Status update

I have finally decided to make a move and fly up to Bordeaux France and partake in the Plum Village retreat, as suggested from a good friend :) http://www.plumvillage.org/ Iºm looking forward to this one week adventure but at the moment am unsure they received my registration and I have a feeling that I may have some difficulties upon arrival. But Iºm going never the less. I leave july 8th and return back to Lisboa on July 18th.

On July 20th, I fly on to Athens, Greece for my next chapter. Unless something significant happens between now and then, Iºve decided not to stay in Portugal. I had aspirations to stay and enroll in a TEFL course here but at the moment, Iºm not feeling like thatºs what I want to do - I want to get over to Asia sooner rather than later. I feel a pull.

Word of the week: The Heckle

So, I have experienced a numerous variety of heckling here. Two of which Iºm very familiar with and one, not so much.

Is it true to say there´s a bloody Irish pub in every fecking big city in the world? I enjoyed my first bit of reciprocated English in almost 2 weeks a few days ago. Although I couldn´t make out half of what the Yorkie said because number one, he had a few too many and two, he had the hiccups, I enjoyed every minute of it. My Brazilian friend Pedro and I sauntered in to this Irish pub here in Lisboa (Lisbon, Dad!) on a Sunday and found ourselves amidst a one sided conversation with this older gentlemen about anything you ever wanted to learn from a newspaper, magazine and travel guide. Still not sure how he was able to drink his beer to the same cant as myself - practice, I suppose. He did introduce me to a new German beer and swore up and down that the Germans make the best, cleanest beer in the world. I meant to write down the name so I´ll try to update you all on that one. Anyway after my first glass of Guinness, the bar held their weekly Sunday quiz contest - in English of course. The Yorkie didn´t wait long before heckling the lovely female announcers with rubbish comments - Train, do you know this guy? It was an awesome spectacle and I felt right at home.

My next familiar form of heckle came from my first ever pick-up game of Ultimate Frisbee on a beach! It was a fantastic feeling of throwing this beautiful piece of plastic with the ocean begging in the background. That is, until I had to run in it. Gruesome and I had no game on these people until I slowly figured out a new way of running. As I sat and watched a game, one of the locals yelled out a familiar sound - ah yes, I thought - I know this sweet lullaby I call the heckle. Nice! UF isn´t any different here. I felt right at home.

Today I experienced Mercado de Carcavelos - Carcavelos Market! A crazy event of merchants selling their wears for cheap cheap cheap. Is it just me or is it that all local merchants at these outdoor markets seem to carry the same bloody crap in the same color and everything? It looses it´s value by the fourth time you see it. The amazing thing I witnessed was the style of their selling technique. Most of the vigorous venders would sit or stand on the same table of which their articles were promoted and proceed to yell out to the customers their cheaper price and how much better their good was than their neighbor´s. And when one would let out a scream, the adjacent vender would yell even louder with a throaty rumble. I even saw three separate kids - I´m talking like 6 years old, yelling out their mother or father´s complimenting yowl, no less in volume or meaning.

Voce´ tem com leite? (Do you have coffee with milk?)

With a week now in Portugal under my belt, I can give some insight into the Lisboa culture. I say Lisboa because other parts of the country are apparently a little different including the language pronunciation.

Well, already I can see a major difference between here and other regions I have been. Life is much more relaxed, people take more time, not in a hurry, a little more patient than what I have seen thus far. I have noticed more smiling faces and comraderie here than in UK. Not that the UK doesnºt have this but it is not as apparent in public to me. I feel a little more at ease with finding my way around even though I have no idea where Iºm at sometimes. Actually, I havenºt been lost yet.

Lisboa is easy to get around in. Transportation seems very advanced as far as a wide range of public transportation to choose from AND so far understanding how to purchase a ticket has been straight-forward. I can even say that the public transportation here is better than in Denver.

I will wait to comment about the food here. I had one meal that was pretty tasty which consisted of a crepe with some kind of mushroom/bolognase(sp?) type sauce but otherwise, I think I need a ibt more time to figure out where is good to eat.

I find that fashion here speaks to Portuguese culture. For instance, the Portuguese do not customarily wear shorts out in public except at the beach. Regardless of how crazy hot it is outside, they wear pants, long skirt or calf length pants (forget the name). Quite a style of their own to me versus London - wonºt even mention Denver. Style is fairly consistent as well with only one or two that are different. Girls wear jeans with cute tank top or strapped blouse usually orange, brown or some other more latin color, women wear slacks or long skirt, men wear whatever - some younger ones wear jeans or long shorts and men will wear nice slacks with short-sleeved button-up shirt with colar. Seems a bit conservative to me yet with some flair especially since the clothing is cut very differently than we are accustomed to. I have explored some of the clothing shops ( would you expect anything less?) and immediately noticed that all the pants & jeans are cut very long - canºt find anything that wouldnºt need a seamstress. Women and girls here are fairly petite and especially skinny. Rare to see a girl under 30 who is even slightly overweight! Hardly anyone colors their hair here, that I can tell. So as you can imagine, I no longer have the luxury of blending in. In fact, I really felt conscience of glares when I wore my shorts out the first two days. I would say it is a bit more formal here.

For the most part everyone has been very nice to me and willing to help. Sometimes I have needed to speak without the aid of English on the other end but all in all, I have managed albeit with itºs challenges.

At the moment I am renting a room in an apartment that my friend found me in Carcavelos which is a town not too far up the coast from Lisboa on the beach. It is a decent place and my roommates are very nice and speak good English. It is a 5 minute walk to the beach and I pay 7€/night.

Excuse the drabby nature of this post because of itºs more informative nature.

By Chance

What if I told you I ran into my former next door neighbor in my Londons hostel´s reception area last week? I just about fell off my rocker. It was truly a nice surprise. I mean, what are the chances out of a city of 8 million crazy people.

Nice to see you, Phil! Thanks for the sweet note.

What's next?

So, my next move after spending way too much time in England is Portugal! Don't get me wrong, there's alot to see here and I have just began to touch the surface but for my needs, I must move on.

I'm off to my first place of the trip where I don't know the language - or very minimal. I've heard many great things about Portugal especially that the people are very nice. I must tell you all that this will be muito welcomed! I am tired of London and all the rudeness that it affords. I don't blame them - this place breeds upon itself this manner in which people act. Stepping in front of another to gain an edge, cutting you off, shoulder rubbing - does any know how to say, excuse me anymore? If you aren't assertive, you'll get left behind.

And how about a fan? Geesh! I finally saw my first fan today in a very nice cafe in the Stamford Brook neighborhood where I've been staying. It's not super hot here but it's been sultry and humid for the past few days. This is interesting to me - the weather has actually been very mild and nice here/cool. However, none of these buildings have ventilation of any kind. The tube station is worse. Poor people ride for upwards of 30 minutes in these cars - no wonder they're rude.

Yesterday I got onto the tube to catch a ride home. As we all hopped on to the busy train, a lady said to a young girl, perhaps a relative or friend, "This isn't America - you have to fend for yourself here". They both were English. Yea, I don't think my Dad would like it here.

Bath

As a side trip, I decided to venture off to Bath, England, overnight - about 3 hours bus ride from London. In case you're unfamiliar, Bath is known for it's Roman Baths that were left undiscovered until 1800's or so. As usual, I didn't do much research into the details. Had heard from several friends and other travelers that it was very lovely. I just figured this place had a few baths and nice buildings!

To my surprise, this is not just a town with a few swimming holes. But rather, the ruins of the Roman Empire - a very sacred and spiritual meca for them. Quite astonishing, really. Unfortunately, a good portion of the ruins are lost however, they were able to digitally (looks like an autocad program of some sort) display in 3D what the temple would have looked like 2,000 yrs ago! Absolutely stunning. And to think that the plumbing system they built back then still works today pumping in 250,000 gallons of water each day. http://www.romanbaths.co.uk/
The romans ruled 3/4ths of modern Europe back then but when the empire collapsed, so did the walls of the temple leaving everything in ruin and practically underground, undiscovered. The british discovered 2 of the baths apparently back in the 18th century but the rest of it was left untouched until later.

The attraction was impressive. As you look at the website though, notice that only the lower portion of the walls of the King's bath are Roman. The rest was built by the English with limestone in an attempt to restore how it might have looked.

The city of Bath is beatiful and the people I found to be very sweet calling me "lass" & "my love". A somewhat romantic villa however, I hear it gets mad with tourists in the summer, especially on the weekends. Mid week proved to be manageable and my hostel, The White Hart, was excellent.

Well, hard to put into words the amount of history that is not only in this town but throughout Britain and Ireland as a whole.

What to bring/what to take - now, what to send back?

How to pack for this trip has been prolly my biggest dilemma. It truly shows how much a person really understands about themselves. Peculiar, isn't it? But I assure you I speak the truth.

I haven't met anyone (yet) that is carrying less than myself, I'm proud to say. In fact, I was met with one comment from a guy from LA - he said, "You're traveling for a year; don't you need more?" I couldn't help but laugh. It was pointless to explain.

What items does a person deem invaluable. And at what point do you say, no more? Books have been written on the subject; I've read at least one. It has helped me greatly to see the difference between a true traveler and what I would call, "an oblivious city-hopping, guided tour consumer". These people bring everything from different sized hair brushes to their own slippers & PJ's. Sounds important. I haven't seen a bag under 60 litres, I don't think. Men are no exception. This is terrible of me but I have to laugh at the packing jobs these people do. I met a super nice girl from Brasil, Ann. Very sweet to me and interested in my trip to Portugal. As she was putting on her pack to check out of the room, it was terribly obvious that her pack was not only lop-sided but the bottom wasn't nearly as packed out as the top! How do these people carry these crazed animals we cynch up.and saddle? Are they traveling by taxi? But staying in a hostel?

After having shipped my first box home and ripping out the important section of a book so I didn't have to carry it, I've learned some hard lessons. One, assuming your trip is similar to mine, don't bring much to start with - especially clothes. Ok, this is my opinion but I have found that almost everything we have at home, they have here (Europe). With some of you, this is obvious. For me, I think I got this piece close for starters. I have found that it's good to bring a foundational base of clothes that you have, need & require for your entire journey. These might include, 3-4 underwear, 3 socks, swimsuit, bra(s), 1-2 quick drying short-sleeved shirts, extremely light, quick-drying convertable pants (if encountering cold weather, big enough pants to wear liner underneath), long-sleeved quick-drying shirt, 1 pair shorts (I'll come back to this), 1 simple nice blouse for night time - light and cool, fleece jacket, super powerful rain jacket, high quality with hood. ! pair sandals & 1 pair of walking shoes or comfortable shoes that you could stand on forever if need be - please, not white - might as well have flashing lights saying, "I'm a bloody American that doesn't know any better".

Use this foundation for all your destinations, no matter what the weather. One of my books said it nicely, "If you change your clothes, change cities!" While in a country, you'll find that it is fun to find local clothing to help you ease into their way of life. For middle Eastern countries and some more religious European countries, this is even more important. Thus, with my foundation I can build onto that a few extra local items that will help me blend in, if you will. Of course, I want my own flare and style however, it's fun to find new fashion that you love - believe me, it's everywhere here. When you leave that country for another, you can either take these items with you if they make sense OR ship them back as your own souvenir. I've even heard of trading them with other traverlers. I have not experienced this yet.

It has been difficult for me to make these decisions especially when I have no idea what a place is like or what people are wearing. You could wear anything in London and fit in however, they definitely are into shoes that are close to the ground, like cars that are low-riders. They look like they have no support in them - not sure if I like them but Merrill makes a really nice shoe for this style. The 80's are back here in London. Flipped up colars, pastels, belts on outside of pants and, Oh my God, boots with jeans tucked inside. Punky hairdo's. My favorite is the skirt on the outside of pants/jeans - I really like this concept actually. I never seem to get the camera ready in time for any style that's over the top.

I think this is my ticket to traveling lightly. Why bring 4 pairs of shorts when you can bring 1 and buy 2 others plus the pair from your convertible pants. Also, you'll prolly find a nice article of clothing that adapts to the environment more efficiently than what you might find at home. So, leave home without it!

Pudding

Nottingham primarily consisted of relaxation however, I did manage to see some sights/activities. Soon after arriving, we drove to Emma's parents house near Warwick (War-ick) and had a proper Sunday dinner. This includes a roast, loads of vegitables, of course potatoes, custard & Yorkshire Pudding! I was astonished to discover her mother, Jean, also made desserts! Woah! Was she expecting the cavalry? Or was she just expecting a hungry American. The whole meal was lovely but the desserts were divine! Thanks.

My visit was great. They have a very nice back yard with lovely flowers and trees, three cats & my favorite of all, a thirty-five yr old Tortoise named, George. He roams free in the back yard and then has a little home when he sleeps. That was pretty cool, I thought. hmmm, how could I have a tortoise in my yard - the wheels were clicking as you can imagine but no worries - I'm keeping the farm as is.

We took a walk in the neighborhood afterwards and I was escorted by her father with historical leads. Very quaint area. Nice swans, The Avon, horses, buttercups, Rhodendrums abound. . . Very peaceful.

Later in the week, Emma took me to The Peak National park (correct me if I'm wrong with the name) for a nice hike with Emily. Nice place and it felt great to get out for it was a beautiful day. We also visited Stratford - Shakespeare's birth place & his wife's house which was actually pretty impressively conserved.

I've been introduced to some new foods which I'd like to share. Elderflower cordial. This is a very nice concentrate of this flower which you add to sparkling water - super smooth and refreshing. I wish I could bring some home. The yogart here is wonderful - I could eat this stuff every day - Yeo Valley Black Currant is my favorite. I think I'm finally getting tired of chicken Tikka - a mild Indian flavor they add to chicken to make like a chicken salad or rice dish. Cheese is also really yummy here. Emma even had some kind of greek cream cheese - very nice with smoked salmon. Well, I ate like a queen at Emma & Rob's, to say the least. I can't shake these hobnobbs though: scrumcious oat cookies! They even come with chocolate too. Oh, and the chocolate/carmel covered shortbread - keep your hands away or I'll cut them off. That stuff is sinful. I'm sure I'm forgetting something.

One of my last night's in Nottingham was spent bar hopping with Emma and local mates of her's. Very nice gentlemen, they were. We had a great time drinking and taking taxis around town. My favorite place was the oldest pub in England (so they tell you - I guess there's more than one in England), Ye Olde Trip to Jerusalem is her name from 1189: http://www.bbc.co.uk/nottingham/360/public_houses/ye_olde_trip_to_jerusalem_interior.shtml
Was a pretty cool place especially since it's in the side of the rock/cave. I really liked it. Here's a blurb from the website:

We are told the Trip to Jerusalem is so called because the Crusaders, if not Lion-hearted Richard himself, dropped off there to grab a quick pint of Kimberley Mild on the way to rid the Holyland of the heathens. This may be so, although Richard spent little time in England.
In fact the word "trip" does not mean a journey in this case. An old meaning for trip is a stop on a journey, like being tripped up, so the inn’s name means a stop or rest on the way to Jerusalem.

Enjoy.

Oh Dear

Living with a family invoked many things for me let alone the fact that I was in Nottingham, England. More civilized. Scheduled days, meals, activities. Quite a change for me. I really loved every minute of it especially the experience of what it's like to have a baby around. Woah! I really want to congratulate both Emma & Rob for doing such a fabulous job on raising a child. Everything from their excellent care to what they feed her (avocados, other vegis, yams, and even nice little desserts) - just all around good care with a little bit of spoiling, but really healthy if you ask me. She is going to grow into a special young lady!

I encountered many reflections upon my childhood from this experience that had quite an impact on me. Memories that I had since forgotten. Even just simple things like remembering some of my childhood clothing and pajamas. My childhood dinner plate. Expressions that I said or my family said when I was little such as my uncle's humour, my nickname lalu, the many hats I would wear - at the same time, one on top of each other. Childhood pictures, activities and games I played such as light bright, lincoln logs & all my cool cars. I loved the puzzle I had which was of each state of the U.S. And above everything, all the attention you get as a child. I remember having that awareness of getting talked about with family and friends and I do remember my Dad being so proud of me and telling people this. I can still feel what that felt like back then - just through the time spent with little Emily. It's such a special feeling.

All the fun times we had together - me and my Dad. Whistling in the car and singing all those childhood songs like "Old McDonald" & some I don't know the names of but could repeat. I even can remember the tongue twisters I learned back then - Betty Baughter & Theofolus Thistle. Learning how to throw a football, catching softball grounders out on our gravel road, shot hot shots with my sister's leather basketball, learning how to put a golf ball, trying to fly the cool war model airplane - the green one with the teeth; we never did get that thing to fly. Too bad we didn't incorporate the frisbee. Oh and all that wonderful baking I did as a kid - loaves of molasses bread, chocolate cakes, monkey bread, cookies all the time - I loved baking new recipes. I was especially proud of my first garden and growing Marigolds. Life was great in my childhood until my interests started to separate from my Dad's. I wonder if that's part of the struggle I still have; hmmmm (scratching my head).

Having a child is hard work as everyone knows - but now, I know. Reminds me of the responsibility I have with my animals and the love that goes with it. Unconditional love is so heavy and has such depth and dimension. How can you describe it but that it just embellishes life almost as if every flavor you taste is as deep as you could ever have imagined. Unmeasurable and without limit except to say that it IS unconditional. No wonder so many people are scared of it.

Nottingham

May 28th, I set off for Nottingham, England - home of Robin Hood. My friend Emma Pearson and husband, Rob and little Emily live here (14 months). Wonderful to see her. I yet have not made plans after this point but hope to make a nice visit by catching up with a good friend.

Again, very spoiled. I have my own nice room, healthy homemade meals and internet service at my fingernails. Back to some sunshine and a bit warmer weather than Ireland. More for the next post. . .

Land of Guiness

One of the evenings, Teirnan took me to a very special pub out in the complete boonies of Dublin. No way in tarnation would I have found this place EVEN with directions: http://www.jfp.ie I was amazed - very welcomed feeling I got straight away. Warm. Smiling faces everywhere. Great pour of Guiness to boot. Wonderful time. Loads of antiques everywhere and room after room of different sized & shaped tables and various families of people. But I didn't feel crowded. Thanks for sharing that, T!

Our next adventure took place at Glendalough (Glen-da-lock): http://www.wicklow.com/glendalough/
http://www.bamjam.net/Ireland/Glenda.html
in Wicklow county. Beautiful country for sure. It still amazes me how mountains feel like mountains even if they're under 1,000 meters. One of the rivers ran so brown from the peat in the ground, it actually looked like Guiness - how special is that! We lucked out with hardly anyone in the park and the day never rained on us. Great hike up; quick hike down. Shamrocks grow everywhere. It's so green and lush and peaceful. The story of how it was settled and then, destoyed, is quite interesting - I prefer the story in the latest Lonely Planet, which I can't find online which references Saint Kevin and his solitude there with the animals.

Howth, another day, proved to be an interesting contrast to what I had seen thus far. Upscale residences on large parcels of property abound the hills just north up the coast of Dublin. Private helicopters, private land, just plain private, beautifully tended gardens and landscapes were everywhere. I'd liked to live here. We had a nice tea time and a few beach walks - amazing views and some great pictures. This was once Tiernan's bike maze/route - literally! Again, don't get lost in here. Roads everywhere are narrow, curved, blind & did I mention, narrow? We had tea again. Oh, and cake.

It was swell meeting almost all of Tiernan's family - very great kin you got there! Good luck to all of them with their upcoming travels and careers. Nice to see you again and hope we cross paths in the near future. Surfer - meet some snow - come out to the wild Colorado - I'll show you some real waves, dude!

Mr. T and the Liffey

So what did I really do in Ireland, you ask?

Well, the first few days I walked. And I walked and I walked - as anyone would in a big city their first few days. The streets are hard and long. Each street name changes every few blocks - directions are given by using local pubs as reference points - not kidding! Loads of cars, exhaust, fumes, sirens, people. . . felt like i was back in london except everyone wasn't as dressed up! Didn't really see much that was exciting, really - in the city, that is. I found the architecture routine compared to Edinburgh, but who wouldn't. Life got boring real fast.

Then Tiernan got back into town a few days later and the fun began. Nothing crazy, mind you - just "T" style. Monday we hooked up in the rain and jetted off to the beach nearby, relatively speaking. The Sun broke out by the time we arrived. Another visiting friend of his, myself and T all went to nearby Killiny Beach(sp?) & Dalkey and walked along this beach - it was great to me. They even pointed out Bono & Enya's houses - I thought they were full of crap but by evening time I believed them. Went back to T's for tea & dinner compliments of his youngest sister who BTW, is only 23 (?) & just graduated to become a medical doctor (again, correct me if I'm wrong - it's late!). I'll refrain from spelling her name but it sounds like Alb(v?)a. Anyway, great day. Two of his mates & him went for their weekly swim in the Sea at a spot called----, feck, I can't remember (T, please insert in a comment). Apparently, this place used to be a male nudist bathing spot but a while back the women got fed up with it and crashed their party. Now it's just a regular swimming hole. I was extremely amazed at these blokes doing laps in crazy cold water - I think they're bonkers but I admire them for it. At least their getting exercise. Nice place, actually and nice views all around. Absolutely cold though.

Next day we did the "museum" gig by visiting the National Gallery and a photography exhibit called, "Joy" - can't remember the artist but it was interesting. He snapped pics of inmates in prison life. You could almost tell the ones that knew they were getting out soon versus the "throw away the key" kind.

The gallery was cool - I'm always happy to see a Vermeer. One of the security guards was kind enough to give me, alone, my very own lecture on 4 particular paintings that had been stolen prior to their display at this gallery, was it twice, T? Anyway, the Vermeer was one of them - they got it back both times. However, there are still two missing. I wish I could recite what he said because it was really quite personal and quaint how he took the time to talk with me and tell me these mysterious stories yet, it wasn't part of his routine. Nice! Tea time followed.

More in the next post. . .