Scotland: St. Andrews and Edinburgh, or: The Land of Haggis

It only took me one subway, two airplanes, two buses, one train, and a 15 minute walk with my big ass suitcase to get into the tiny town of St Andrews where Gwen lives, but I made it!

The first night I finally met Gwen's beau Paul, a charming science nerd, and we went- where else? To the pub! It was fun to see my ole chum's stomping grounds and it was really nice to be in a country where the people speak English and where I had someone who really knew the area to be my tour guide!

Since St. Andrews is super tiny, we really only needed one day for Gwen to give me the Gran Tour.She took me to these beautiful ruins right on the beachWe also really lucked out because it actually WASN'T overcast- a rare thing in Scotland! Don't let the blue sky fool you though, we were right on the North Sea and it was FREEZING.
The ruins of the old castle on the beach. So much stuff is destroyed from the reformation, but it's still so pretty, and Scotland is really into preserving their gothic architecture.I'm so glad Gwen shares my appreciation for old cemeteries-this one was so beautiful and serene, too.Pretty English garden! Really, all there is to do in St. Andrews besides hit the pubs is wander around and marvel at its charming-ness.
To all you golf fans out there! I have graced the famous Old Course. Be jealous. I don't know why this course is so awesome, it must be hard to golf there because it's so damn windy!

There's also several local kilt suppliers, and I decided I absolutely NEED a sporran! They're the little man-pouch-purse thingies that men wear on their kilts.Cute little fox sporran! Fun Fact: They're so expensive because they're not aloud to kill the animal for use of sporran-making. Hence, why I don't own one :(
Gwen, modeling haggis pizza. Ew! We didn't eat it.

Next day, we took the train to Edinburgh! I was acutally bowled over by how beautiful Edinburgh is- there's no modern buildings or anything really to spoil the mood. Everything is so OLD. I think Gwen was telling me the 'new' part of Edinburgh was built in the 1700's. I just think it's funny how anything in San Francisco that predates the earthquake is considered old.This is the street our hostel was on-I love how it was on that crazy curve! Our first day in Edinburgh we walked down the Royal Mile in the morning and saw the castle and the palace.
The courtyard in the palace- the queen still stays here in the summer
The ruins of the abbey next to the palace
Amazingly massive and tasty jacket potatoes for lunch, yum! I'd been craving one of these since I knew I was going to Scotland!
Bagpipers! They're totally there for the tourists, and for that I was a very grateful tourist!

Then we climbed to the top of the Scot Monument, or Gothic Rocketship. Gwen told me so many of the buildings are black because of all the soot and coal that was in the air during the industrial revolution. Fun Fact!
I got kinda claustrophobic by the time we finally got to the top og the monument (something like 300 steps), but we got some amazing views!The beautiful castle
A pretty hotel viewed from the monument

The Heart of Midlothian- for some reason it's tradition to spit on it, so I had to comply! It's right in front of the amazing St. Giles CathedralAgain-So cold I had to wear pants!
And Gwen, knowing I'm obsessed with vintage clothes, took me to this amazing store she knew about. They had some awesome stuff, but like most of the vintage I found overseas-EXPENSIVE.
Then we saw this statue of this little doggie, Greyfriars Bobby. The story is so cute and sad! When the dogs' master died, the dog was so sad he stayed by his masters' grave for 14 years, until the dog himself died! Awwww. So they built this little statue for the dog.
And of course, what trip to Scotland would be complete without a trip to the coffee shop where Harry Potter was first conceived! I guess J.K. Rowling used to live above the coffee shop and would come down and write her ideas here.

Whew! Scotland was so beautiful, way prettier than I even expected it to be, and I'm glad I had an official tour guide. However, the real madness doesn't start until the next day, when we headed for Italy, with only a pathetic understanding of the language and a map to guide us, so check back now, ya hear?

Backlog Blog, or 'Backblog'- Finally!

I'm pleased to say my fear of being bored upon my return to the states was in vain- between catching up with friends and family, starting a new job, vamping up my apartment, and stuffing my face with the amazingly delicious diverse food of San Francisco, I've been busy!

I moved back into my lovely apartment in the Mission district, and the lovely Laura that I sublet my humble abode to in my absence not only managed to keep all my plants alive, but also left an awesome Brady Bunch-esque couch! Excellent.

Also, despite everyone's panic about the economy, I got a great new job at a super chic salon in Union Square. So I've been settling into the 'new job' thang, AND! Of course I've already seen Star Trek (twice. Shut up.) and on opening night my fella took me for a get pumped food-and-fun-fest at Benihana before we saw the film at the Kabuki!(I think you call them "films" if you see them at the Kabuki). Overall I approve of the flick, and enjoyed it, although I did have a few minor complaints that I won't voice in too much detail for fear of spoiling it for not AS adamant trekkies, But seriously? The Romulans did not look like Romulans. But playing devil's advocate, it's not the first time the franchise has changed the appearance of an alien species (i.e., Klingons).

But I digress! Back to my European adventures!

First we're going to go back- way back- to the last weekend in March. My last week in Madrid and the week my Mom came to visit.

On Saturday we went to the really cute little town of Segovia, only an hour bus ride outside of Madrid.
It's on of the oldest aquaducts in Europe. Fun Fact- made without a drop of mortar.
The aquaduct is right next to the old historic part of town, and you can catch glimpses of it though the narrow streets.

Also in Segovia is (of course) a beautiful cathedral!
Unfortunately the pictures I took inside came out like crap, but I loved that this was in the Gothic style, but a really pretty Mediterranean color, not that cold, drafty, Quasi Modo gray vibe, you know?

It was a beautiful warm sunny day so we enjoyed walking around looking at the cherry blossoms and other people visiting the town.

Vegetarians beware! Segovia is known for its cochinillo, or suckling pig. Once again, Thomas' theory is proven correct:The cuter, the tastier! Yes, we ate it. And it was amazing. My mom's even still had its little bitty hoof on it, but she managed to choke it down alright. Ha!

Next! We went to the castle. Fun Fact- The castle in Segovia is the one Walt Disney based the Princess castle off of in Disneyland! So cute!The inside had lots or Moorish touches that reminded me of Morocco, and we climbed the tower and got some amazing views of Segovia and the cathedral.

The next day, Sunday, was a super busy day for us! We woke up early and went to mass in Spanish-it's still really easy to follow, because you just stand and sit when everyone else does, and if you can't say all the prayers and stuff in Spanish you just use a trick my mom taught me- say "rudebegga rudebegga rudebegga" over and over again, and it looks like you are following along flawlessly, woo!

Then we sifted through the antique books and nicknacks in the Rastro (giant flea market), and in the afternoon we went . . . .dun dun dun: BULLFIGHT! Molly and Summer and two of Summer's friends that were visiting came. It's not something I would ordinarily want to check out, but you know, when in Rome. . . or Madrid, whatever.Before the bloodshed! What we didn't realize is that they kill SIX bulls, not one. It's pretty brutal.

Other Matador Fun Facts- the matadors were really young- they ranged in age from 19 to the ripe old age of 25.
Fun Fact-Bullfighting is not that lucrative, and the matador is responsible for his own costume (or is it a uniform? Whatever.) and for paying out his matador team.
Fun Fact- there are circles and markings in the ring that are highly technical and significant, and what the matador does where is very detailed and important. How? I have no idea.
It's not something I would ever do again, but I'm really glad I went. It is a big part of Spanish culture, although lots of Spaniards today don't like bullfighting. And my host mom, a big fan of bullfighting, is right- it is beautiful and like an art form, and you can tell it hasn't changed in several hundred years. And on a more vulgar note- the matadors are HOT. It's so manly, and all that glittering, butt-hugging spandex? YES.
These guys are called picadors, and they stab the bull while on horseback. One of the horse fell over at one point, it was really scary. They also blindfold the horses and plug their ears so they don't spook.Right before they kill the bull. Sometimes you think the bull will win, but it ended matadors 6, bulls 0. :(

After the bullfight my mom came home with me to meet my host family and have dinner with us. It was really funny because my mom's Spanish is pretty minimal and Carmen doesn't speak any English, so I had to do a lot of translating, but it's funny- there was a definite universal mom-bond going on!

My last week in Madrid was pretty busy what with my mom visiting and it was my last week of school and finals, and blah blah blah, AND I had to pack and say good bye to my host family, which was really hard! Now that I've been home for a month I really miss them, and Spain. I miss watching movies in Spanish with Carmen, and her cooking me dinner and telling me about Esteban's fencing, and the challenge of speaking in Spanish everyday.

But, I had to move forward! Next on the itinerary: visiting Gwen and her man Paul in Scotland!

Scotland and Rome. . . Don't Get too Excited, This is a Teaser

But hey, I can't let down my fans! Both of them would be so disappointed if I neglected the Sblog too long. . . .

Anyway, my Mom came to visit me my last week in Madrid, we went to Segovia and ate suckling pig and we went to a bullfight. It was brutal, but the matadors are pretty sexy, I won't lie.

I have officially left Spain as of March 28th. I feel like I should say it was hard to leave, but it wasn't really, because I knew it was coming. It was hard to say goodbye to my host family though, they were great.

I flew to Scotland on the 28th and met up with my friend Gwen. She's doing her masters program there, so she showed me her stomping grounds in St. Andrews and we spent a day in Edinburgh. It was so pretty in Scotland. I saw sheeps and kilts!!!!

The 31st we flew to Rome together, and we are going to spend 6 days here and then we're off to Florence and Venice. Then I'm coming home on April 13th!!!

The reason this blog is a brief outline is because I sent my laptop home with my Mom so I have no way to upload my photos and I have limited computer access. So keep faith in the Sblog because TONS of photos explaining my adventures will by posted when I return to California!

Can't Breathe Through My Nose But Still Having Fun,
Emily

Road to Marrakesh, Part II

Okay, I think I posted too many photos, so stupid Blogger is making me do this in two parts. whatever. Anyway!

We continued our way into the Atlas mountains to commence our hike. I was thinking 'How hard can it be, our guide said he was in the discoteque all night and he's still wearing his club clothes'. I was wrong. You know those rickety wooden bridges, like in Indiana Jones? I crossed about 5 of those, and we had to cross the river several other times just by hopping over rocks, but despite Mustapha's club clothes, he proved to be quite the mountain goat, and a great guide. He only had to carry me part of the way.
Just kidding!

We also saw some amazing views during our hike:
Berber villages, nestled in the mountainsThe little restaurants along the river. Note the rickety bridge!

On Monday Molly and I explored the Souks further:
Some snake charmers in the square. You're supposed to pay them for photos, but this fellow took a liking to me. I think it's because he could tell I love snakes so much. The cobras were a little much, though, they would hiss and strike when people walked by. That's a little much, even for me!These guys just ran up to us and threw monkeys on us, although we had no money. They feel just like little humans though, especially their hands, and they're so soft and furry, I want one!!!
We also bought nuts and dried fruits from this guy. Booths like this are everywhere in the square, and for some reason he insisted I be in the booth for a photo. Oh well, why fight it? All the people were so nice!This is the Berber Pharmacie we went to-it's just tons of these brightly colored unlabeled jars and the fellow explained what everything is. It smells great with all the spices, oils, soaps, dried herbs, and the colorful powders are for dyeing fabric.

Morocco totally blew me away because all the guidebooks I read and all the people warning me had me prepared for rude people, especially towards Americans and even more towards women. I was prepared to be punting men out of the way and constantly have my defenses up, but it wasn't that way at all. Moroccans are incredibly helpful, friendly, and proud of their culture, and they were especially nice to each other. We would go in shops and they would invite us to stay for tea, and they just fawned over us and made us feel very special. The worst thing that happened was some guy grabbed my arm and said "sex machine", which really just made me curious: Am I a sex machine? Is HE a sex machine? Does he HAVE a sex machine? And some men whistled and stuff, but it's nothing more than I experience everyday living in the Mission district.

And granted, we were in a very touristy area, but we saw no extreme poverty, everyone looked happy and healthy (except you would think it was a British colony, not French, because lots of people have bad teeth), and it was great to be in a country where it seems like everyone is always smiling (despite the bad teeth). Such a great break from Madrid! Everyone's so serious here. . .

Also, if you're white, Moroccans tend to automatically assume you're English, so lots of the men hollered, "Victoria and Susie! Hello, fish and chips!" which was really just funny more than anything.

There's also raw meat just hanging on hooks everywhere, with flies buzzing all around it
In the US it would violate about 800 health codes, but at least you know it's fresh!

And of course, me being the vintage freak that I am, managed to find the one antique booth in MarrakeshIt was full of vintage cameras, and God knows what else is buried under that wonderful vintage rubble.

Kamal, who worked at the hostel we were staying in, took us to the chicken market (per my request) and we got to see the entire process of chicken slaughter. Molly and I picked out a live chicken and gave him a name and a back storyAnd then we took him to the slaughter booth. The two men working in there showed me how they slit the chickens' throat to kill them, then they put them in a bucket of hot water (not exactly sure why), then the other guy cuts off the head and feet and sticks them in the de-feathering machine. Every time I got sprayed with something I told myself it was just water. It was really crazy to see a massive pile of chicken feet and heads on the floor of this booth and blood and feathers flying everywhere. I tried to explain to Kamal that Americans like to have their meat arrive in shiny, cellophane packages with no evidence that it was once a living creature, but all I got from him was a weird look.The man on the left cuts the throats, the one on the right is working the de-feathering machine. Kamal barbequed our chicken for us, it was delicious, even the heart.

We also went in a booth in the area where they make and dye all the fabric, and a fellow in there showed us the process of how they color the cloth and then he wrapped me up Muslim style:
Do I look the part?

Then he took us onto the roof and we got a great view of all the fabric drying, and of all the souks:So pretty!

So that was my trip, in a nutshell. I'm already planning my next trip to Africa, Molly said she'd come with me, and I'm going to hold her to it! I want to see more of Morocco, Algeria, and Egypt. I will return to Africa soon, enshallah! (Arabic for God willing)

My Road to Marrakesh

My dress still smells like the smoky Medina and my fingers are still stained from the spices in the tagine we feasted on, even though I have sadly returned to Madrid. Molly and I had so much fun in Marrakesh,
from the donkeys that pull carts all over the souks
to the waterfall we hiked to in the Atlas Mountains. And yes, I did it all in saddle shoes and a dress!

We arrived Saturday about 1, and it was a good thing we hired a guide to take us to our hostel, because it's a total labyrinth! When we got there, delicious Moroccan mint tea was waiting for us, yum! Even just going from the airport to the hostel, I got the immediate 'we're not in San Francisco or Madrid anymore' vibe-men and women wear long robes and all the women cover their hair, although lots of people wear western style clothes, too. Noisy motorbikes that reek like diesel are everywhere, roads, sidewalks, even driving on the shoulder, because traffic laws in Marrakesh are basically nonexistent. Every time you step into the road you are playing chicken with donkey carts, motorbikes, regular bikes, pedestrians, trucks and taxis. The beautiful Atlas mountains overlook the city:This is in a garden that's near the main square, the Jema Lefna. Molly and I ate tagine,
traditional Moroccan cuisine that is cooked in a heavy clay pot on a stove. We wandered around the Jema Lefna the first day, trying to absorb the sights, sounds, and smells of Morocco. This is why photos just don't capture this amazing place. You really have to be there to smell the donkey poo in the streets, the reek of the diesel, the spicy, smoky smell of the food being cooked in the square, the metal workers and tanneries, the sounds of the snake charmers and men enticing you to shop in their booth, the experience of nearly being run over 800 times a day. Maybe I'm not painting a very good picture, but it was fantastic, really.The busy Medina

We also went to the Balace Bahia and wandered around the beautiful gardens, and marveled at the architecture:The garden in the palace.The beautiful and intricate roof in the palace.

Also, cats are like the pigeons of Morocco, they're everywhere basking in the sun and looking for food.
Me and a Moroccan pigeon.

Our first night in the hostel was actually Nezza's (one of the girls who works in the hostel) birthday. Even though we were pooped from our plane trip and the culture shock of being in Africa, we joined the party and danced to Arabic discoteque music, taught everyone the sprinkler, and, of course, smoked tons of shesha (hookah).Smoking shisha

On Sunday me and Molly and some other people staying at the hostel got a guide named Mustapha to take us to a traditional Berber house. He showed us how they live, and how they eat
using the traditional Berber stove. Then the Berber women showed us the Moroccan tea ceremony:I hope I can recreate it! It's so good because the plate of greens on the right is all fresh mint, and the big white cone on the left is sugar. Mmmm. Then we ate a delicious Berber breakfast of fresh bread, honey, olive oil, and fresh butter before we went for our camel ride.

Riding a camel is NOT like riding a horse-it's super bumpy. And I now think camels are probably the second weirdest animal, right behind the platypus.

After camels were were supposed to drive further into the Atlas mountain to begin our hike, but there was a rockslide that consequently caused a huge traffic jam. We got out of our van to explore the situation.All the Moroccans, surveying the rockslide.

The pile up was so vast, everyone parked their cars and got out and started a drum circle and singing to pass the time while the road cleared.This is why I thought Morocco was so amazing. No one was mad or impatient, no one was yelling at each other. There were no construction workers, policemen, or ambulances. The citizens took it upon themselves to clear the road and then the men started directing traffic to clear the jam. It was excellent.