Another 4 day weekend later, we are relatively well-rested for our exams upcoming this week. We are getting quite used to the holiday schedule here, and are considering writing a formal request to the U.S. government to take a page out of Spain's book and add a handful of national holidays- 4 day weekends are infinitely more pleasant. Perhaps we will all seek employment in España after our graduation (knock on wood).
But don't fret- amongst our relaxation, we managed to find a little time to enjoy ourselves. Earlier in the week, we were notified that the current number 1 DJ in the world, Armin van Buuren, would be performing at a venue just half an hour outside of Barcelona on Friday night. The opportunity was too good to pass up. We timed the journey perfectly and arrived just in time to catch all of Armin's set, which, in true Euro fashion, began at the reasonable hour of 2 am. It was the first foray into the world of trance music for most of us, and it more than exceeded expectations.
Saturday night was just as good- Gabe's father very nicely treated us to excellent seats at the highly-contested Barcelona-Valencia match. At least, it was supposed to be highly contested, given Valencia's undefeated record in away games. Barcelona dispatched them with relative ease, though- the final score was 4-0.
We also balanced our revelry with some cultural explorations. One of these was a visit to La Pedrera, another Gaudi-designed building. The highlight of the structure was the roof, which had some neat sculptures that were clearly nature-inspired, as is typical from Gaudi, not to mention the great views of the city and La Sagrada Familia.
Christmas shopping was also a common goal for all of us this past weekend. Fortunately, we live in the perfect area to do just that. A large square very close to us, conveniently, also undergoes an annual transformation into a big outdoor christmas-themed boutique, which offered great opportunities for gift shopping.
It was there that we also got to witness one of the odder Catalan Christmas traditions- that of the Caga Tió. Little children would line up near the stage in the front of the square, which contained on it a large log with a face painted or glued onto its front. When it was their turn, the kids, about 10 at a time, would get on the stage, grab a stick, and smack the humanized log with their stick while singing a song (in Catalan, and thus incomprehensible.) It was only later we learned that what the children are requesting from the log, literally, is that it "poop" out presents for them. I realize this sounds ridiculous, so I cordially invite you to do a little research yourself if you are harboring any doubts.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caga_ti%C3%B3
Anyway, with about a week left and several exams looming, I will do my best to include one more entry, but no promises. If not, this has been an absolutely incredible trip, and I hope these tales from our adventures have kept our readers at least mildly entertained. We look forward to returning to the States soon and seeing all our family and friends. Ciao, amigos!
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Square Pie Tins
As the semester winds down, we are attempting to fit in everything we have wanted to do since we got here, which in turn leaves little time for writing about said activities, unfortunately.
But, we press on. Last weekend, Amsterdam was incredible. It was great to catch up with Stanford friends from all around the continent. We got stuck many a time in the rain, snow and even hail that poured down all weekend, but we made the best of it and toughed it out.
Despite what some may say about Amsterdam, we found it to be a very culturally enlightening city. Weekend highlights included a trip to the Van Gogh museum (alas, after searching all exhibits, the infamous ear was nowhere to be found), as well as a boat tour through the canals, which was the perfect way to tour the city. The food was also exquisite, and provided welcome respites from the freezing temperatures outside. The lowlights, of course, were the Saturday night regular updates of Big Game from family back home. Our condolences to the fellow students who had to witness the drubbing in person. There's always next year.
Upon our arrival back in Barcelona, preparations immediately began for what was to be an unbelievable Thanksgiving dinner. Initial attempts at finding traditional Thanksgiving foods were thwarted, but we persevered. On wednesday we cooked our first of two turkeys, surprisingly available at the huge market on Las Ramblas. The cranberry jelly and pie crust came from an English food store called, appropriately, "A taste of home".
And what we couldn't buy, we cooked. Bobby, not to be defeated by a lack of pumpkin filling, went out and bought several pumpkins, mashed them up, and served up 2 delicious pumpkin pies from scratch. Will's stuffing was also made from scratch, and he also contributed a superb pecan pie. Gabe, not to be outdone, spearheaded the apple pie project. I made a lame attempt at a Lindsay family traditional dish, creamed onions. They were not very well received, (admittedly, for good reason), but cut me some slack, I'm still learning.
Other friends from our program brought over their own delicacies, and all in all, it was an incredible feast, especially for most of our first attempts at a legitimate Thanksgiving dinner. It was definitely a learning experience for all of us, and being with other American friends was the perfect way to celebrate it, despite being many miles away from our native soil. We even managed to stream a little football from the internet.
Friday was mainly lost to cleaning both our apartment and the dishes from the festivities, but we made up for it by going on some neat excursions both Saturday and Sunday. Saturday we ventured to a different University in Barcelona to see a cool exhibit on the best press photos of the year 2008 from all around the world. Sunday a few of us journeyed north to the town of Figueres, the home of the Salvador Dali museum. I think all of us are still trying to comprehend the paintings and exhibits that we saw, but they were certainly very interesting and entertaining.
We only have a few weekends left, and we're still not sure if we're going to venture out of the city before our departures. Either way, we're trying to make the most of the rest of our time in Spain. Ciao for now.
But, we press on. Last weekend, Amsterdam was incredible. It was great to catch up with Stanford friends from all around the continent. We got stuck many a time in the rain, snow and even hail that poured down all weekend, but we made the best of it and toughed it out.
Despite what some may say about Amsterdam, we found it to be a very culturally enlightening city. Weekend highlights included a trip to the Van Gogh museum (alas, after searching all exhibits, the infamous ear was nowhere to be found), as well as a boat tour through the canals, which was the perfect way to tour the city. The food was also exquisite, and provided welcome respites from the freezing temperatures outside. The lowlights, of course, were the Saturday night regular updates of Big Game from family back home. Our condolences to the fellow students who had to witness the drubbing in person. There's always next year.
Upon our arrival back in Barcelona, preparations immediately began for what was to be an unbelievable Thanksgiving dinner. Initial attempts at finding traditional Thanksgiving foods were thwarted, but we persevered. On wednesday we cooked our first of two turkeys, surprisingly available at the huge market on Las Ramblas. The cranberry jelly and pie crust came from an English food store called, appropriately, "A taste of home".
And what we couldn't buy, we cooked. Bobby, not to be defeated by a lack of pumpkin filling, went out and bought several pumpkins, mashed them up, and served up 2 delicious pumpkin pies from scratch. Will's stuffing was also made from scratch, and he also contributed a superb pecan pie. Gabe, not to be outdone, spearheaded the apple pie project. I made a lame attempt at a Lindsay family traditional dish, creamed onions. They were not very well received, (admittedly, for good reason), but cut me some slack, I'm still learning.
Other friends from our program brought over their own delicacies, and all in all, it was an incredible feast, especially for most of our first attempts at a legitimate Thanksgiving dinner. It was definitely a learning experience for all of us, and being with other American friends was the perfect way to celebrate it, despite being many miles away from our native soil. We even managed to stream a little football from the internet.
Friday was mainly lost to cleaning both our apartment and the dishes from the festivities, but we made up for it by going on some neat excursions both Saturday and Sunday. Saturday we ventured to a different University in Barcelona to see a cool exhibit on the best press photos of the year 2008 from all around the world. Sunday a few of us journeyed north to the town of Figueres, the home of the Salvador Dali museum. I think all of us are still trying to comprehend the paintings and exhibits that we saw, but they were certainly very interesting and entertaining.
We only have a few weekends left, and we're still not sure if we're going to venture out of the city before our departures. Either way, we're trying to make the most of the rest of our time in Spain. Ciao for now.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Zdravotnický Holešovického Výstaviště
For the record, I have no idea what the above title means, and my sincerest apologies to any Czech speaker that I might have offended.
On to the journey. We arrived in Prague on Thursday night (in reality it was about 5, but already dark), and took a picturesque shuttle to our hostel. After our 2+ months of tapas in Spain, we had grown accustomed to meals with meager portions, but it was clear at our first dinner that the Czech Republic did not subscribe to that doctrine. Our meals were cheap (thanks to the inflated Czech crown) and, more importantly, extremely hearty- a very welcome surprise. That also helped to explain the size of the Czech people- on average, we estimated they had us by a few inches, and at least 15 pounds. The policemen even more so; needless to say, we did our best not to stir up trouble.
The other noticeable change from Barcelona, of course, was the weather. Though it wasn't snowing, temperatures were flirting with below-freezing. Our sudden necessity for winter coats resulted in a weekend-long coat shopping adventure, for which Prague offered the perfect setting. The question now is whether or not we will be brave enough to wear them once back in the U.S., where not everyone sports a long black pea coat. Only time will tell.
Friday was our premiere sightseeing day, and we set out early given the relative lack of daylight hours. Our initial target was the Prague castle, but we kept managing to get distracted along the way- there are just too many neat sights. We made a stop at the famous Charles bridge to climb a nearby tower, which offered incredible views of the city. They call it the city of 100 spires, and it was easy to see why; it seemed as if there were towers poking up from all around us.
We did reach the castle eventually, and it turned out we saved the best for last. The castle was more like a complex of magnificent old buildings, including a palace and several cathedrals. We spent the rest of the day there, taking far too many pictures and trying to get in to the various regal buildings. The guards didn't buy it when we told them that we, too, were kings of sorts.
We then ventured back into town to the Old Town square, and were welcomed with a huge pack of tourists, cameras out, and clearly waiting for something to happen from the adjacent building. Will then remembered having heard about a landmark, the "clock tower", that does something unusual every hour on the hour. We arrived 5 minutes to, so it was perfect timing. Admittedly, we were expecting something noteworthy, but all we were greeted with on the o'clock was a few puppets rotating around an open window. It was nothing to write home about. Soon afterwards, we overheard a group that missed the show declare their intention to brave the cold and stay the full hour until the following display. A foolish decision.
That night we met up with a high school friend of Will and I who was conveniently studying in Prague for the semester. He showed us around a few cool local bars, as well as a few hotspots the next day. Our attempts to see a Czech hockey game were thwarted, so instead we decided to catch a showing of the new Bond film. How ecstatic Gabe and Will were to discover that Bond wore a coat similar to theirs in the final scene.
All in all, a really neat and eventful weekend- Prague had won us over before our departure. Stay tuned.
On to the journey. We arrived in Prague on Thursday night (in reality it was about 5, but already dark), and took a picturesque shuttle to our hostel. After our 2+ months of tapas in Spain, we had grown accustomed to meals with meager portions, but it was clear at our first dinner that the Czech Republic did not subscribe to that doctrine. Our meals were cheap (thanks to the inflated Czech crown) and, more importantly, extremely hearty- a very welcome surprise. That also helped to explain the size of the Czech people- on average, we estimated they had us by a few inches, and at least 15 pounds. The policemen even more so; needless to say, we did our best not to stir up trouble.
The other noticeable change from Barcelona, of course, was the weather. Though it wasn't snowing, temperatures were flirting with below-freezing. Our sudden necessity for winter coats resulted in a weekend-long coat shopping adventure, for which Prague offered the perfect setting. The question now is whether or not we will be brave enough to wear them once back in the U.S., where not everyone sports a long black pea coat. Only time will tell.
Friday was our premiere sightseeing day, and we set out early given the relative lack of daylight hours. Our initial target was the Prague castle, but we kept managing to get distracted along the way- there are just too many neat sights. We made a stop at the famous Charles bridge to climb a nearby tower, which offered incredible views of the city. They call it the city of 100 spires, and it was easy to see why; it seemed as if there were towers poking up from all around us.
We did reach the castle eventually, and it turned out we saved the best for last. The castle was more like a complex of magnificent old buildings, including a palace and several cathedrals. We spent the rest of the day there, taking far too many pictures and trying to get in to the various regal buildings. The guards didn't buy it when we told them that we, too, were kings of sorts.
We then ventured back into town to the Old Town square, and were welcomed with a huge pack of tourists, cameras out, and clearly waiting for something to happen from the adjacent building. Will then remembered having heard about a landmark, the "clock tower", that does something unusual every hour on the hour. We arrived 5 minutes to, so it was perfect timing. Admittedly, we were expecting something noteworthy, but all we were greeted with on the o'clock was a few puppets rotating around an open window. It was nothing to write home about. Soon afterwards, we overheard a group that missed the show declare their intention to brave the cold and stay the full hour until the following display. A foolish decision.
That night we met up with a high school friend of Will and I who was conveniently studying in Prague for the semester. He showed us around a few cool local bars, as well as a few hotspots the next day. Our attempts to see a Czech hockey game were thwarted, so instead we decided to catch a showing of the new Bond film. How ecstatic Gabe and Will were to discover that Bond wore a coat similar to theirs in the final scene.
All in all, a really neat and eventful weekend- Prague had won us over before our departure. Stay tuned.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Of Yachts and Montserrats
Reunited once again for the weekend, the kings +1 (Tim, joining us from Berlin) decided to venture to Montserrat, a nearby monastery built into the mountainside. While Will was tempted to climb from the bottom to the top, we managed to persuade him that the gondola was a better option.
The monastery in itself was fantastic, with epic carvings looming at every corner. We also got to witness the famous "Black Santa Maria", which the locals thought, until recently, was created that way centuries ago. Turns out it was constant exposure to smoke that turned it black- it still draws many tourists, though. Atop the statue was an amazing crown as well, which Gabe wanted to try on, to see how he looked as a real King of Catalonia. Again, our reasoning got the better of him.
Perhaps the best part of Montserrat, though, is the hiking. Our hiking tour, led by Will of course given his extensive resume, began with a trek through the woods, which led us to a dead end with excellent views of the Monastery. From there we trekked all the way up to the top of the mountain. We were excited to peer over the edge of the ridge and see no one for miles around- however, we were met with the sight of around 50 people shuffling around about 50 feet below us. We had hiked to the place where the funicular lets off. Oh well, at least we earned it.
Sunday we were lucky enough to get tickets to a yacht show in the nearby harbor, courtesy of Gabe's aunt and uncle. It was a very classy affair, or at least it was, until we showed up in our hoodies and sneakers. The disapproving looks from the other guests didn't stop us from enjoying looking at all the yachts we could find. Unfortunately, we were not able to board any of the magnificent boats- apparently they gave tours to "serious customers only," and in our current attire, we were quite the opposite.
We are all also looking forward to this weekend, where we will add a new country to our passports- the Czech Republic. More updates to come after Prague.
The monastery in itself was fantastic, with epic carvings looming at every corner. We also got to witness the famous "Black Santa Maria", which the locals thought, until recently, was created that way centuries ago. Turns out it was constant exposure to smoke that turned it black- it still draws many tourists, though. Atop the statue was an amazing crown as well, which Gabe wanted to try on, to see how he looked as a real King of Catalonia. Again, our reasoning got the better of him.
Perhaps the best part of Montserrat, though, is the hiking. Our hiking tour, led by Will of course given his extensive resume, began with a trek through the woods, which led us to a dead end with excellent views of the Monastery. From there we trekked all the way up to the top of the mountain. We were excited to peer over the edge of the ridge and see no one for miles around- however, we were met with the sight of around 50 people shuffling around about 50 feet below us. We had hiked to the place where the funicular lets off. Oh well, at least we earned it.
Sunday we were lucky enough to get tickets to a yacht show in the nearby harbor, courtesy of Gabe's aunt and uncle. It was a very classy affair, or at least it was, until we showed up in our hoodies and sneakers. The disapproving looks from the other guests didn't stop us from enjoying looking at all the yachts we could find. Unfortunately, we were not able to board any of the magnificent boats- apparently they gave tours to "serious customers only," and in our current attire, we were quite the opposite.
We are all also looking forward to this weekend, where we will add a new country to our passports- the Czech Republic. More updates to come after Prague.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Top O' The Mornin
We have been very busy around here of late, but apologies for the delay in posts. Mea culpa.
The weekend after the previous post was, unfortunately pretty rainy, as was the ensuing week. We did manage to catch our second live Barca game that Saturday night, however, and were treated a display of utter domination: Barca poured in 5 goals in the first half. We got our money's worth.
The highlight of last week had to be our venture into the world of wine tasting. Right down the street from us, we managed to find a great little wine store that also offers tastings, and of course we couldn't turn down the opportunity. So last wednesday night, we all put on our dinner jackets (for the first and maybe the last time in Barcelona) and pretended as if we knew what the hell we were talking about. The samples included a cava (the local champagne), 1 white and 2 reds, all from the Catalonia region. They were excellent- some might say even amusing in their presumption.
Our group decided to split up for this past Halloween weekend- Gabe and Bobby remained on the home front, and attended a Halloween party at an old castle a little bit outside the city. Will and myself ventured to Scotland and Ireland for a whirlwind tour, which was incredible. After a brief stint in Glasgow, (10 minutes brief- we were advised that Glasgow is not a place you go to, but a place you go through) we took the cross-country train to Edinburgh. Lucky us- we were traveling right at sunset, which offered amazing views of Scotland's incredible countryside.
After a dinner of bangers and mashed- their questionable name for sausages and mashed potatoes- in a Scottish pub, we took the train North to St. Andrews, where a few of our pals from St. Paul's hosted us. It was good to catch up with old friends that night and the next. Friday morning our friends were nice enough to give us a tour of the campus, which is one of the prettiest I've seen. Probably the best part- the world renowned Old Course is literally on campus, and students are offered an unbelievable discount. I was sorely tempted to try to get in a quick 9 at the least, however, the rain and cold were enough to deter me. I will play it one day, hopefully soon.
After the tour we hopped back down to Edinburgh for some sightseeing. It is a great city with a very ancient feel, and the Royal Mile is a very cool way to see the sights. The Edinburgh castle is very impressive in itself, but the whole walk was really neat. Given the near-freezing temperature, we were forced to go inside to warm up inside a few times- and the Scottish clan stores offered the perfect opportunities to do just that. Clan Lindsay, more specifically, clearly stood out among all others, and all of their items were appropriately more stylish than most.
The 8:00 flight from Edinburgh to Dublin proved slightly difficult, but with a few cups of coffee, we hit the Irish streets right upon our arrival. Dublin is, comparatively, a much more modern city- it certainly has its charm though. We walked around the pedestrian-only streets and the Temple Bar area for hours, and of course found time in the day to visit the Guinness factory. The Guinness Experience is probably more appropriate- the building is effectively a shrine to the beer. I felt so bombarded by the images of perfection of all the Guinness ingredients that at the end of the tour, where you receive your free pint, I asked for a Bud Light instead. They were not amused.
Other Dublin highlights included a service at St. Patrick's Cathedral that included their excellent choir, and also (the real) Trinity College. On Saturday night we found some great Irish music, and turned it in pretty early, exhausted from our long day. Sunday was an all-day travel day, and after a long weekend it was good to be back home.
This past week has also been somewhat of a whirlwind- after a midterm on tuesday, we stayed out till the wee hours tuesday night to catch the decision of the election back home. If we hadn't, though, we surely would have known by this morning: on our walk to school we heard more than a few Spanish Obama chants- it is clear who they were rooting for.
Another update to come sooner than last time.
The weekend after the previous post was, unfortunately pretty rainy, as was the ensuing week. We did manage to catch our second live Barca game that Saturday night, however, and were treated a display of utter domination: Barca poured in 5 goals in the first half. We got our money's worth.
The highlight of last week had to be our venture into the world of wine tasting. Right down the street from us, we managed to find a great little wine store that also offers tastings, and of course we couldn't turn down the opportunity. So last wednesday night, we all put on our dinner jackets (for the first and maybe the last time in Barcelona) and pretended as if we knew what the hell we were talking about. The samples included a cava (the local champagne), 1 white and 2 reds, all from the Catalonia region. They were excellent- some might say even amusing in their presumption.
Our group decided to split up for this past Halloween weekend- Gabe and Bobby remained on the home front, and attended a Halloween party at an old castle a little bit outside the city. Will and myself ventured to Scotland and Ireland for a whirlwind tour, which was incredible. After a brief stint in Glasgow, (10 minutes brief- we were advised that Glasgow is not a place you go to, but a place you go through) we took the cross-country train to Edinburgh. Lucky us- we were traveling right at sunset, which offered amazing views of Scotland's incredible countryside.
After a dinner of bangers and mashed- their questionable name for sausages and mashed potatoes- in a Scottish pub, we took the train North to St. Andrews, where a few of our pals from St. Paul's hosted us. It was good to catch up with old friends that night and the next. Friday morning our friends were nice enough to give us a tour of the campus, which is one of the prettiest I've seen. Probably the best part- the world renowned Old Course is literally on campus, and students are offered an unbelievable discount. I was sorely tempted to try to get in a quick 9 at the least, however, the rain and cold were enough to deter me. I will play it one day, hopefully soon.
After the tour we hopped back down to Edinburgh for some sightseeing. It is a great city with a very ancient feel, and the Royal Mile is a very cool way to see the sights. The Edinburgh castle is very impressive in itself, but the whole walk was really neat. Given the near-freezing temperature, we were forced to go inside to warm up inside a few times- and the Scottish clan stores offered the perfect opportunities to do just that. Clan Lindsay, more specifically, clearly stood out among all others, and all of their items were appropriately more stylish than most.
The 8:00 flight from Edinburgh to Dublin proved slightly difficult, but with a few cups of coffee, we hit the Irish streets right upon our arrival. Dublin is, comparatively, a much more modern city- it certainly has its charm though. We walked around the pedestrian-only streets and the Temple Bar area for hours, and of course found time in the day to visit the Guinness factory. The Guinness Experience is probably more appropriate- the building is effectively a shrine to the beer. I felt so bombarded by the images of perfection of all the Guinness ingredients that at the end of the tour, where you receive your free pint, I asked for a Bud Light instead. They were not amused.
Other Dublin highlights included a service at St. Patrick's Cathedral that included their excellent choir, and also (the real) Trinity College. On Saturday night we found some great Irish music, and turned it in pretty early, exhausted from our long day. Sunday was an all-day travel day, and after a long weekend it was good to be back home.
This past week has also been somewhat of a whirlwind- after a midterm on tuesday, we stayed out till the wee hours tuesday night to catch the decision of the election back home. If we hadn't, though, we surely would have known by this morning: on our walk to school we heard more than a few Spanish Obama chants- it is clear who they were rooting for.
Another update to come sooner than last time.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
A Cardinal Weekend
Once back in Europe, we finally were able to enjoy several days of rest. We even found a public outdoor basketball court, which we had been searching for since our arrival here. Gabe is confident he can hustle a few bucks out of the locals. Will opted for the rock wall instead, and has been several times since, even meeting a few Spaniards in the process.
Starting thursday, however, Barcelona was bleeding Cardinal red- Stanford students abroad came from all over the continent to celebrate a birthday. We were only too happy to host them. Unfortunately, the weather wasn't too cooperative, and somewhat ruined our plans to enjoy Montjuic, a must-see in Barcelona, on Friday. After finding shelter in a bar briefly, though, we salvaged a rainy afternoon at the National Catalonian Art Museum, which we had not yet visited. We all met up later to enjoy Barcelona's nightlife- everyone agreed it is second-to-none.
Saturday was game day vs. UCLA. Normally this wouldn't be a massive rivalry, but given both the mass of UCLA students in the ISA program and the comparable number of Stanford students here for the weekend, blood was boiling on both sides. Though we made a valiant effort at somehow maneuvering a way to watch the game live, we all ended up crowding around a little laptop with the "gametracker" on it, that is, watching a blue line and a red line march down the virtual fields. It did come down to an exciting finish, though unfortunately not in our favor. We were greeted Sunday morning with taunting and bragging via text message from several of our so-called UCLA friends.
Our losing streak also continued into this week. A local bar hosts a "Quiz Night" every Wednesday night, and we decided to finally take our shot at the big money prize. The questions were too pop-culture oriented for us though, and we came away with a disappointing second place finish. To prepare for next week's contest, we're reading the encyclopedia cover to cover.
We have also been getting increasingly more adventuresome in the kitchen. Recently, with the help of "Dad's Own Cookbook", we have feasted on some home cooked classics, including chili, chicken parmesan, and lasagna. Our corn bread, however, leaves much to be desired.
In other news, Bobby has started a volunteer language exchange program with a Spaniard, and Gabe is sick but hopefully on the mend. All of us are looking forward to another great week in Barcelona. Stay tuned.
Starting thursday, however, Barcelona was bleeding Cardinal red- Stanford students abroad came from all over the continent to celebrate a birthday. We were only too happy to host them. Unfortunately, the weather wasn't too cooperative, and somewhat ruined our plans to enjoy Montjuic, a must-see in Barcelona, on Friday. After finding shelter in a bar briefly, though, we salvaged a rainy afternoon at the National Catalonian Art Museum, which we had not yet visited. We all met up later to enjoy Barcelona's nightlife- everyone agreed it is second-to-none.
Saturday was game day vs. UCLA. Normally this wouldn't be a massive rivalry, but given both the mass of UCLA students in the ISA program and the comparable number of Stanford students here for the weekend, blood was boiling on both sides. Though we made a valiant effort at somehow maneuvering a way to watch the game live, we all ended up crowding around a little laptop with the "gametracker" on it, that is, watching a blue line and a red line march down the virtual fields. It did come down to an exciting finish, though unfortunately not in our favor. We were greeted Sunday morning with taunting and bragging via text message from several of our so-called UCLA friends.
Our losing streak also continued into this week. A local bar hosts a "Quiz Night" every Wednesday night, and we decided to finally take our shot at the big money prize. The questions were too pop-culture oriented for us though, and we came away with a disappointing second place finish. To prepare for next week's contest, we're reading the encyclopedia cover to cover.
We have also been getting increasingly more adventuresome in the kitchen. Recently, with the help of "Dad's Own Cookbook", we have feasted on some home cooked classics, including chili, chicken parmesan, and lasagna. Our corn bread, however, leaves much to be desired.
In other news, Bobby has started a volunteer language exchange program with a Spaniard, and Gabe is sick but hopefully on the mend. All of us are looking forward to another great week in Barcelona. Stay tuned.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
A Safari... of sorts
Apologies for the delay in this entry- we are still recovering from our various Moroccan stomach illnesses that were a bit trying at times. On the whole though, it was an interesting trip, and Bobby and I (Pitch) even managed to get in a little camel riding.
We knew we were in for an adventure when, after meeting our transportation at the Marrakech airport, we discovered the ride to our accommodations on the coast was a 5 hour journey, rather than the hour commute we expected. So after a good Moroccan meal in the city, we were on the road. The drive was long and windy, but eventually we ended up in the right place, a small town near Agadir, at the very reasonable hour of 2 am.
We were greeted the next morning by some excellent Moroccan weather, and we immediately hit the beach to take advantage- surfboards and a lesson were included in our trip. It was hard to say which of us was the worst, though I might nominated myself, as I was the only one who managed to break the fin of the board off on my head after getting tossed by a sizable wave. Not that everyone else was much better- we had all perfected the panicked head-over-heels flail by the early afternoon, and we tried to stick to the outsides of the group so as to avoid being seen. But we are determined to improve, and were it not for the terrible weather on Saturday, I have no doubt we would all have been hanging ten with the best of them at weekend's end.
Friday night also included a trip to a Moroccan bath house, by far the most culturally interesting part of our adventure. It is basically a large steam room, and the men and women are separated of course. Its BYOSST- bring your own shampoo, soap, and towel- but everyone receives a bucket upon their entrance, to be filled with the piping hot water (cold is also available, and surprisingly refreshing) from the taps on the walls of the bath house. The locals clearly knew the way to sit that offers the best leverage for optimal scrubbing, but we managed just fine.
Dinner that night was good, but I would eventually regret it- starting early saturday morning, I was sidelined the entire day with food poisoning. It also rained the entire day, which made surfing impossible because all the trash from the street drained down to the coast and into the surf. So the others decided to go to the town market, where they chatted it up with a nice local tea vendor while sampling some of his goods.
I was recovered enough by Sunday, but had seemingly transferred my illness to Will- at least we were already on our way home. We got back to Marrakech early enough for a quick stroll around the flea market, where Gabe, Bobby and I all haggled for some gifts before our departure. Needless to say, it was nice to get home.
More on this past weekend to come later.
We knew we were in for an adventure when, after meeting our transportation at the Marrakech airport, we discovered the ride to our accommodations on the coast was a 5 hour journey, rather than the hour commute we expected. So after a good Moroccan meal in the city, we were on the road. The drive was long and windy, but eventually we ended up in the right place, a small town near Agadir, at the very reasonable hour of 2 am.
We were greeted the next morning by some excellent Moroccan weather, and we immediately hit the beach to take advantage- surfboards and a lesson were included in our trip. It was hard to say which of us was the worst, though I might nominated myself, as I was the only one who managed to break the fin of the board off on my head after getting tossed by a sizable wave. Not that everyone else was much better- we had all perfected the panicked head-over-heels flail by the early afternoon, and we tried to stick to the outsides of the group so as to avoid being seen. But we are determined to improve, and were it not for the terrible weather on Saturday, I have no doubt we would all have been hanging ten with the best of them at weekend's end.
Friday night also included a trip to a Moroccan bath house, by far the most culturally interesting part of our adventure. It is basically a large steam room, and the men and women are separated of course. Its BYOSST- bring your own shampoo, soap, and towel- but everyone receives a bucket upon their entrance, to be filled with the piping hot water (cold is also available, and surprisingly refreshing) from the taps on the walls of the bath house. The locals clearly knew the way to sit that offers the best leverage for optimal scrubbing, but we managed just fine.
Dinner that night was good, but I would eventually regret it- starting early saturday morning, I was sidelined the entire day with food poisoning. It also rained the entire day, which made surfing impossible because all the trash from the street drained down to the coast and into the surf. So the others decided to go to the town market, where they chatted it up with a nice local tea vendor while sampling some of his goods.
I was recovered enough by Sunday, but had seemingly transferred my illness to Will- at least we were already on our way home. We got back to Marrakech early enough for a quick stroll around the flea market, where Gabe, Bobby and I all haggled for some gifts before our departure. Needless to say, it was nice to get home.
More on this past weekend to come later.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Prost!
Immediately after Oktoberfest '08 it was decided: we would book our trip to Oktoberfest '09. We just might go ahead and do 2010-2020 while we're at it.
We arrived with Maya and Tunji on thursday night, checked into the hotel, and immediately migrated, or maybe pilgrimaged is more appropriate, to the festivities. The brisk air provided a welcome change to the mild Barcelona fall. But Oktoberfest- what a sight! Full steins of beer, footlong bratwursts, and carnival rides as far as the eye could see. It was like kids in a candy store. Or like young adults in a brewery. A big brewery. Except all the men were wearing lederhosen, and the women durndels. We almost sprung for the traditional outfits, but managed to resist.
It was clear, though, that most of the main action at the Fest took place in the tents, which each serve their own brand of beer and hold up to 6000 people. We showed up too late to get into one on thursday, but we watched jealously from the (now rainy) outside as thousands of revelers toasted every few minutes and sung songs. We knew we had to do whatever it took to get in.
Turns out what it takes is a very early morning. After meeting our good friends Luke and Nick, fresh in from Madrid, and Tim and Aaron who arrived late thursday night, we packed it in for an early rise the next morning. At 8 am we left for the fairgrounds, but on our commute we realized that we might have been too late yet again, as the subway and tunnel to the tents were already packed. We tried to get into one of the more popular tents, the Schotten-something, but no luck. At the last second, we found that the Lowenbrau tent had spots still open, and we just made it in before the doors closed.
We settled in very nicely, even making friends with the German group at the table next to us. We learned some German drinking songs, undoubtedly heavy with profanity that we didn't understand, and, of course, sampled the local Lowenbrau beer. Unfortunately, though, we had unknowingly sat at the "reserved" tables, which were the only ones left when we came in. We made a valiant effort at hiding and defacing the paper reservation put on our table, and almost got ourselves kicked out in the process. Eventually the waiters won, though, and we all became one of the dreaded "table nomads", wandering from table to table with our steins, looking for a friendly face and anywhere we could squeeze in. Nomad life is understandably tiring though, and we left in the early afternoon, somewhat discouraged. The day was not completely lost though- we sampled our first German wheat beer.
We vowed the same would not happen on our remaining day, and thus were up and at 'em 6 am Saturday morning. The line for the Haufbrahaus was already significant, but we were finally able to get a non-reserved table, though a few of us were effectively suffocated by the hordes pushing through to the tent doors. We finally experienced the true Oktoberfest day in the Haufbrahaus- the place erupted when the band came on stage. They played for hours, and surprisingly, most of the songs were in English. Crowd favorites included John Denver's Country Road, New York New York, Won't You Be My Girl, and an acapella version of Seven Nation Army. We left that evening satisfied, and hoping we could some day return.
This weekend, we are off to Morocco, which is sure to be yet another adventure. Stay tuned.
We arrived with Maya and Tunji on thursday night, checked into the hotel, and immediately migrated, or maybe pilgrimaged is more appropriate, to the festivities. The brisk air provided a welcome change to the mild Barcelona fall. But Oktoberfest- what a sight! Full steins of beer, footlong bratwursts, and carnival rides as far as the eye could see. It was like kids in a candy store. Or like young adults in a brewery. A big brewery. Except all the men were wearing lederhosen, and the women durndels. We almost sprung for the traditional outfits, but managed to resist.
It was clear, though, that most of the main action at the Fest took place in the tents, which each serve their own brand of beer and hold up to 6000 people. We showed up too late to get into one on thursday, but we watched jealously from the (now rainy) outside as thousands of revelers toasted every few minutes and sung songs. We knew we had to do whatever it took to get in.
Turns out what it takes is a very early morning. After meeting our good friends Luke and Nick, fresh in from Madrid, and Tim and Aaron who arrived late thursday night, we packed it in for an early rise the next morning. At 8 am we left for the fairgrounds, but on our commute we realized that we might have been too late yet again, as the subway and tunnel to the tents were already packed. We tried to get into one of the more popular tents, the Schotten-something, but no luck. At the last second, we found that the Lowenbrau tent had spots still open, and we just made it in before the doors closed.
We settled in very nicely, even making friends with the German group at the table next to us. We learned some German drinking songs, undoubtedly heavy with profanity that we didn't understand, and, of course, sampled the local Lowenbrau beer. Unfortunately, though, we had unknowingly sat at the "reserved" tables, which were the only ones left when we came in. We made a valiant effort at hiding and defacing the paper reservation put on our table, and almost got ourselves kicked out in the process. Eventually the waiters won, though, and we all became one of the dreaded "table nomads", wandering from table to table with our steins, looking for a friendly face and anywhere we could squeeze in. Nomad life is understandably tiring though, and we left in the early afternoon, somewhat discouraged. The day was not completely lost though- we sampled our first German wheat beer.
We vowed the same would not happen on our remaining day, and thus were up and at 'em 6 am Saturday morning. The line for the Haufbrahaus was already significant, but we were finally able to get a non-reserved table, though a few of us were effectively suffocated by the hordes pushing through to the tent doors. We finally experienced the true Oktoberfest day in the Haufbrahaus- the place erupted when the band came on stage. They played for hours, and surprisingly, most of the songs were in English. Crowd favorites included John Denver's Country Road, New York New York, Won't You Be My Girl, and an acapella version of Seven Nation Army. We left that evening satisfied, and hoping we could some day return.
This weekend, we are off to Morocco, which is sure to be yet another adventure. Stay tuned.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Coast to Coast
San Sebastian turned out to be the perfect long weekend getaway. We took full advantage of perhaps the last beach days we'll see this fall, and spent them on the nicest beach we've seen so far. And our timing was perfect- coincidentally, we overlapped with San Sebastian's world renowned film festival- which meant hundreds of screaming girls lining up on the red carpet to catch a glimpse of Meryl Streep, among others. Will shouted to her, hoping for an autograph, but to no avail.
Our final night we decided to climb the hill at the foot of the city. We were immediately rewarded with a fantastic view of one of the prettiest cities we've seen in our travels, and we all decided to return at some point.
It was also our first lengthy train ride since arriving in Europe- an 8 hour journey during the day on wednesday, and a 10 hour overnight return trip on Friday night. The bed cabin rivaled that of a barracks, but after we put our touch on it, it felt just like home- so much so that Gabe has since resolved to travel everywhere by overnight train.
Our other classes have also started, which unfortunately cuts into our sightseeing time, but I suppose it's called study abroad for a reason. Anyway, we always have things to look forward to- this weekend, we will be meeting up with some good friends at Oktoberfest. I'm sure we will have excellent tales from Deutschland upon our return.
Our final night we decided to climb the hill at the foot of the city. We were immediately rewarded with a fantastic view of one of the prettiest cities we've seen in our travels, and we all decided to return at some point.
It was also our first lengthy train ride since arriving in Europe- an 8 hour journey during the day on wednesday, and a 10 hour overnight return trip on Friday night. The bed cabin rivaled that of a barracks, but after we put our touch on it, it felt just like home- so much so that Gabe has since resolved to travel everywhere by overnight train.
Our other classes have also started, which unfortunately cuts into our sightseeing time, but I suppose it's called study abroad for a reason. Anyway, we always have things to look forward to- this weekend, we will be meeting up with some good friends at Oktoberfest. I'm sure we will have excellent tales from Deutschland upon our return.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Merced.. a Pyro´s dream come true
My apologies to our faithful readers for the belated entry- im trying to do at least one post a week, but inevitably i will be a bit late on some occasions. My only hope is that the quality will somehow make up for the lack of quantity.
First, Ibiza. Wow. They call it the party capital of the world, and deservedly so. From the moment we stepped foot on the island, we were immersed in a place where the only relevant subject was which world-renowned DJs are playing at which famous clubs that night. Everything, from massive billboards to the island´s mcdonalds, was involved in party promotion. I admit I felt a little inadequate in terms of my DJ/electronic music knowledge, because when purchasing tickets to the clubs, we were asked which type of electronic music we enjoy the most (options including trance, house, funkyhouse, basshouse, big house, little house, your house, my house), our only response was "uh.. fiesta?".
We decided to base our club choice on name brand alone, so naturally our first stop was world-renowned Pacha. It was incredible, but in my opinion it was dwarfed by the following night´s selection- Privilege. Privilege also happens to be the biggest club in world- we were constantly reminded of this fact, too, when Will would yell it out intermittently during the festivities. Privilege appeared more like a small town than a club- i wouldnt be surprised if it has its own area code. It had everything from food vendors, outside and inside, to memorabilia shops (at least 5). I naturally assumed that Privilege consisted of many different dance rooms, but was quickly disproven when we walked into the club and were greeted with a space the size of a large airplane hangar- and 10,000 people dancing to the pounding bass from the DJ booth, which, by the way, was suspended above a pool. It truly needs to be seen to be believed- pictures and videos will be provided upon request.
After our return on Saturday, we were looking forward to several night´s rest. We were rudely awoken from our naps, however, when we heard what we thought were gunshots from the nearby pedestrian avenue. Upon our arrival we discovered they were not gunshots, but small fireworks, carried by people in devil costumes through the streets. Turns out it was the start of Barcelona´s biggest annual festival- La Merce, right outside our doorstep. We would not be granted peace and quiet anytime soon, but sleep is for the weak anyway I suppose.
The details on what exactly is being celebrated are still somewhat vague, but that didn´t stop us from participating like true locals in the festivities. The custom is for groups of people, outfitted in hoodies and bandanas despite the immense heat, to surround the "demons" carrying the fireworks and jump around, as that is the only way to avoid the spray from the sparklers. Dressed only in shorts, tshirts and sandals, we thought the devils would take it easy on us if we danced in the background. Not so. True to form, the demons preyed on the weak (in this case the underdressed), and they had no hesitations about exposing our vulnerablities and spraying us on the skin from point blank range. Bobby´s lasting neck burn is a constant reminder of our poor decision.
Thus we smartly chose to run back to our apartment, change into sparkle-resistant apparel, and head back out. We danced with the devils (and gargoyle and dragon floats as well, each outfitted with 3-5 sparklers apiece) until the parade was over. We then sprinted to the pier to catch the end of the fireworks, which rivaled anything ive seen on the 4th of july.
The next day was equally as entertaining- in the square 2 blocks from our apartment, teams of castellers (look on wikipedia if youre interested) build human castles, approximately 8 people high. They start with burly, juiced up men on the bottom, followed by girls towards the top. The only one to make it to the very top of the castle, however, is a small child, no more than 7 or 8 years old. I couldn´t help but feel slightly emasculated, watching these children, who probably have more cojones than I will ever have, risk life and limb climbing to the top of a human tower to entertain us all. And the towers did fall- we witnessed 2 enormous collapses- amazingly no one was hurt. In fact, a team´s response to failure was to get up and try it again- incredible persistence.
Perhaps the most relevant part of La Merce, though, is our time off from school- after a grueling week of classes (monday and tuesday), we were free for the weekend. Of course we had to take advantage of our time off, so on somewhat of a whim, we trained it all the way across the country to San Sebastian on the Atlantic coast, where we are now. It is famous for having the prettiest beach in the country, and this is perhaps the last taste of beach weather we will experience this fall. On that note, the beach is beckoning- more to come later.
Also I noticed a request from one of our readers, the mightyarmenian (by the way if you were trying to disguise your identity with that name you failed miserably) that we sign our names with our posts.
Hasta Luego,
Pitch
P.S. pictures to be posted upon our return to Barcelona
First, Ibiza. Wow. They call it the party capital of the world, and deservedly so. From the moment we stepped foot on the island, we were immersed in a place where the only relevant subject was which world-renowned DJs are playing at which famous clubs that night. Everything, from massive billboards to the island´s mcdonalds, was involved in party promotion. I admit I felt a little inadequate in terms of my DJ/electronic music knowledge, because when purchasing tickets to the clubs, we were asked which type of electronic music we enjoy the most (options including trance, house, funkyhouse, basshouse, big house, little house, your house, my house), our only response was "uh.. fiesta?".
We decided to base our club choice on name brand alone, so naturally our first stop was world-renowned Pacha. It was incredible, but in my opinion it was dwarfed by the following night´s selection- Privilege. Privilege also happens to be the biggest club in world- we were constantly reminded of this fact, too, when Will would yell it out intermittently during the festivities. Privilege appeared more like a small town than a club- i wouldnt be surprised if it has its own area code. It had everything from food vendors, outside and inside, to memorabilia shops (at least 5). I naturally assumed that Privilege consisted of many different dance rooms, but was quickly disproven when we walked into the club and were greeted with a space the size of a large airplane hangar- and 10,000 people dancing to the pounding bass from the DJ booth, which, by the way, was suspended above a pool. It truly needs to be seen to be believed- pictures and videos will be provided upon request.
After our return on Saturday, we were looking forward to several night´s rest. We were rudely awoken from our naps, however, when we heard what we thought were gunshots from the nearby pedestrian avenue. Upon our arrival we discovered they were not gunshots, but small fireworks, carried by people in devil costumes through the streets. Turns out it was the start of Barcelona´s biggest annual festival- La Merce, right outside our doorstep. We would not be granted peace and quiet anytime soon, but sleep is for the weak anyway I suppose.
The details on what exactly is being celebrated are still somewhat vague, but that didn´t stop us from participating like true locals in the festivities. The custom is for groups of people, outfitted in hoodies and bandanas despite the immense heat, to surround the "demons" carrying the fireworks and jump around, as that is the only way to avoid the spray from the sparklers. Dressed only in shorts, tshirts and sandals, we thought the devils would take it easy on us if we danced in the background. Not so. True to form, the demons preyed on the weak (in this case the underdressed), and they had no hesitations about exposing our vulnerablities and spraying us on the skin from point blank range. Bobby´s lasting neck burn is a constant reminder of our poor decision.
Thus we smartly chose to run back to our apartment, change into sparkle-resistant apparel, and head back out. We danced with the devils (and gargoyle and dragon floats as well, each outfitted with 3-5 sparklers apiece) until the parade was over. We then sprinted to the pier to catch the end of the fireworks, which rivaled anything ive seen on the 4th of july.
The next day was equally as entertaining- in the square 2 blocks from our apartment, teams of castellers (look on wikipedia if youre interested) build human castles, approximately 8 people high. They start with burly, juiced up men on the bottom, followed by girls towards the top. The only one to make it to the very top of the castle, however, is a small child, no more than 7 or 8 years old. I couldn´t help but feel slightly emasculated, watching these children, who probably have more cojones than I will ever have, risk life and limb climbing to the top of a human tower to entertain us all. And the towers did fall- we witnessed 2 enormous collapses- amazingly no one was hurt. In fact, a team´s response to failure was to get up and try it again- incredible persistence.
Perhaps the most relevant part of La Merce, though, is our time off from school- after a grueling week of classes (monday and tuesday), we were free for the weekend. Of course we had to take advantage of our time off, so on somewhat of a whim, we trained it all the way across the country to San Sebastian on the Atlantic coast, where we are now. It is famous for having the prettiest beach in the country, and this is perhaps the last taste of beach weather we will experience this fall. On that note, the beach is beckoning- more to come later.
Also I noticed a request from one of our readers, the mightyarmenian (by the way if you were trying to disguise your identity with that name you failed miserably) that we sign our names with our posts.
Hasta Luego,
Pitch
P.S. pictures to be posted upon our return to Barcelona
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
The More the Merrier
Since the last entry our little group has grown significantly, if only for a week or so. We had the pleasure of hosting several friends, some from Stanford and some not, and the apartment was always abuzz with activity. And like any polite houseguests, they trashed the place into oblivion.
No, if anything our Stanford ladies, Britt and Haley, only motivated us more to get out and see the sights, since they were not going to have several months to see Barcelona's attractions. And what better place to start their sightseeing then at a packed DJ Tiesto concert? Not to mention the very reasonable hours of his set- from 2 am to sunrise. It was a great time though, and the girls were troopers considering they were battling their heavy jetlag all night.
We saw the normal tourist attractions as well though, don't worry. Highlights included La Sagrada Familia, Gaudi's enormous, unfortunately unfinished cathedral (check back in 10 years), as well as Park Guell, a Gaudi-designed park that offered awesome views of the whole city. As you can see, the Catalonians make quite a big deal of this Gaudi fellow. Me, I think he's a hack. But anyway, thanks to Britt's insistence, we also saw the great free light show offered at the fountains of Plaza Espanya most nights, which was really cool. No Disney music like Britt was hoping for, but the classical orchestra soundtrack did just fine.
And let us not forget without a doubt the highlight of the week, our first (of many, hopefully) FC Barcelona game last night. We saw Barca dominate against an inferior Portuguese team in a Champions League match, and of course, we were all decked out in the home squad colors of blue and dark red. We sang along with the crowd for the Barca anthem, but our crooning would noticeably turn to inaudible mumbling for the lyrics that we didn't know, which happened to be most of them. We also established an agreement that if any player scores a goal and someone from our group has on his jersey, we all pay for his beer. Will donned the jersey of the Spanish phenom midfielder Xavi, and wouldn't you know it, he had a beautiful sliding goal in the final minutes of the game. We made good on our pact, despite Will's incessant boasting. I'm not discouraged yet though, it's a long season. We hope to return to the stadium Camp Nou as soon as we can.
Other than that, not too much else to report. School is moving along, and all of us are benefiting from our daily Spanish classes. We were even recently moved to make a "Spanish hour" every day in which we babble incoherently to each other with our newly learned grammar and vocabulary, no doubt butchering the language beyond belief. Gabe cringes the entire time.
This weekend we go to Ibiza, sure to provide us with some excellent stories. Until then, Ciao.
No, if anything our Stanford ladies, Britt and Haley, only motivated us more to get out and see the sights, since they were not going to have several months to see Barcelona's attractions. And what better place to start their sightseeing then at a packed DJ Tiesto concert? Not to mention the very reasonable hours of his set- from 2 am to sunrise. It was a great time though, and the girls were troopers considering they were battling their heavy jetlag all night.
We saw the normal tourist attractions as well though, don't worry. Highlights included La Sagrada Familia, Gaudi's enormous, unfortunately unfinished cathedral (check back in 10 years), as well as Park Guell, a Gaudi-designed park that offered awesome views of the whole city. As you can see, the Catalonians make quite a big deal of this Gaudi fellow. Me, I think he's a hack. But anyway, thanks to Britt's insistence, we also saw the great free light show offered at the fountains of Plaza Espanya most nights, which was really cool. No Disney music like Britt was hoping for, but the classical orchestra soundtrack did just fine.
And let us not forget without a doubt the highlight of the week, our first (of many, hopefully) FC Barcelona game last night. We saw Barca dominate against an inferior Portuguese team in a Champions League match, and of course, we were all decked out in the home squad colors of blue and dark red. We sang along with the crowd for the Barca anthem, but our crooning would noticeably turn to inaudible mumbling for the lyrics that we didn't know, which happened to be most of them. We also established an agreement that if any player scores a goal and someone from our group has on his jersey, we all pay for his beer. Will donned the jersey of the Spanish phenom midfielder Xavi, and wouldn't you know it, he had a beautiful sliding goal in the final minutes of the game. We made good on our pact, despite Will's incessant boasting. I'm not discouraged yet though, it's a long season. We hope to return to the stadium Camp Nou as soon as we can.
Other than that, not too much else to report. School is moving along, and all of us are benefiting from our daily Spanish classes. We were even recently moved to make a "Spanish hour" every day in which we babble incoherently to each other with our newly learned grammar and vocabulary, no doubt butchering the language beyond belief. Gabe cringes the entire time.
This weekend we go to Ibiza, sure to provide us with some excellent stories. Until then, Ciao.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Barca! Barca! Baaaaarrrrca!
First week of class is over- apparently Spaniards prefer to attend fiestas rather than school. A wise choice.
The city is unbelievable. Our apartment is within a block of the subway station, which makes getting anywhere convenient- class is only a 20 minute journey. Even so, it is very tempting to just play hooky every day and explore. We have hit the beach a few times (can't quite muster the courage to purchase a speedo yet), the clubs more than a few times, and even managed to take advantage of the free admission to the Picasso museum the first Sunday of every month. The museum is also 50 feet from our apartment- we're planning our painting heist as we speak. We're about 2 blocks from a huge medieval church, and a 5 minute walk from Las Ramblas, the main pedestrian avenue which is an adventure in itself.
Other than exploring, we have been taking a few (sometimes frustrating) shopping trips while we are trying to settle down- getting milk, sour cream and ranch dressing has proven difficult. Will and I scored a minor victory, though, when we found one of the only bagel stores in Barcelona- again, a 5 minute walk. That and some philly cream cheese has been a little slice of home.
Not to say we haven't been trying our hand at the local cuisine though- Bobby has so far served up a tasty batch of his unique brand of sangria, as well as a very Spanish potato and cheese pie. All of us contributed on our epic fajita night last night, which certainly rivaled that of world renowned chef Helge in Kappa Sig. We might not be cooking up feasts every night- but Pizza Hut delivery-by-scooter is only a phone call away.
The nightlife has most certainly been worthy of mention as well- we have found some awesome themed bars in all corners of the town- some too crowded for their own good, some very chill and relaxed spots. Highlights have included a forest-themed bar, a bar where Hemingway used to spend time, and a bar called Dow Jones where the prices of drinks rise and fall with purchases like stocks, and the market suffers an epic collapse every hour. I wanted to make a new drink and put it on the market with an IPO, but no luck. Annoying club promoters are also relentless in their pursuit of abroad American partygoers, but we are shifting away from that trend.
Trip planning has also been a time commitment. We are hoping to go to an FC Barcelona game in the near future, and with our new official '08 jerseys with the names of our favorite players, we are sure to be among the most stylish fans. We have even tried our hand at learning the club's official anthem, which apparently is the first song any decent Catalan couple teaches their kids. Gabe and I have not forgotten about football (and baseball) back at home though- we are in the process of searching for an American place where we can hopefully catch a few games throughout the season. Go Giants and Mets.
Ok, that's all for now.
The city is unbelievable. Our apartment is within a block of the subway station, which makes getting anywhere convenient- class is only a 20 minute journey. Even so, it is very tempting to just play hooky every day and explore. We have hit the beach a few times (can't quite muster the courage to purchase a speedo yet), the clubs more than a few times, and even managed to take advantage of the free admission to the Picasso museum the first Sunday of every month. The museum is also 50 feet from our apartment- we're planning our painting heist as we speak. We're about 2 blocks from a huge medieval church, and a 5 minute walk from Las Ramblas, the main pedestrian avenue which is an adventure in itself.
Other than exploring, we have been taking a few (sometimes frustrating) shopping trips while we are trying to settle down- getting milk, sour cream and ranch dressing has proven difficult. Will and I scored a minor victory, though, when we found one of the only bagel stores in Barcelona- again, a 5 minute walk. That and some philly cream cheese has been a little slice of home.
Not to say we haven't been trying our hand at the local cuisine though- Bobby has so far served up a tasty batch of his unique brand of sangria, as well as a very Spanish potato and cheese pie. All of us contributed on our epic fajita night last night, which certainly rivaled that of world renowned chef Helge in Kappa Sig. We might not be cooking up feasts every night- but Pizza Hut delivery-by-scooter is only a phone call away.
The nightlife has most certainly been worthy of mention as well- we have found some awesome themed bars in all corners of the town- some too crowded for their own good, some very chill and relaxed spots. Highlights have included a forest-themed bar, a bar where Hemingway used to spend time, and a bar called Dow Jones where the prices of drinks rise and fall with purchases like stocks, and the market suffers an epic collapse every hour. I wanted to make a new drink and put it on the market with an IPO, but no luck. Annoying club promoters are also relentless in their pursuit of abroad American partygoers, but we are shifting away from that trend.
Trip planning has also been a time commitment. We are hoping to go to an FC Barcelona game in the near future, and with our new official '08 jerseys with the names of our favorite players, we are sure to be among the most stylish fans. We have even tried our hand at learning the club's official anthem, which apparently is the first song any decent Catalan couple teaches their kids. Gabe and I have not forgotten about football (and baseball) back at home though- we are in the process of searching for an American place where we can hopefully catch a few games throughout the season. Go Giants and Mets.
Ok, that's all for now.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Home Sweet Home... away from home
The past 5 days have been a complete whirlwind, to say the least.
Despite a nearly missed flight to Madrid, we made it there safely and met up with the ISA crew. Petty bureaucratic meetings aside (which Gabe is still seething about I believe), the program is a good one. Our fellow students are nice, and we will no doubt be getting to know them better over the coming months. It also was a pleasant surprise that the girls appear to outnumber the guys by about a 2 to 1 ratio. Lucky us.
Onto Madrid, though. Although we didn't get enough time as we might have liked to explore the city due to the ISA schedule, we did see some great sights. Possibly the highlight was the Santa Cruz del Valle de los Caídos, where Francisco Franco is buried. Everything about the mountainside church is impressive, most notably the enormous monk statues- their bulging muscles, dark hooded cloaks and swords combine to form quite an imposing image. It was all we could do to resist from acting out some sort of epic Lord-of-the-Rings-esque sword fight in the church, but more on that later. Other Madrid sights included the King's palace and the museum that hosts Picasso's Guernica, also very impressive. The museum also had adequate bench space, always a plus.
Food here has been somewhat of an adventure. On night 1, we adopted the "leave it to chance" method with local tapas, and after attempting a cold anchovy sandwich (which the waiter found a curious order, now we know why), we found ourselves basking in the familiar glow of the golden arches. Forgive me, Mom and Dad. On night 2, we did considerably better, but the portions were just too small. Back to Mickey D's it was. Don't worry, from then on we stuck to our guns: cheese croquettes have quickly become a group favorite.
After Madrid we spent a couple of nights in Toledo, which was a blast. It's hard not to enjoy the scenery when you're surrounded by a medieval castle, even though our tour guide was less than inspired: he took his "bathroom break" to sit in the corner of a cafe and sip on some red wine. At 11:00 am. Will and I, however, were so taken in by the mood that we convinced ourselves to purchase real combat swords. Soon afterwards, we knighted each other and dueled to the death. No fair maidens yet, though. Another night worthy of mention was our somewhat sacrilegious time at a monastery bar- only in Toledo, I suppose.
After a rude awakening the next morning at 9 am, we headed to Barcelona, where we arrived shortly after 8 p.m. Cramped legs and all, we hauled our stuff to our home for the next few months But our spirits were quickly lifted; the apartment is great, and we have settled in very nicely. After the inaugural grocery run today, the place is feeling like home already. We also hope to meet up with Tunji shortly, who has had a couple of days to settle in before our arrival.
That's all for now, time to practice our espanol. Buenas noches.
Despite a nearly missed flight to Madrid, we made it there safely and met up with the ISA crew. Petty bureaucratic meetings aside (which Gabe is still seething about I believe), the program is a good one. Our fellow students are nice, and we will no doubt be getting to know them better over the coming months. It also was a pleasant surprise that the girls appear to outnumber the guys by about a 2 to 1 ratio. Lucky us.
Onto Madrid, though. Although we didn't get enough time as we might have liked to explore the city due to the ISA schedule, we did see some great sights. Possibly the highlight was the Santa Cruz del Valle de los Caídos, where Francisco Franco is buried. Everything about the mountainside church is impressive, most notably the enormous monk statues- their bulging muscles, dark hooded cloaks and swords combine to form quite an imposing image. It was all we could do to resist from acting out some sort of epic Lord-of-the-Rings-esque sword fight in the church, but more on that later. Other Madrid sights included the King's palace and the museum that hosts Picasso's Guernica, also very impressive. The museum also had adequate bench space, always a plus.
Food here has been somewhat of an adventure. On night 1, we adopted the "leave it to chance" method with local tapas, and after attempting a cold anchovy sandwich (which the waiter found a curious order, now we know why), we found ourselves basking in the familiar glow of the golden arches. Forgive me, Mom and Dad. On night 2, we did considerably better, but the portions were just too small. Back to Mickey D's it was. Don't worry, from then on we stuck to our guns: cheese croquettes have quickly become a group favorite.
After Madrid we spent a couple of nights in Toledo, which was a blast. It's hard not to enjoy the scenery when you're surrounded by a medieval castle, even though our tour guide was less than inspired: he took his "bathroom break" to sit in the corner of a cafe and sip on some red wine. At 11:00 am. Will and I, however, were so taken in by the mood that we convinced ourselves to purchase real combat swords. Soon afterwards, we knighted each other and dueled to the death. No fair maidens yet, though. Another night worthy of mention was our somewhat sacrilegious time at a monastery bar- only in Toledo, I suppose.
After a rude awakening the next morning at 9 am, we headed to Barcelona, where we arrived shortly after 8 p.m. Cramped legs and all, we hauled our stuff to our home for the next few months But our spirits were quickly lifted; the apartment is great, and we have settled in very nicely. After the inaugural grocery run today, the place is feeling like home already. We also hope to meet up with Tunji shortly, who has had a couple of days to settle in before our arrival.
That's all for now, time to practice our espanol. Buenas noches.
Friday, August 29, 2008
When in Rome...
The original threesome – Pitch, Gabe, and I (Bobby) – arrived in the beautiful city of Rome on Tuesday. We tried our best not to get stiffed for the cab ride to our new place, but may not have succeeded. Our new place was a pleasant bed and breakfast with two rooms, a bathroom, and a small shared kitchen. After some conversation with our Man (the affectionate name given after having forgot his real name), the three musketeers hit the narrow streets of Trastevere in search of some authentic Italian cuisine. We settled on a small Pizzaria which successfully exceeded our big expectations. We decided to call it an early night, still recovering from Mykonos.
Our second day was marked by the arrival of our fourth member – William Edward Houston Harte. Finally, our quadrapod was complete. We celebrated with a subway to the colliseo station and a trek through the Museo Capitolini. The four of us, fit young men as we are, lasted only a short while as the endless standing, slow walking, and meticulous, academic analysis of each piece of ancient Roman sculpture finally wore us down. It was here that Pitch revealed his unique ability to find and rest on every bench in the Museum. After a quick, direct return to our place (due in large part to Will’s navigational expertise), we rested up and made plans for the night – dinner, a view of the Spanish steps, some evening recreation, and then sleep.
Day three brought us to the Coliseum. Built 2000 years ago, this wonder of the Ancient World was made famous by the 2001 Ridley Scott classic epic: Gladiator. Unfortunately we couldn’t find the marble statue of Russell Crowe, but managed some nice pictures as we reveled in the grandeur.
Tired from walking under the same blistering hot sun that made it no less difficult for the gladiators of late, we got some gelato and headed back. At night we found ourselves admiring the beauty of Rome’s... local culture.
On our final day of Roman site seeing, we set the early alarm (10 am) for a day trip to the Vatican. Plus one to the list of countries visited. The Museum was cool – we saw Michelangelo’s most famous painting, some massive sculptures, intricate mosaics, a bit of our buddy Salvador Dali’s work (more of that in Spain), and the inside of the Sistine Chapel. Then a trip into the humbling St. Peter’s Basilica, where we took an elevator then climbed 320 steps for an amazing view of the city (Will wanted to free climb the dome, assuring us it was a mere 5.12, but he forgot his chalk). And then we walked back down. Will and Gabe, ever the athletics, took the full 531 steps down (instead of waiting 15 seconds for the elevator). They found Pitch and I well rested and patiently waiting on the bottom floor. From the ground floor the inside of St. Peter’s basilica is quite a sight. Beautiful paintings cover the ceilings and walls while massive sculptures of saints loom over every corner. To top off the touring we stepped into the tombs of the Popes, noting specifically Pope John Paul II’s resting ground.
After a stop for a bit of mouth watering crème caramel gelato, we returned tired and sweaty to our beds. Now Will and Pitch, faithful to their upbringing, are on a journey to find the sword of St. Paul himself at the basilica. They’ll probably send a postcard to their school. Cool.
Tomorrow we leave for Madrid. And soon after to Barcelona.
Our second day was marked by the arrival of our fourth member – William Edward Houston Harte. Finally, our quadrapod was complete. We celebrated with a subway to the colliseo station and a trek through the Museo Capitolini. The four of us, fit young men as we are, lasted only a short while as the endless standing, slow walking, and meticulous, academic analysis of each piece of ancient Roman sculpture finally wore us down. It was here that Pitch revealed his unique ability to find and rest on every bench in the Museum. After a quick, direct return to our place (due in large part to Will’s navigational expertise), we rested up and made plans for the night – dinner, a view of the Spanish steps, some evening recreation, and then sleep.
Day three brought us to the Coliseum. Built 2000 years ago, this wonder of the Ancient World was made famous by the 2001 Ridley Scott classic epic: Gladiator. Unfortunately we couldn’t find the marble statue of Russell Crowe, but managed some nice pictures as we reveled in the grandeur.
Tired from walking under the same blistering hot sun that made it no less difficult for the gladiators of late, we got some gelato and headed back. At night we found ourselves admiring the beauty of Rome’s... local culture.
On our final day of Roman site seeing, we set the early alarm (10 am) for a day trip to the Vatican. Plus one to the list of countries visited. The Museum was cool – we saw Michelangelo’s most famous painting, some massive sculptures, intricate mosaics, a bit of our buddy Salvador Dali’s work (more of that in Spain), and the inside of the Sistine Chapel. Then a trip into the humbling St. Peter’s Basilica, where we took an elevator then climbed 320 steps for an amazing view of the city (Will wanted to free climb the dome, assuring us it was a mere 5.12, but he forgot his chalk). And then we walked back down. Will and Gabe, ever the athletics, took the full 531 steps down (instead of waiting 15 seconds for the elevator). They found Pitch and I well rested and patiently waiting on the bottom floor. From the ground floor the inside of St. Peter’s basilica is quite a sight. Beautiful paintings cover the ceilings and walls while massive sculptures of saints loom over every corner. To top off the touring we stepped into the tombs of the Popes, noting specifically Pope John Paul II’s resting ground.
After a stop for a bit of mouth watering crème caramel gelato, we returned tired and sweaty to our beds. Now Will and Pitch, faithful to their upbringing, are on a journey to find the sword of St. Paul himself at the basilica. They’ll probably send a postcard to their school. Cool.
Tomorrow we leave for Madrid. And soon after to Barcelona.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Efcharisto Mykonos!
While Mykonos may not be known for its architectural nor cultural history, we still managed to enjoy the walking, talking and sunbathing pieces of art it had to offer. But I am getting ahead of myself. Getting to the island and our hotel was a bit of an adventure. The plan was to board a ferry and voyage four hours to our destination. We got to the port easily, however we couldn’t find the ship. The map they gave us was utterly misleading. Our boat was supposed to be anchored at dock two, but why put dock two between docks one and three when it could easily be hidden behind some huge shipping warehouses a mile and a half way? This game of hide and seek meant that we ended up lugging our bags and swearing in the 95 degree heat for an unnecessary period of time. Finally though, Bobby, myself and one very pink and particularly angry James Lindsay the XVIII boarded our ship.
Thankfully, the ride was smooth and enjoyable. We sailed into Mykonos at night. It, as well as our hotel was beautiful. The white washed buildings scattered across the rugged landscape was everything we hoped to find for our romantic getaway. Once settled, we quickly established a routine: wake up around noon, walk into town to catch the bus to Paradise Beach, return to the hotel around 10pm, eat dinner, party until whenever. Mykonos is basically Europe’s version of Cancun except more glamorous. The beach was beautiful and people came to be seen. What shocked us the most was how everyone seemed to be nocturnal. Our own club superstars Pitch Lindsay and Robert Murphy managed to adapt flawlessly as they even managed to stay out until the sun came up on Monday morning. To hear a full account of that evening’s events please sign a copy of the non disclosure agreement or contact each sultan of suave separately.
Right now we are on our way to Rome. More to come soon.
P.S. we also met up with Dan for two days. Unfortunately due to a bad case of food poisoning Dan saw more of the toilet than us. We will have our fingers crossed and our noses plugged for his transatlantic flight tomorrow.
Thankfully, the ride was smooth and enjoyable. We sailed into Mykonos at night. It, as well as our hotel was beautiful. The white washed buildings scattered across the rugged landscape was everything we hoped to find for our romantic getaway. Once settled, we quickly established a routine: wake up around noon, walk into town to catch the bus to Paradise Beach, return to the hotel around 10pm, eat dinner, party until whenever. Mykonos is basically Europe’s version of Cancun except more glamorous. The beach was beautiful and people came to be seen. What shocked us the most was how everyone seemed to be nocturnal. Our own club superstars Pitch Lindsay and Robert Murphy managed to adapt flawlessly as they even managed to stay out until the sun came up on Monday morning. To hear a full account of that evening’s events please sign a copy of the non disclosure agreement or contact each sultan of suave separately.
Right now we are on our way to Rome. More to come soon.
P.S. we also met up with Dan for two days. Unfortunately due to a bad case of food poisoning Dan saw more of the toilet than us. We will have our fingers crossed and our noses plugged for his transatlantic flight tomorrow.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Our Big Fat Greek.. Sightseeing Day
One nearly missed flight, one lost bag (now recovered), and one hell of a time zone switch later, we have arrived safely in Athens. Bobby and I were forced to sweet-talk the JFK airline attendant into delaying the flight 10 minutes to let Gabe on, but of course his bag was not as lucky. It was an unpleasant 24 hours while we waited for it to arrive- not made any easier by Gabe's constant grumblings about the unstylishness of the clothes he was forced to borrow. But it is here now, so no harm no foul.
We have learned in our short time here that communication in Greek for us is impossible. We cannot even begin to pronounce the words, and so if English is not an option, we are reduced to hand signals, and even that is proving difficult- an open palm turned outward means "go to hell", we quickly discovered. Any given street appears to be a very complicated frat row- all store names are combinations of Kappas, Sigmas, Alphas, Omegas, etc- and we are used to just pronouncing the Greek letters, not forming them into words. As one might imagine, ordering at restaurants without English translations is also quite a gamble- we literally do not know what we ordered until it arrives. No monkey heads yet, thankfully.
For all the difficulties here, though, Athens is a nice city. The Acropolis is absolutely incredible- and will be even more so once the restoration project is completed. (A huge crane sticking out of the middle of the Parthenon looks slightly out of place.) A well-framed picture does the trick, though.
And what's a breathtaking Acropolis without a breathtaking mullet?
That's all for now- off to a well-earned dinner. Next stop, Mykonos.
We have learned in our short time here that communication in Greek for us is impossible. We cannot even begin to pronounce the words, and so if English is not an option, we are reduced to hand signals, and even that is proving difficult- an open palm turned outward means "go to hell", we quickly discovered. Any given street appears to be a very complicated frat row- all store names are combinations of Kappas, Sigmas, Alphas, Omegas, etc- and we are used to just pronouncing the Greek letters, not forming them into words. As one might imagine, ordering at restaurants without English translations is also quite a gamble- we literally do not know what we ordered until it arrives. No monkey heads yet, thankfully.
For all the difficulties here, though, Athens is a nice city. The Acropolis is absolutely incredible- and will be even more so once the restoration project is completed. (A huge crane sticking out of the middle of the Parthenon looks slightly out of place.) A well-framed picture does the trick, though.
And what's a breathtaking Acropolis without a breathtaking mullet?
That's all for now- off to a well-earned dinner. Next stop, Mykonos.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
The First of Many...
5 days to departure. I suppose this is an appropriate time to introduce the companions that might serve as helpful context for the stories to come.
MR. ROBERT C. MURPHY
was born and raised in Berkeley, California. A half-Asian by appearance, (half Irish, too), but an American through and through, Bobby went to high school in Berkeley, and, after much duress, decided to undertake the epic journey across the Bay to attend Stanford.
A freshman dorm-mate in Donner of Will Harte, Bobby was selected in the spring of '07 to join the illustrious Kappa Sigma Fraternity. Though his grades may have suffered because of it, the benefits of Bobby's fraternity life have far outweighed the drawbacks.
Bobby was a member of the Winter '08 END room along with Will and Pitch, to be introduced later, which certainly proved its worth as the epicenter of Kappa Sig social events for that quarter. Let us also not forget possibly Bobby's most important contribution to the house- a light-up dance stage, now considered a campus classic.
Bobby is also the group clubbing veteran- although in these foreign lands he will be upgrading to the big league clubs from his usual 18-and-up stomping grounds. It's about time.
Bobby's hobbies include math, computer programming, and general nerdiness. OK, not the latter, but the fact remains, he is damn smart.
MR. WILLIAM E. H. HARTE
hails from Portland, Maine. And Texas. But primarily Maine. Will, known to some as Mr. Boston for his always-impeccable New England wardrobe, went to elementary school in Portland, after which he made the transition to his neighboring state of New Hampshire to board at St. Paul's School. Unbeknownst to Will at the time, Pitch would also end up completing his studies at St. Paul's, and the two eventually found themselves pledging the same fraternity after matriculating to Stanford.
Will has a passion for all things rugged, as evidenced by his major choice of "Earth Systems." His summer job also speaks to this interest- this summer he is getting more in touch with nature as a camp hiking instructor, and is even missing the first leg of the trip in Athens and Mykonos to complete his duties. One unhappy client, however, has already submitted an evaluation calling attention to Will's "uppity attitude." Let us hope Will knows that in Spain, such uppityness will ensure swift consequences.
A definite drawback of the Catalan region for Will is its relatively flat landscape. Though the hikes in the nearby hills of Montserrat may be a pleasant challenge for some, these will prove a mere cakewalk for Will, a Kilimanjaro veteran. He may be forced into exploring opportunities in the European Alps to quench his infinite thirst for mountain adventure.
MR. GABRIEL (middle initial unknown) LUPIN
is a native San Diegan, and an expert in kook terminology. His Puerto Rican origins, though, help to explain the sole reason why Gabe was extended an invitation to this journey in the first place: the man speaks fluent Spanish. (Although Gabe will claim the trip was his idea).
Gabe stayed in San Diego for high school before joining the Stanford community. His freshman dorm was somewhat of a kookfest, and has certainly baked its share of kookies, but to its credit Soto has produced no less than 3 valuable members of the Kappa Sigma 2010 class.
Gabe's signature suave, Latino-west-coast-fusion persona is the epitome of style. No doubt he will be a force with whom to be reckoned in the discotecas and a quick study in the inevitable forthcoming flamenco lessons.
Gabe is also an avid lacrosse player, which may come as a surprise given his West Coast upbringing. Though he currently dons the Stanford uniform (and looks damn good in it), rumors abound that he is being recruited to inject much-needed youth and energy into the abysmal Spanish national lacrosse team (more info at http://www.spainlacrosse.com/ ). Check back soon for more updates on this.
MR. JAMES P. LINDSAY (Pitch)
is your most humble author for this, the first of many future blog entries, although he will continue to refer to himself in the third person for the purposes of continuity.
Pitch calls Long Island, New York, home; specifically the North Shore of the Island. Another graduate of the aforementioned St. Paul's School, Pitch took a year off before Stanford to spend several months of Argentina. Though his Spanish has deteriorated since then, he is optimistic that he has retained enough to ask the most basic of questions, such as "where is the bathroom?" or more importantly, "another cold one please, barkeep."
Pitch is also a die-hard sports fan, and has already invested in several (home and away) jerseys of one of the crown jewels of Spain's La Liga soccer division, FC Barcelona, or Barca. Pitch looks forward to attending as many games as possible, and especially to participating in the post-game massacres of the opposition's fans, a long-standing Barca tradition.
SCHEDULE OF EVENTS:
Depart tuesday night from JFK
Arrive Wednesday afternoon in Athens.
Updates from Greece soon to come.
MR. ROBERT C. MURPHY
was born and raised in Berkeley, California. A half-Asian by appearance, (half Irish, too), but an American through and through, Bobby went to high school in Berkeley, and, after much duress, decided to undertake the epic journey across the Bay to attend Stanford.
A freshman dorm-mate in Donner of Will Harte, Bobby was selected in the spring of '07 to join the illustrious Kappa Sigma Fraternity. Though his grades may have suffered because of it, the benefits of Bobby's fraternity life have far outweighed the drawbacks.
Bobby was a member of the Winter '08 END room along with Will and Pitch, to be introduced later, which certainly proved its worth as the epicenter of Kappa Sig social events for that quarter. Let us also not forget possibly Bobby's most important contribution to the house- a light-up dance stage, now considered a campus classic.
Bobby is also the group clubbing veteran- although in these foreign lands he will be upgrading to the big league clubs from his usual 18-and-up stomping grounds. It's about time.
Bobby's hobbies include math, computer programming, and general nerdiness. OK, not the latter, but the fact remains, he is damn smart.
MR. WILLIAM E. H. HARTE
hails from Portland, Maine. And Texas. But primarily Maine. Will, known to some as Mr. Boston for his always-impeccable New England wardrobe, went to elementary school in Portland, after which he made the transition to his neighboring state of New Hampshire to board at St. Paul's School. Unbeknownst to Will at the time, Pitch would also end up completing his studies at St. Paul's, and the two eventually found themselves pledging the same fraternity after matriculating to Stanford.
Will has a passion for all things rugged, as evidenced by his major choice of "Earth Systems." His summer job also speaks to this interest- this summer he is getting more in touch with nature as a camp hiking instructor, and is even missing the first leg of the trip in Athens and Mykonos to complete his duties. One unhappy client, however, has already submitted an evaluation calling attention to Will's "uppity attitude." Let us hope Will knows that in Spain, such uppityness will ensure swift consequences.
A definite drawback of the Catalan region for Will is its relatively flat landscape. Though the hikes in the nearby hills of Montserrat may be a pleasant challenge for some, these will prove a mere cakewalk for Will, a Kilimanjaro veteran. He may be forced into exploring opportunities in the European Alps to quench his infinite thirst for mountain adventure.
MR. GABRIEL (middle initial unknown) LUPIN
is a native San Diegan, and an expert in kook terminology. His Puerto Rican origins, though, help to explain the sole reason why Gabe was extended an invitation to this journey in the first place: the man speaks fluent Spanish. (Although Gabe will claim the trip was his idea).
Gabe stayed in San Diego for high school before joining the Stanford community. His freshman dorm was somewhat of a kookfest, and has certainly baked its share of kookies, but to its credit Soto has produced no less than 3 valuable members of the Kappa Sigma 2010 class.
Gabe's signature suave, Latino-west-coast-fusion persona is the epitome of style. No doubt he will be a force with whom to be reckoned in the discotecas and a quick study in the inevitable forthcoming flamenco lessons.
Gabe is also an avid lacrosse player, which may come as a surprise given his West Coast upbringing. Though he currently dons the Stanford uniform (and looks damn good in it), rumors abound that he is being recruited to inject much-needed youth and energy into the abysmal Spanish national lacrosse team (more info at http://www.spainlacrosse.com/ ). Check back soon for more updates on this.
MR. JAMES P. LINDSAY (Pitch)
is your most humble author for this, the first of many future blog entries, although he will continue to refer to himself in the third person for the purposes of continuity.
Pitch calls Long Island, New York, home; specifically the North Shore of the Island. Another graduate of the aforementioned St. Paul's School, Pitch took a year off before Stanford to spend several months of Argentina. Though his Spanish has deteriorated since then, he is optimistic that he has retained enough to ask the most basic of questions, such as "where is the bathroom?" or more importantly, "another cold one please, barkeep."
Pitch is also a die-hard sports fan, and has already invested in several (home and away) jerseys of one of the crown jewels of Spain's La Liga soccer division, FC Barcelona, or Barca. Pitch looks forward to attending as many games as possible, and especially to participating in the post-game massacres of the opposition's fans, a long-standing Barca tradition.
SCHEDULE OF EVENTS:
Depart tuesday night from JFK
Arrive Wednesday afternoon in Athens.
Updates from Greece soon to come.
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