Summer of Shanley

Leaving San Francisco wasn’t easy, but knowing that I’d spend my first day away from it with my cousin Rich, Wes, and my Donut Friend John, I knew that I’d be able to handle my sadness surrounded by love and friendship. So, I snacked up, packed up and hit the road for the first stop on the Summer of Shanley. The Scaits Across the States tour had begun.

Just as I had predicted my brief time in LA was filled with love and good company.  Rich and Wes always treat me to one of their favorite local restaurants and we got to catch up on all the things.   My cousin also knows his cousin best and had a fresh batch of his famous chocolate chip cookies waiting for me when I got back to his place I’m always ready to test out his latest and greatest cookie experiments.  Getting to spend some time with a fellow donut aficionado like John not only gave me an excuse to get more than one donut (one, for now, one for the road) but also some time spent getting to know him a little better beyond our mutual love for donuts.  My last official hours in the state of California could not have been better spent. Next stop, Boulder City, Nevada to check out the Hoover Dam.

Before getting to Boulder City, I made a quick pit stop in Vegas to pick up my good friend Courtney as she was going to join me for the first portion of my road trip.  She’s a great friend to have on the road.  Not only is she a great DJ and understands my love for road snacks, but she also knows how to operate on that fine line between when to tell stories and when it’s ok to just be still and silent.  She also always has your back…I’ve got the photos to prove it!

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I had been to Nevada many times for trips to Tahoe, Reno or Vegas but I had never been to see the Hoover Dam.  I didn’t really know what to expect as to where it would be, what would be nearby and would it even be cool.  I can now tell you it’s on the Nevada Arizona line, there’s not too much around it and yes it would very much be cool to go check out.  When you arrive at the dam, there is security that you have to check in with.  I didn’t think too much of it when we pulled up, but then when they started asking me if I had guns or a dead body in my car, I remembered all my belongings packed ever so neatly but hidden under some black fabric (Thank you JoAnns fabric).  One of them asked, “Hey do you mind if I move this and do you mind opening your trunk?”  My first response was, “You’re gonna put it all, back right?”  Luckily after all that fuss, they simply peeked in and figured I wasn’t storing a dead body in all my luggage…or was I???  I’ll never tell if you don’t.  The next day as we were headed downstairs to check out, I realized I looked as if I had been staying there for a month and not a year.  I was going to have to work on this whole luggage thing as the trip continued.

From Nevada, we drove to live “Life Elevated” in Utah. Most specifically we were headed to Zion and Bryce Canyon to do some exploring.  Zion was up first. As we got closer Zion National Park, I started to feel like we were in a movie and the scene is where the two people are driving in the car and you can totally tell that the background is fake.  It was jaw-droppingly stunning, to say the least. People kept asking me if I was going to camp in any of these places along my trip.  Let’s just say while I know I could totally handle camping; I also know that I don’t really want to camp.  So, I split the difference and opted for Glamping! Our “tent” was cozy and the perfect spot to lay our heads at night after long days out on the trails.  In Zion, we spent our days hiking to points with endless views and trekking up rivers to explore the Narrows.  The water can get pretty fierce and if you’re not careful, you could get swept under (or so I’m told…he he).  While on one of our hikes, we noticed the strangest thing.  Squirrels.  I know you are thinking; Caitlin squirrels are a dime a dozen; how does that classify as strange?  Well, it would appear that everyone else hiking in Zion had never seen a squirrel. I saw multiple people trying to pet them, taking videos of them and cooing over them. Like actual cooing as if they were a cute puppy or baby. There were times that a whole crowd had gathered around the squirrel.  I will give this to them, these were no average squirrels, they have clearly been fed by the park guests and were not at all afraid to put themselves on display.  But still, super weird.  Have we been underestimating the squirrel this whole time??

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As we got ready to head to Bryce, I started to wonder if it could compare to all the amazing sites we’d just witnessed at Zion.  Upon arriving at our first vista point after getting off the shuttle from the Visitor’s Center, I had my answer.  Out of this world.  Once we started hiking down, I felt that I no longer was somewhere in the United States in the year 2019.  I was transported to another time and another world.  It simply could not be present day America.  In the Canyon, I did my best to capture its beauty, but found that pictures do not quite do it justice.  I also think some of the pictures didn’t come out that great because any time you stopped to take a photo you would get swarmed with bugs.  I think it was their “kind” way of telling you” keep it movin’ sister and just enjoy the moment. ”

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On a completely off topic subject from hiking, exploring and the views, I would like to say that this is the first time I’ve truly experienced the phenomenon of “dry heat” and I am a fan.  I don’t know about you, but growing up if I had a dime for every time, I heard the phrase, “It’s not the heat, it’s the humidity” I’d be one well to do lady.  Most days it’s been sunny and well into the 90’s, sometimes the 100’s and yet I don’t feel as if I need to take a shower five seconds after walking outside.  And can we just have a moment of silence for all the frizzy haired folk like myself.  Can a bad hair day even be possible in Utah?  My guess is no. I know I can’t stay here forever, but I will be running my fingers through my silky hair a few more times than normal before I go.

This leaves us off at the fourth leg of the trip.  Legs five and six will be taking us to Arizona to visit many more of the sites this country has to offer. Stay tuned! Also, Go USA Women’s Soccer!!! XOXO , Caitlin

It feels a little bittersweet to kick off the beginning of the Summer of Shanley adventures with the end of one of my biggest life adventures. I know to some, it may feel like I’ve been talking about leaving San Francisco a lot these last few weeks and maybe you are thinking would I just get on with it, but to me, I’m not quite sure I could ever say enough to thank San Francisco or California in general for my time here and how much I grew as an individual. Most of you know that I’m big into thank you letters or notes. So here goes…

Dear San Francisco,

I’m not sure if you remember the young girl who showed up on your doorstep almost 15 years ago with a dream to try on something new, but really only imagined she’d stay for a year or two at the most. She wasn’t sure if she’d make friends outside of her cousin and his friends who already lived there, she wasn’t sure if she’d find something to call her own and she wasn’t sure she could stand being so far from her family. To say the least she was a bit unsure of everything…even herself. 

Thanks to you and all the faces and places you brought into her life; I can tell you she’s leaving much more sure of herself and even totally ok with the parts she still isn’t sure about. I know this to be true because that girl was me. 

I could thank you endlessly for your beauty and how being in your space made me love and appreciate nature so much more. Don’t even get me started on that bridge of yours.  I must have taken hundreds of thousands of pictures of it, but yet, every time, it was like I was seeing it for the first time.  It never lost its ability to light a spark in my heart. Can I also say you did one hell of a job in the friends department?  I wish I could go back and whisper in that young girl’s ear and say, “Don’t worry, you will find your people.  They will understand you, believe that you are just the right amount of crazy and they will love you as if you were their own.” You not only helped me find something to call my own, but you figured out ways that I could share it with others too. Whoever thought the girl who had asked the Gym teacher in High School if she could take the attendance so she didn’t have to run the warm-up laps would later say to a group of her running friends, “Remember that time we ran a 50k”. And no, that wasn’t a typo…5-0 K or 31.1 miles for anyone not adept at counting the Ks. Truth be told, the current me is probably more team take attendance than team run the 50k, but there was a time and it was sensational.  I have to give credit to my parents for instilling in me the want to give back to others in life, however, you gave me the avenues in my adulthood to do such things. Whether it was sponsoring a student in the Tenderloin or volunteering for KEEN SF you filled in any empty spaces in my heart with the joy of giving. Now not everything was sunshine and roses during my somewhat extended stay with you. But somehow, you found a way to teach me or show me that in the end, it was all going to be ok. Remember that time when my heart was ripped into what felt like a million pieces and over time you figured out a way for it to mend and maybe just maybe if someone is lucky enough, to love again. That was quite the magic you did there. I didn’t think I was ever going to come back from that one.

In closing, thank you for sharing your space, your people and your magic with me. I will never stop loving you and even if the prices go as high as yours, you will always rent space in my head and more importantly my heart. Now please go and find someone else in need of your soul-filling ways, so I can move on knowing you were needed somewhere else and it was my time to go.

                                                                        Forever and Always,

                                                           Your favorite Speech Geek, Caitlin O’Brien Shanley

So there it is, my brief, but heartfelt thank you to the City by the Bay. For now, the feelings are very big and I’m doing my best to process them and also get my mind ready for the adventures yet to come, not only this summer, but also for whatever the future holds for me back home.

Without further adieu, let the Summer of Shanley begin! I will be taking my memories and hitting the open road zig-zagging across the states to see what this beautiful country has to offer. After a quick stop in LA to spend some QT with my cousin, it’s off to Boulder City and the Hoover Dam…stay tuned!

 

I wish I had the right words for how my heart feels after spending the week at Camp Shout Out. I know that there is no way that I could put it quite as eloquently as the campers did throughout the week, but it’d be a shame to have the experience I had and not share it with you.

For seven days out of the year, the campers who come to Camp Shout Out are set free. Free from wondering if someone is judging their speech and in turn judging them, free from feeling like they are the only ones that have to explain themselves when people should just be a little more accepting without the explanation, free from wondering how long it will be until someone cuts them off or finishes their sentence, free to just be the amazing humans they are without the weight of their stutter. And also free from all the distractions that access to wifi brings too.  With the exception of very few people, everyone at camp stutters and the campers shared that this is a place that there’s just an understanding that all of the good things in life will come their way this week; the trust, the support, the friendships and love.  

 

Before Camp, I had been up north in Michigan and it’s always hard for me to leave Harbor Springs and my “framily” there. But after picking up two other trainees at the airport (one I knew and one I didn’t) I quickly started realizing I was going to be adding to my Michigan family.   Before the campers arrived, the other trainees and I were given our bunks, general camp knowledge, quite a few hours of guided educational practices and the sweet promise of “just wait ‘til the campers get here”, “You will see it, the magic”.

 

 

 

 

I can honestly say that it didn’t take long until I not only saw the magic but felt it too. I’d watch as kids ran screaming to embrace their friends, as a parent of another camper telling a camper that “they were an inspiration” and as the once-quiet campground turned into a beautiful musical of kids talking, playing and singing. At first, I felt a little like an outsider, but soon enough we were all teammates playing a gloriously messy game of shaving cream Capture the Flag. I’ve never been to camp and wasn’t quite sure if this is a camp thing to mix these two things or if this was exclusive to Camp Shout Out. Nevertheless, nothing seems to break the ice better than running around dousing each other with shaving cream and then everyone jumping in the lake after in their clothes.

 

I quickly got hip to the Camp Life scene. I was going to be singing repeat after me songs. I’d be trying to be the table that “made the best octagon” to get dismissed from a meal. My ankles would soon have more bug bites than freckles. I’d get excited for days that had “rest hour” (that was really only like 45 minutes.) I’d learn that a 4 o’clock snack every day is a game changer (especially when it’s cookies). I’d be fully on board with the fact that a jump in the lake at night was the equivalent of a shower. And I’d realize that sleeping in the same small space with four other sensational SLPs would lead me to some very fast friendships.

I had the honor of working with a group of tremendous high school students (who camp refer to as LITs or Leaders in Training), 6 other SLPs, two dedicated facilitators, one out of this world LIT leader and 1 amazing role model of an LIT counselor.  I was definitely aware that this was a privilege and getting to know this group has forever changed me for the better. When you work in an elementary school, your opportunities to work with and learn from young adults are almost non-existent. I was both excited and a little nervous at the same time. What if I wasn’t a good fit? Each day we’d learn a little bit more about each other whether it was through creative skits the campers put together on their own, stories shared while hitched up together down a lazy river, or just some quiet chats in moments of transition. I learned to put my trust in our team by doing many team-building activities. One that I’m particularly proud of is the trust fall off the table! Every moment of every day I witnessed these campers put their brave in front whether it was speaking in front of a larger group, advocating for themselves when it was not easy or absolutely crushing their performance at the talent show, they “just did it”. These teenagers were setting examples for the younger campers and quite honestly for the adults too. I told the campers that I worked directly with that if my 15 and 17-year-old self could have witnessed their bravery and learned by their examples I would have been a lot better off at that time in my life. They led with a quiet confidence, shared their journeys and smiles and just were all around rock stars! My time with them specifically will forever rent space in my heart

 

One thing I started noticing (and loving) was that you never heard another child put down another child. Not only do they not put each other down, they are constantly lifting each other up. In every speaking situation or risk-taking moment for both campers and adults alike you are cheered on and encouraged with words like “That’s my cabin mate.”, “You’ve got this.” and “we’ve got your back.”  It was so refreshing and humbling to see children from the ages 8 to 18 acting with more grace than a lot of adults do these days. It will serve the world a solid to take a lesson from the kids at Camp Shout Out.

 

A shared value of Camp is Holding Space and where every word is heard. It doesn’t matter how long it takes you to say what you want to say or how you say it, everyone waits because what you have to say is important. If you’ve known me at all, you know that I am a talker and sometimes think that if no one else is going to answer I should probably say something to break the silence. While I’ve always considered myself a patient person when it comes to my students, CSO also taught me that the adults in my life deserve that same respect and sometimes sitting in silence can have more impact than any comment I was going to make. So on that note…

There’s so much more I could share, but selfishly for just a little bit longer, I want to keep some memories for my heart only and besides most of the stories that happen at Camp are not mine to share.  My path is forever entwined with so many thoughtful minds and hearts and I am excited to see what happens to the seeds that have been planted.

Portugal, I came for your beaches and sunsets, but when faced with typical San Francisco summer weather, I’m leaving with some deep knowledge in castles, 19th century romanticism, a new found flower obsession and a very full belly.

 

We started our adventures in Portugal in it’s capital. In Lisbon, we visited the Castelo De San Jorge. After climbing to the top, I took a peak over into the city only to be met with what could have been a view from my own front yard. Lisbon’s Pointe 25 de Abril Bridge could be the Golden Gate’s younger sister! (If you’re wondering I refer to the GGB as a she too) Oddly enough, it was built by the same company that built the Bay Area’s Bay Bridge that connects San Francisco to the East Bay. When I was running, I saw it from a slightly different angle and could also see Bay Bridge similarities. Lisbon had some cool street art, which I would soon find out was all over Portugal. Their tram/trolley was bumpy and jam-packed with touristas like me. Sadly we witnessed a woman who was hit on the tracks and while I don’t know the outcome it was pretty amazing to see everyone jump into action. Civilians immediately put on their safety vests, put out their hazard triangles and started directing traffic so that when the professional help arrive all would be clear. It was nice to see strangers helping strangers and I sure do hope she was ok. While we were only in Lisbon for one night, we happened to be staying in the most hip neighborhood. It’s where all the party people go. You’ll find random parades through the streets at 11 o’clock at night and staying out in the streets until 5AM. I’m glad they didn’t check my party card before I entered because they would have realized my idea of an exciting night ends with me in bed before I turn into a pumpkin. I’m totally ok with being unhip but I do applaud you residents of Bairro Alto!

 

For the next part of our journey we rented a car and were going to try out our best attempt at driving in another foreign country. And while I don’t think anything could rival driving in Greece, I’m always a little tentative to take to roads and signs that I don’t know. Turns out the actual driving wasn’t the hard part. The hard part was finding a radio station to listen to and find some tunes we understood. We finally found one of the most diverse stations I’ve ever heard. One minute you were listening to the pop music of Shawn Mendes and Post Malone and the next you were listening to Annie Lennox followed by the Portuguese version of “Rapper’s Delight”. I mean I do love to hip hop hippity hop with the best of them, but I think the best song came right when I was getting a little tired from all the driving. If you haven’t busted out Karen Carpenter’s “On Top of the World” while driving, have you even lived?

 

The first stop of our Portugal road trip was the little town of Sintra. Sintra is home to castles, palaces, lush gardens and oddly really amazing Kebabs.    I attempted to get a run in in each town I visited on this trip and my attempt in Sintra was cut short, as there were not many safe sidewalks. After running along train tracks that I wasn’t really sure were still in use or not, I gave up. I did happen upon a hockey rink. I didn’t realize hockey was a thing in Portugal. We took a quick trip to Cascais in search of the notorious Cabo de Roca lighthouse and the beauty of it all at sunset. We may have come for the sunset, but Mother Nature had other plans for us. So we took a few pictures and quickly jumped back in the car for some shelter from the wind and dropping temps.  

 

Since any plans of a beach day were out of the question, we decided to hit up some other towns on our way up to Porto. Óbidos is a town completely encapsulated by a wall with strong ties to medieval times. Much to Sara’s disappointment we were missing the medieval fair by a mere two days! Here they are known for their cherry Ginja. While I didn’t try it, my source tells me that it can be likened to a sour cherry liqueur. It’s served in a cup made of chocolate and costs exactly 1 Euro. We overheard a gentleman say that he was stopping at each stand along the path leading to the castle to sample each one. Pretty sure he shouldn’t have been climbing any castle walls that day. I probably shouldn’t either, as I wasn’t dressed for climbing. I never let a dress stop me from trying to keep up with the boys when I was younger, so I wasn’t going to let a little skirt get in my way. Sara D likes to fully research places before deciding if we should go and she shared that the next town we were headed to was dubbed “The Venice of Portugal.” Just like the Ginja, I can’t really pass judgment without having gone to Venice, but one has to wonder how much poetic license they took on that article. 

 

Just a few more hours in the car after leaving Aveiro (Venice of Portugal) and we reached Porto. We arrived in Porto around dinnertime or a compromised dinnertime of 8:30pm. My research assistant was quick to find us a few restaurants and I picked the one with the cool photos and also happened to be a four-minute walk from our hotel. At first, we weren’t sure if they were open as there didn’t seem to be anyone in the place. But we were greeted by the most gracious host which we’d find out later was the owner and chef as well. She showed us the menu and pretty much had me convinced after translating the first few item menus (Meat, Cheese, Olives, more Meat). Upon deciding to stay we were ushered upstairs. Here is where all the people would be…nope not a soul. Could everyone be watching the World Cup? Did this place recently have an outbreak of salmonella that we didn’t hear about? Don’t worry it’s just that they were a new restaurant and the word is not out yet. The word should be out. It was definitely one of the best meals we had on this trip. The best part, the waitressed asked us if we just wanted her to choose for us. Not having to make a choice over so many fantastic options was reason enough for a good rating on trip advisor. Which reminds me I still have to write one. I am really rooting for Patio Do Duque to make it.

Over the next 24hrs we explored all of Porto’s sites. I went for a run along the Douro River in the morning. It was the perfect weather for a run. Low sixties with a touch of mist. The kind of mist that covers your body and you can’t really tell where the mist ends and the sweat begins. For a sweat hog like myself this is always a plus. One of the travel tips given to us by Monica from the restaurant was to visit the Lello Livaria. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I find a lot of joy in bookstores.   I went to one in Germany and in Spain and while I knew I would not understand many of the titles there, I loved checking what children’s books they had and which ones we didn’t have that they did. So back to the one in Portugal. If my love for books wasn’t enough, this particular bookstore is something you’d only read about (ironic isn’t it) . If you can get past the amount of people in the store hoping to grab that perfect shot of the famous red staircase and imagine for a minute what it would look like if you were the only one in the place, you’d feel it. Books lines the walls from floor to ceiling, tracks in the floor from the old book cart and yes the staircase. Local legend has it that this bookstore was one of the places that inspired J.K. Rowling to write Harry Potter!   Next stop on our whirlwind, get to know Porto in 24hrs journey was to the Dom Louis Bridge. Ok before I say anything about this, please know that I know I’m going to sound like a snooty B, but I think I’m spoiled with the Golden Gate and Bay Bridge because if I’m being honest, I was a little underwhelmed. Truth be told I was also a little hungry so I could have just been having a hangry moment (they happened more than I’d care to admit on this trip). We found a cute café along the Douro and decided we were going to try some more of the local cuisine. We kept seeing this thing called francesinha. It looks a little like a piece of lasagna, but what it is is a meat on meat sandwich, with melted cheese over it and sometimes a fried egg on top set atop of plate of fries. When you think it about, it sounds divine but it will not be something I miss when I return to the states. The Chorizo on the other hand, well damn I’m not sure what it is they do, but it’s perfect. Super fun that they legit grill it right at your table.

 

That afternoon we started our journey back south towards Lisbon. We stopped at the religious town of Fatima. There is a story that goes along with how this town became a site where over 60,000 people would flock. The short version is that in 1917, three young children saw an apparition of Mary. Upon being told to come back each month and she would show up, they did and supposedly she did. It is said that Mary predicted three secrets. One of which was the falling of the Berlin Wall. Sara D thought it would be interesting to check out one of their services or vigils. I would classify myself as religious (sometimes religish). I truly believe there is a God. I do not believe that my God is the only God, but am totally willing to share my God if someone’s is not working out for them. It was a beautiful vigil and I’m glad we went. Our hotel was legitimately 37 dollars (including breakfast). I’m pretty sure the ladies running it are like nuns IRL. I did have a chance to light some candles for my family and pray for some others. I found myself praying for the people with hate in their heart the most. It’s them I worry about and hope my prayers will be answered.

 

 

If you are actually still reading this very long post, let me start this last paragraph off with an apology. Let me also say hi Mom, hi dad (most likely the only ones who kept reading) I know in the other countries I broke the posts up by town, but with all the traveling I didn’t have much time to sit down and write. Ok so now that that’s out of the way, we can wrap it up.

 

Last stop back to Lisbon. The airport in Lisbon is not the easiest to navigate nor is it set up logistically. I’d like to quote the young chap from England standing behind me in line, “This is quite possibly the most inefficient queue I’ve ever been in.” If it wouldn’t have been weird, I totally wanted to high five him. For this flight we needed to go through both security and passport control. It was here that I witnessed some of the most obnoxious adults who either don’t a) know how to wait in line or b) plan ahead to make your flight on time. There was shouting, there was more yelling, and there was even some cursing. I myself was raised by Paul Shanley and know that you get to the airport 45 hours before your flight or you will be late, so I just sat back, popped open my can of Pringles and watched the show. If I’m being honest the line was ridiculously long and when we finally did make it up to the window I told a small fib. The Customs agent asked if Sara D (last name Davidson) had a Harley. I proceeded to let him know that that was actually her family, which she adamantly denied to which I just went with my fib at this point and just said, “She doesn’t like to brag.” He smiles and waved us on through to the other side. One last funny was when we checked in, the gate agent asked if we were ok with our emergency exits. We both said yes and she said well I wasn’t sure if you were pregnant or anything. Or Anything? I’m not sure what the or anything would entail, but I’d sure like to find out one day.

 

In a few hours or maybe even one hour, I try not to count too much on these long flights; I will be touching down on American soil and the European leg of the Catch Flights not Feelings tour will be over. I did catch one feeling while I was away and that was Suadade. In Portuguese culture it is a deep emotional state of melancholic longing for a person or thing that is absent. I will miss my adventures, but I’m looking forward to my time with my family, playing golf with friends (hopefully winning a round this summer), not having a side of smoke with my dinner and seeing where the rest of the Summer of Shanley takes me. Stay tuned!

 

Vale!!!!

If I’m being completely honest, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect in Madrid. One friend couldn’t say enough great things about it, but most said, “It was just another city.” If you’ve been following along through pictures or posts on social media, I’m pretty sure you know where I stand on the matter now. Madrid I love you, don’t change a thing!

We stayed in the perfect spot to explore Madrid on foot. We did over 80,000 steps in the three days there and this time Sara D. has the blisters to prove it. I got hip to the walking scene real fast and have stayed in my Chuck’s pretty much every day.

 

In our initial explorations of the neighborhood, we kept coming across Pride flags or symbols. As our luck would have it, we found ourselves right in the middle of Madrid Pride week. It isn’t just a day or a single parade for the people of Madrid, but 10 days of celebrations.

And the best part was that almost every store, business or home showed their support. Even the KFC had a rocking rainbow balloon arch at it’s entry way. The word for pride is orgullo and it was great to see how much orgullo this city has for everyone!

 

For the last three years I’ve been out of the country on July 4^th, but somehow, some way a little piece of back home finds me. Three years ago when I was in South Africa, I was live streaming a hockey game and sat in silence as they played the national anthem and this year in Madrid as I walked around on July 4^th I kept hearing different versions of the song, “My Way” by Frank Sinatra. As a little girl, my dance team and I would perform at Glendale Park as a part of the 4^th of July celebrations and the ever so special Emcee would sing, “My Way.”   He also happened to be the dad/grandpa of my faux aunt and cousins, so I felt very much at home hearing the song.

 

Word on the street in Madrid is that Churros con Chocolate for breakfast is a thing. I can also verify that it is a thing in the afternoon and the evening!! I was given the tip to EAT. EVERYTHING when in Madrid and I’m pretty sure I got close! The Mercado de San Miguel has the Mist, the meat and so much more. Walking through the market I kept getting dripped on until realizing they spray a mist down on everyone to keep them cool while inside. At first this was annoying but as my time went on, I sought out the places with the mist.   In our attempts to seek out a real sit down meal we headed to Juana La Loca, named after King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella’s second daughter Joana the Mad. We arrived around 11pm, the “proper” dinnertime in Europe, but were told we probably wouldn’t be seated until 12am. Europe I love you, but this late night/early morning dinner thing is hard to get used to. Even though we didn’t get to eat there that night, I did have a run in with the Israeli Pop Star, Netta Barzilai, so it wasn’t a total loss. 

The next day I went for a quick (in distance, not time) run to Retiro Park. Its green and shaded pathways made for a fantastic four miles. Of course, I ended with a Starbucks. Spain really had a good time with my name. It wasn’t until the last day that they finally just asked me to write my own name on the cup did I realize that maybe I just need to speak a little clearer.

We visited the Imperial City of Toledo. Toledo is also known as the City of the Three Cultures. Throughout history the three religions of Christians, Muslims and Jews lived in harmony. One of the staples of Toledo is their Marzipan. I don’t think I’d go there for that, but the views sure were something else. 

That night we had to catch the train back to Madrid by 9:30 but figured we could eat an early dinner around 7:30. We had to search high and low to find a restaurant that opened for dinner before 8:00 or 9:00 and even then when we did, we were the only ones in the place. Not even my own namesake would let us in.

 

Another tradition that seems to be occurring when I travel is meeting up with my friend Angie. As I mentioned before she was one of my first speech geek pals in SF and while we stay in touch and see each other throughout the year, we’ve now managed to be in the same place on our vacations completely unplanned for the last two years.

As the temperatures were rising in Madrid, we headed to the rooftops where it would only be hotter…if it weren’t for the mist of course.

 

From Madrid we were headed to Lisbon Portugal. To ride in a sleeper train was on Sara’s travel bucket list so we chose to do the overnight train to get to Portugal. In our almost 20 years of friendship, I am not sure if I’ve ever seen her happier. I was definitely not as jazzed as her but initially, it all felt pretty cool. Of course, when she leans over and says, “You know there’s a lot of murder shows about getting killed on a sleeper train”, I had my reservations.

I mean what shows was she watching to get this “information.” In San Francisco, there is a mattress place called Sleep Train and their jingle goes, “Sleep Train, a ticket to a better night sleep”. This Sleep Train was its evil twin brother and while I don’t think Siestas are quite a thing here in Portugal, I’m going to need one.

 

If you ever have the chance to get to Madrid, run don’t walk…well actually walk, the cobblestones will get ya.

 

 

As I leave the coast and head to the capital city of Madrid, I’m reminiscing about the last few days in Barcelona and Sitges. When I landed at the airport, I was greeted with a familiar face. Sara D, my best friend from college and one of my travel companions from last year’s “Yes I have Baggage” tour was joining me for the last few legs of my European adventures. I greeted her with a hug, smile and of course a pretzel! Heading into the Spain portion of this trip, I was excited to practice my Spanish.   With anything you haven’t used in years, it gets a little rusty. In my mind, I was going to be conversing with the locals. In reality, we learned that I can tell a taxi driver where to go, order in a restaurant, inquire if the beach chairs are open, say excuse me when running past someone on the street and of course the most important order two glasses of Cava from Can Panxiote!   Thankfully my receptive skills are a little more advanced than that…a little. I realized on the train I could understand a conversation that a young boy and his dad were having, so my Spanish is about at a level of a Kindergartner.   I’m sure Señora Martinelli is rolling her eyes as we speak.

 

Some of the most famous attractions in Barcelona are Antoni Gaudí’s architectural masterpieces. While traces of his work can be found all over Barcelona, the two I spent the most time admiring were his Park Güell and La Sagrada Familia. One morning I got up early to get a run in before the temperatures rose and I happened to stumble upon a hill worthy of comparison to a hill in San Francisco. This hill was so steep; running right through the middle of it was an escalator. If you’re wondering, I took the stairs (still trying to work off all those pretzels from Germany). I had all intentions of running through the park by my hotel, but it didn’t open up until 10AM. So, I went in another direction and found myself at Park Güell before it officially opened for the day. Since the outskirts of the park itself are open to the public, I was able to take my own private tour before it was crawling with all the other tourists. If you’re an early riser and you find yourself wanting to go, I’d highly recommend taking advantage of this.

La Sagrada Familia is a church unlike any church I’ve ever seen. It was originally commissioned in 1882 and it’s not predicted to be complete until 2026, which happens to be the 100^th anniversary of the architect Antoni Gaudí, who took over the design in 1883. In telling folks I was headed to Barcelona, they all mentioned this and that I had to check it out. It’s exterior is truly something else. And while I can’t say it was particularly my taste, I had to appreciate its ornate grandeur. When I walked through the doors, I was enveloped in a warm rainbow shining through from the gorgeous stain glassed windows. It was here, at this moment where I felt most at peace and found the understated and “simple” structures to be the true beauty of this church. I opted for an audio guide and as the tour was finishing the recording shared that one of Gaudí’s dreams for La Sagrada Familia was the true message of the Christian faith, to build a place that all felt welcome, regardless of where you came from. Now that is some Christian Faith I can get behind.

 

Upon arriving in the small coastal town of Sitges, I immediately felt myself take a slow exhale. I’ve begun to notice a pattern, that while I appreciate and thoroughly enjoy visiting the bigger cities, I am happiest in the smaller, simpler towns. Does this mean I’m not really a city girl? Is it just because I live in a city and long for the contrast when traveling? One can only guess. As if the deep breath wasn’t a big enough sign, when we popped into La Supermercat to pick up some snacks, Bruno Mars’ ”Chunky” was playing! If you don’t know it, this is my added bonus tip for you, get to know it! While spending the day at the beach, I was reminded of one of my favorite parts of Greece. Like in Greece, women here in Sitges seemed to have the most remarkable sense of body positivity no matter what shape or form their body came in. What great role models for the younger generation to love the skin you’re in. I managed to also get into the Spanish tradition of Siesta while on the beach. Naps are good, but beach naps are even better!

 

 

I’m probably going to get a lot of flack for saying this, but I do not quite understand the emphasis on the food in Barcelona. It’s possible that we’ve just struck out at every location we picked, but I am not feeling you food wise Barcelona. Have you ever had a Microwaved Bikini…pretty sure I did and it reminded me of the illegal sandwich makers we had in our dorms in college. I did by accident happen upon some Jamón Chips and while weird, oddly not too bad. We are hoping with the recommendations from my friend Michael, that Spain will redeem itself in Madrid!

On our last night, we found the famous Can Panxiote Cava Bar tucked away in an alley. At this little hole in the wall, you are required to order food with your drink. Each glass of Cava is only 1Euro 30, so I think the food discourages the folks visiting from getting too too tipsy. For the price of two glasses of wine in SF, we managed to have 4 rounds and 3 tapas plates. In this bar, it’s pretty much a requirement that you make friends with your neighbors, as it is standing room only. We happened to be standing next to some gentlemen from Munich and I was able to wow them (huge exaggeration) with my German;) When I asked them for a recommendation of what tapas to order with our next round they told me, “Well it’s not very ladylike but the chorizo was really good.” I wasn’t aware that chorizo was gender specific so I had to inquire as to why. He told me it was very fatty. UGH, Nice talking to you gents, but we have to be moving on:/ We ended our night at an outdoor café watching the end of the England vs. Colombia match and feeling very European as everyone began to crowd around the TVs from the outside waiting to see who would pull off the win!

Going to enjoy some of the Spanish agriculture from the train window! See you in Madrid! Happy 4^th of July!!!

 

 

Dear Germany,

Danke Schoen. Thank you for all the joy and pain. And when I say pain it’s mostly just the blisters that I feel. I know they will make me remember how walking over 40 miles in the last four days (including one poorly thought out hike up a mountain in sandals) led me to new adventures, explorations and some well needed time by myself. I think I will continue to have some pain tomorrow when I wake up and there are no pretzels waiting for me in my hotel lobby…it’s pretty much been a carb on carb crime scene every morning. But enough about the pain, let’s talk about the joy!

I was lucky that during my last two days in Germany I got to see both more of the hidden gems of Munich, but also the beautiful countryside of Southern Bavaria. Hidden inside Munich’s English Garden, I found surfers queuing up to catch the waves that occur from all the rivers converging at one spot. I was fascinated by not only the sheer amazingness of nature, but also the boldness of these surfers. With every sharp turn, I envisioned one of them knocking their heads on the riverbank. Thankfully my awe of them was not sullied by this happening. Later, when I was exploring more of the shops in Munich, I came to the noticing that German businessmen on their lunch hour all seemed to be wearing the same thing. I have not seen the dress blue suit, white oxford and no tie ever done quite this well. While visiting one of the dress shops, I learned all about the dirndl and how much you can learn about someone just by where their bow is tied. Left- single and ready to mingle, Right-taken, look but don’t touch, Middle- Like Mary herself, and when tied in back you’re a widow…or a waitress so tread lightly on that one I guess.

 

My last full day in Germany, I had the opportunity to travel south to the towns of Schwangau, Oberammergau and Ettal. Two of these towns led me to castles you could only imagine in fairy tales, or Disney’s Sleeping Beauty and the other to quaint and quiet homes with fairy tales painted on them. The day started with a vigorous and ill shoe equipped hike up to King Ludwig II’s Neuschwanstein Castle. He began building his dream castle in 1868 and to this day some 150 years later it is still not complete. In Oberammergau, I didn’t just see charming homes nestled in the Alps, but I also learned about a 380 year-old tradition of the Passion Play put on by this small town’s 5,000 inhabitants. The play was first performed in 1634 after the towns people made a pact or a promise with god that if they were spared further from the bubonic plague (brought to their town by some unsuspecting traveler at Christmas time) they would perform the Passion Play every ten years. Legend has it, that after that vow no more plague and the play has continued since. My last stop was at the first of King Ludwig’s creations, Schloss Linderhof.   This was the only castle that King Ludwig got to see completed before his untimely death at the age of 40.   My one regret from my trip was that I didn’t stay a few nights in Southern Bavaria to soak in some of the culture and charm.

 

In wrapping up I have some questions or I guess observations from my trip.

 

• What is the deal with Germans and Phil Collins? I mean I heard that David Hasselhoff was big here, but everywhere I went was playing Phil
• Are the DHL uniforms coincidently German colors or is that intentional?
• Do people ever really figure out where they are going in the Englisher Garten?
• And what in the world do you put in your pretzels to make them so GD good?

I started with a thank you and will end with the same, Danke Schoen.  I’ve always dreamed I’d come to Germany and even if it wasn’t in the fairy tale fashion I had dreamt of, I’m am so glad I finally made it.