, with benches along either side. And the flamenco dancers would come dancing right in front of you, tapping their shoes and clapping their little clicky things, all while their twirling dresses kept slapping your shins.

The gypsies even sang while dancing. Very interesting show. I'm taking it up as a new hobby.

Another thing Granada is known for are their "tapas" bars. Apparently in the days of old, every beer would come served with a small appetizer on a tiny plate balanced ON TOP of your beer. They called these tapas, and they're FREEEEEEEE. With EVERY drink!

So instead of dinner, we went on a little tapas bar tour, and got full off all those little snacks. We had small pizzas, Spanish hamburgers, sardines on bruschetta, chicken skewers, and all kinds of things. And normally each beer/tapas combination is around 1-2 euros. Good deal.

Malaga Day Two

The second day in Malaga was amazing. The sun was hot, the beaches were warm, and there were a lot more ppl out. We all mingled at breakfast and decided to take a stroll along the coast.

So the six of us went along the beach of Malaga, drawing in the sand and playing on the playgrounds. We went window shopping in town and just chilled during the day.

We all made pasta for dinner back at the hostel, and added two French guys and two Irish guys to our entourage. They were hilarious. It's amazing how strangers become close friends over cheap bottles of Spanish whiskey.

We hung out that night, painted the town red, and chilled back at the hostel.

The next day at breakfast we were chillin' with these two British guys and found out that one of them was the child actor from The Mummy Returns. How random...

Fun in Malaga

So I headed towards the coast a few days ago to the town of Malaga. It was pouring down rain. So I had to walk about 4 miles with a poncho on to find my hostel.

I arrived to find my name scrawled on a chalkboard under a big welcome sign. I felt special. The hostel was directly across the street from the beach, and the room had balconies overlooking the Mediterranean. Not bad for 12 euros a night.

I walked into my room to find four of my roomies lazily lying in bed. So I did my best to rally the troops. There were three Canadian guys, two British girls, and a little Dutch girl. The hostel really did live up to its name- The Melting Pot.

Everyone was friendly. We went to the nearby grocery store and got a ton of frozen pizzas and cheap Spanish beer, then went back to devour our feast.

Later, we all decided to go out on the town. We were definitely a sight to see. The night ended with us walking home and each singing our countries' national anthems at the top of our lungs. Brilliant.

Seville Night One

Wow, what an amazing city. Seville is situated right along the winding Guadalquivir River (as if that should mean something to you). Towering over the city is the Catedral de Sevilla. It is the third largest cathedral in the world. Sounds like the perfect spot for an international incident.

My first faux paus came by way of a slightly gender confused german girl. Let me start from the beginning.

I was on the roof terrace of our hostel in downtown Seville, when I met this gorgeous eastern european girl. Being from a war torn and desolate region, she couldn't help but find herself desperately attracted to a young man full of charm and wit befitting of the most powerful country on earth (albeit, the one that destroyed her homeland).

So we hit it off, and decided to head to a local bar for drinks and such. She invited a couple of her roomies to come along, and we started walking around. After introductions, I casually commented on what I thought was an acute observation of the situation.

"Wow, Giovanna (I totally made this name up. Her real name had maybe 15 letters). You must feel pretty special being surrounded by your entourage of three guys."

Now normally this would illicit a tiny smile or a slight giggle. But all I saw was this european girl and her guy friend staring at the German guy in the group.

Uh oh.

So apparently short hair and guy jackets is all the rage in southern Germany, and I had totally missed the memo. Good thing I talk fast and I mumble, because she didn't look too offended. Guess the insult was lost in translation. Perfecto.