Spain, Switzerland, Austria, Germany, Fate

Here is a very belated re-cap of my almost month old trip to Europe. The first two of 3 days in Barcelona were not the best days/nights of my life. Going from a 5 star hotel to a hostel with a man who snores so loud it could rouse the dead, showers that sometimes work, having to use your beach towel for a shower towel and the stress of being in charge of your rogue 18-year old cousin who you lost at the club and couldn't find for hours, then you find out he walked an hour back to the hostel because he wasn't sure of the name or address of the hostel to get a cab, needless to say, I needed a little respite. And it came in the most unexpected form.

After a day of touring and walking and hiking, having an emotional, draining day, not having slept the night before and in no mood to socialize, I went back to the hostel to shower and change, and I was fully prepared to sit in my bed and read my kindle for the rest of the night, and try to fall asleep before our snoring/freight train of a roommate came back from the bar.

When I got back to the room after my shower, our 4th roommate was in there. My only interaction with her was the night before when I woke her up by turning on the light, I loudly apologized and then she went back to sleep. So my assumption was that she was in no mood to deal with the loud, inconsiderate americans in her room. So I apologized again for last night and we started chatting. S ( I will call her S) is Swiss, spoke German, French, Italian, English, Spanish and Portuguese and was in Barcelona for a week on vacation, alone. She asked me if I had eaten dinner, and if I wanted to grab a bite with her. I hadn't eaten, I would like to join her, so I changed and we set off on her bike, with me sitting on top of the panel above the tire, trying not to knock her off balance, fall and knock my teeth out, or take out a curious bystander. Quite a feat and probably quite a sight. We ended up sitting outside in an almost deserted square a few blocks away from La Rambla, the bustling, loud, overpriced tourist thoroughfare. It was quiet, cool, peaceful and there were only a few other patrons (and a street cleaning truck). We had some of the most delicious tapas, made pleasant conversation with the waitress, and thousands of miles from home I found someone who seemed to be the more cultured, soft-spoken and sweetest version of myself. We had lots in common, plenty to talk about and I felt all my stress melt away almost immediately. It was like we had been friends for years. It was so refreshing and enjoyable, I felt like for a few hours I was exactly where I was supposed to be, and I was so happy. We went to a local bar after dinner for a few beers and continued to swap stories of college, working, dating, friends etc. We made friends with a guy who had his black lab as his wingman at the bar (foolproof method), got hit on by some locals, and soaked up a bar full of rock and roll memorabilia, that felt like we were anywhere but Spain.

My second night of sleep was much better, maybe because of my improved mood, or the fact that S had also been annoyed by his snoring, and I had someone to commiserate with and complain to. She was leaving the next afternoon, but before bed we decided to continue our conversation at breakfast the next day. Breakfast turned into brunch/lunch and more laughing and conversations. 

Then fate stepped in. We had started talking about our families, and I told her that my Nana had passed away in June, my dad's mom, unexpectedly, it was my first grandparent to lose, how hard it has been on my family, and that it had been a stressful summer. Then she told me that she had lost her grandmother, her dad's mom, first grandparent to pass away, and it happened two days after my Nana died. I felt like my heart had stopped beating, but I was filled with peace and happiness. I believe, without a doubt, that Nana saw that I was struggling, and sent me this sweet, understanding, caring, kind, wonderful person to ease the sadness/stress in my heart/head. Or her Nana and my Nana met in heaven, and decided to cross our paths. Whatever it was, it filled my heart and soul with hope, reminded me that people are put in your life for a reason, and that things work in strange and miraculous ways sometimes.

It still gives me chills to think about, and whenever I tell the story I get emotional, but I am so thankful for that experience, to give me back the faith that I had lost in the hustle and bustle. When S had to leave to catch her flight, we hugged for a long time, and promised to stay in touch. I can't think of the words to thank her for coming into my life, I have tried several times, but once I find the words, I will tell her, but I think she might already know :)

I didn't even get to Switzerland, Austria or Germany yet. Oops.

Road Trip Thoughts

After a whirlwind weekend that included driving across the entire state of Ohio to visit my friend and her family in Pittsburgh, spending the weekend with three girls under the age of three, a day on the river, a day at the pool and lots of screaming, jumping, picking up and putting down, and two nights of restless sleep, 5 hours alone in a quiet car may have been just what I needed. 

Except when I have nothing to do, my crazy mind starts working in overdrive and I normally spin out of control. This time I was convinced that a deer was going to prance out of the woods and smash into my car, killing the deer and me, or that I would get a flat tire in this wasteland (kidding) called Ohio and I wouldn't have anyone within a 5 hour radius to fix it (My uncle in Chicago and the friends I just left in Pittsburgh were all I could come up with), which lead me to think that I need to learn how to change a tire myself. Then I started to wonder why I was worrying that something bad would happen, if it was a self-fulfilling prophecy, like if I thought a lot about something bad happening, would it be more likely to happen? I sound crazy, I had a lot of time to think. But thank god nothing bad happened, it was a great weekend road trip, and now I am two days away from HOME!

Re-reading this post, it sort of follows a logical train of thought....sort of.

I can't for the life of me make this post make sense. I had a lot of thoughts during the car ride, some of them productive, some of them bordering on psychotic. AND I was thoroughly amused by this blue station wagon who was chugging along and every time it went over the littlest bump, the back would bounce for the next mile. I was cracking up, probably in both senses of the word. I will stop trying to make this hopeless post into anything other than something I can look back at, shake my head and laugh.

Me and Barry Manilow

Someone please tell me why I heard Barry Manilow's "Mandy" at a restaurant, and now have downloaded it and listened to it multiple times....My name is Amanda, it kinda makes sense (not really), it's a catchy song, I remember it from the scene in Can't Hardly Wait (I just aged myself) when the nerd kid is obsessed with JLH's (Jennifer Love Hewitt, duh) character Amanda, and then the angel stripper lady tells him its a song about his dog. None of that explains why I am listening to it, and now typing about it (and listening to it again) and wondering if I have lost my mind. I also looked up whether or not it was really about his dog, and learned that the writer made up that it was about his dog when the song was called Brandy and people kept asking him who it was about, then when the song became Mandy in the US, the rumor followed it. And that Barry (first name basis people) was addicted to drugs when he recorded it, and that mandy is a nickname for some drug. And now that I am starting to listen to the lyrics, it mentions something to get him to stop shaking, which could be a side effect from drugs. That tidbit was not mentioned on the website full of useless information, maybe I just made a discovery about it! Which still does not explain why I am still listening to it and writing about it!!!

Wow, I really, truly worry myself sometimes. eek. Back to normal pastimes like watching Manzofest on Bravo. Shaking my head.

Spain Recap 2012

Europe Trip 2012, Leg 1: 3 days in Madrid, 3 days in Barcelona :)

Three days in Madrid: After an airport debacle, broken suitcase and a bus and hot walk to the hotel, I spent the afternoon/evening wandering Parque del Buen Retiro with my cousin and his 2 lovely spanish friends, Claudia and Luis. It was nice just for part of a day to have people who could translate for us, help us order food and help us get around. The second day, we slept until 1:30 (oops, jet lag), then hopped on the Madrid City Bus tour to get acclimated to the city, figure out where the high points were and seeing beautiful sights. We visited El Prado museum twice to check out the lovely paintings and sculptures. We wanted to watch the Olympic Men's 100M Track Final, so on our last night we ventured to a sports bar we had found the night before, met some new friends, and the 4 of us were the only ones that cared at all about the Olympics. It was a great race, and we had a good time hanging with our new friends.

Next: Off to Barcelona by train. The high speed train jetted us across the country in only a few hours. Then once we got to Barcelona, the adventure really began. Bye bye luxurious Westin Palace Hotel Madrid, hello living in a hostel, getting lost on the way to hostel, melting in the hot sun dragging suitcases, thanks to the nice man who helped us get to our hostel, hello time warp back to college staying in a room with two complete strangers. One of whom was loudly snoring when we walked in to drop our stuff off (I should have know what would come later). My cousin and I stood awkwardly looking at our new roommate, then hightailed out of there because there wasn't much else to do. We wandered around, found some food and beers, then joined our hostel mates for a "pub crawl" that they host every night, where they take you to a bar right on the water, then to a club that goes underground. Our hostel was part of a chain, and there were 4 other hostels around the city, so we all met at one and a huge group of tourists trekked off together. There were Aussies, Canadians, Americans, kiwis, and they all had such interesting travel plans and stories. 3 months, 6 months, 9 months on the road, traveling until they ran out of money, traveling alone or with friends, finding a place they loved and staying there longer than planned, on holiday from "university", studying abroad. It was super refreshing to be in such a laid back atmosphere. I met some really nice people, lost my cousin in the club, and panicked until he came back to the hostel after walking all the way home (took him almost an hour, he didn't remember the name of the hostel, and I am a bad older cousin for not stamping it on his forehead). The next day we hopped on another city tour which dropped us off at the high points of Barcelona (Camp Nou-Barca futbol stadium, Park Guell, La Sagrada Familia, the Gothic district, shopping avenue, and other churches, plazas and squares. We did Park Guell as our last stop on a long, hot day, and I was struggling, emotional, tired, not having a good day at all. But we decided to hike up to the top of the hill (I was wearing a dress and flimsy flip flops), and we were panting and sweating by the time we got to the top, but we had amazing panoramic views of the hills, valleys, ocean and city of Barcelona. Breathtaking!

Phew, that was a lot, and that is only the abridged version of the first 6 days! More later :)