Barcelona, our first full day begins...

 La rambala!!!!! So this is a crazy crazy street through Barcelona where the street performers put American street performers to shame.. and you are always marginally worried you'll be pick-pocketed. Really its chaos, supper busy, and it is fantastic. We started our day here and the pictures don't do it too much justice. Rambla comes from the Spanish and Catalan word Ramla meaning water flow. Back in the day it was an open sewer. It has come a long way to become one of the most famous streets in the world.

 Below are several photos from Boqueria Market Barcelona. The Market represented an extension of the chaos of the street. Very busy it used to be the market to go to for food in Barcelona, however it has become more of a tourist attraction over time... but I mighty fine one, that can fool people into thinking that they are seeing something authentic.

 Mmmmmm Seafood! Kate would have been making a face.

 To finish this rather simplistic post of our morning being Ramblistas... Me with a Dunkin Donuts Iced Coffee.... Yeah baby! Coffee Americana as they called it... oh did it ever hit the spot. I do like European coffee... its really nice, thick, tasty... but it was warm, and I was sooooo in need of this guilty pleasure. They made it all wrong, but it was still good anyway (hot coffee poured over ice). Stay tuned as we continue our exploration!

Catalonia! Arriving in Barcelona

Our plane landed in the early evening and we found our way easily from a beautiful airport which seemed very new, to the commuter rail station, which was essentially a heavy-rail subway car tied into Barcelona's transit hub.We had a little difficulty being certain we were getting on the right train, but eventually we found someone who spoke some broken English. Spain generally does not have as many English speaking people as other places I've been in Europe, but eventually you can always find someone who knows a little. Knowing a few words in Spanish, or Catalonian can also get you quite a bit, as it isn't so foreign from our own language that you feel helpless.

 Barcelona is the largest city in the Catalonia region of Spain, which they speak a unique language, Catalonian, which has substantial differences from Spanish. During the fascist rule of Franco, the Catalonians were heavily oppressed. Prior to heading on this trip I read "Homage to Barcelona" by an Irish transplant Colm Toibin, who actually lived through a lot of the tumultuous changes that occurred in this city. He drew heavily upon his experiences, touched upon the seedy underworld, which still is present, talked about the how it is a city built upon revolutions, and intertwined the distant history to the more recent events such as the Olympics. I highly recommend it to anyone that visits, or just wants to learn more about this exotic city, and get a glimpse into another culture.

We stayed at a small hostel, which in Spain, it often means what Americans think of as a Bed & Breakfast. I paid extra to get a room with a private bathroom, despite this the room was still very affordable and the location could not be beat, as it is right on the edge of the old city. Hostal Residencia Australia was the name of our hotel. Kate rushed to check out the channels on the TV. Sadly there were no English channels (I didn't really care myself) although I think she did find this episode of the Simpsons with subtitles. I believe some of the channels were in Catalonian and others in Spanish. One night we did find some dry movie in English, I think it was "The Accidental Tourist". Good for putting you to sleep. The room was great other than thin walls. The owner Thomas lived in the back of the floor, and one evening we got a knock on the door asking us to turn the television down. We had actually been making a concerted effort to be quiet after reading reviews of this very scenario- ironically our version of quiet and Thomas's were not mutual. I think the problem was that we had the window open, and had turned the volume up a little to hear over the drone of the traffic.

Thomas, was a very friendly & interesting guy, just like all of the reviews said. I don't know if he found us dull, or if he was preoccupied and tired, but I felt his friendliness seemed a little fake and forced at times. Notably he'd start a conversation, only to end it abruptly. I guess that is to be expected, as I'm sure the job gets tiring at times.

The rooms as you can see were quite gorgeous. I really liked the furniture, and there was a great balcony that opened out to the street. I liked the tiny bathroom, and the elaborate, Mediterranean print on the tiles. We had a little issue with the toilet running, but it was a small problem in the grander scheme of things.

 The balcony, I should have taken a picture during the daylight, as this first one is too dark, and the second is too blurry given that I suck at taking night photos, as you need quite a steady hand... and Shakes McGee here just doesn't have what it takes.

 After settling in we went out and got some supper. We were tired from the travel so we just walked over to the nearby Gran Via de les Corts Catalanes, a very busy street and then connected to Passeig de Gracia which is home to several architectural gems, including one from one of Barcelona's most famous artists, Gaudi. This building is Casa Batllo (last two... less than wonderful night time pictures). I'll revisit this later in our journey, regretfully we didn't go inside. We got our grub on Passeig de Gracia, it was touristy, al fresco, tapas at a place called (drum roll) Tapas Tapas. It was easy, and we were both happy. I had some seafood, Kate, various potato and meat products. We shared several mutual dishes. I tried turning Kate on to paella, but was unsuccessful.

 To rid Kate of any lingering weirdness of the Tapas, we went to McCafe, per Kate's request and got desert.

We headed back to our hostel, excited in anticipation of exploring the city the next day.

Back to Amsterdam

 I really enjoy this sign above. It really sums Amsterdam up, yes, ride your bike, yes smoke your weed... but no public drinking... at least not in this playground. Nice.

 This was a holocaust memorial (above) which was part of an interesting museum detailing the impact of the occupation on the Jews of Amsterdam. Very tragic. It was right down the street from our hotel, and it had been closed when we were in town previously, so it was good to take some time to remind us of the horrors of the past, how good we have it, and how we need to preserve that.

Above, Anne Frank statue. The Anne Frank house is a must see. It made me tear up, and I don't see how you can't after watching what people went through, watching her relatives, reading what she wrote, her hopes and dreams, and hearing her father comment on the symbol that she had become for people. A must see.

So, (below) notice the helmets on the riders (or lack there of). Not even the kiddos need helmets. Amsterdam's a bit weird. Where they arguably might have some more social engineering, in many ways they are substantially more "free" or libertarian than the "Land of the Free" the US, from the legal prostitution, or the lack of enforcement of drug laws. Additionally, the ADA, that in the US would prevent a business from locating upstairs, or in a basement with a narrow entrance where one has to climb or bend over, does not impede upon European business. It seems that some aspect of American politics want to combine the bad aspects of Europe and the US, and sustain it here for the good of all of us reckless citizens. That makes me sad.

 Sweet digs below.

Grocery store. Provider of late night snacks so we could watch our couple of English TV channels with some goodies.

Super Dickman's?? That's what these chocolate marshmallow goodies below were called in Germany. Sadly I can't remember the name in Amsterdam... nothing cool like a "Super Dickman." You can get these in the US, but they aren't as big or tasty.... so much for that myth that they don't have cheaply available sugar loaded junk food in Europe. I call BS.

Above is a view of the Bejinhof (a monastery) in Amsterdam. Kate and I had tried coming here previously but it was closed. They didn't allow photos inside the compound because sisters still live there. No one was abiding to the rule, however I couldn't bring myself to participate in the vulgar touristy behavior.

Typical Amsterdam head shop. A bit more blunt (pun intended? than the typical shop in the US, at least those outside of San Francisco)

This cafe near the Anne Frank house was the last place Kate and I ate in Amsterdam before heading back to our quaint hotel with its crooked steep stairs. It was directly on a canal. I had a mozzarella, basil and tomato sandwich on a baguette. It was nice.

 Below is the outside of the Anne Frank museum. The facade of the original house is obscured by this front. It is a little odd, however since their residence would have had blacked out, curtained windows during the occupation, I suppose it is rather symbolic.

And below here I am at London-Heathrow airport which was our transfer en route to Barcelona. The best thing about that meal were those diet carbonated beverages. What is it that Europeans have against a fine fake hamburger establishment in an airport? I would have been happy with an Au Bon Pain, and that is saying something. Even the banana was probably better than the poor excuse for a sandwich (which probably cost me $15 after the exchange). Blecch. Well soon we'd be in Barcelona and at least I (can't speak for Kate) would enjoy the tapas.

Bruges: Returning for the Night

Back in Bruges for the evening, what would be our last evening in this medieval town. Bruges is best at night, haunting, beautiful, sort of a romantic adventure. The few pictures that I have don't even begin to do it justice. See some of my earlier posts for better evening pictures. We roamed around the town, and had some supper, and I just decided to put up a few of the pictures taken then as a refresher.

I had wanted to finish the blog entries for this trip quite a long time ago. Kate and I went on this journey now over a year prior. Our lives have been busy with work and school and various other distractions that kept me from this enjoyable & narcissistic task. Kate appreciates these, because it sort of preserves the trip for posterity. It's too bad that I waited so long, because my memories are certain to be a bit foggy at this point.

 Below is one of Bruges many chocolate shops. This one was particularly interesting because they seemed to have a fecal fetish (see picture).

 Giant chocolate mouse, probably taking a giant chocolate dump. Yum.

 Above, I decided to do the touristy thing and have a big cauldron of mussels and fries, and of course a couple of Belgian Ales. Kate had a nice chicken dish and can be seen grinning out of the darkness. This meal was much better than the ridiculous Pizza Hut meal that we had the night before. For the life of me I don't remember what the names of my Belgian Ales were, I should have kept a notepad. Below, I picked up a couple bottles of beer to take back to the hotel room. I was looking decidedly more toasted here than I actually was. (although clearly I did not apply enough sun block). I was pretty exhausted after many kilometers of walking through the abandoned North Sea tourist towns and sea walks.

In the morning we began our journey back to Amsterdam where we would have another day before heading to Barcelona. Our Bruges Hotel, The Hotel Europ, is seen center above. I'd recommend it to anyone who doesn't want to stay in a hostel, but doesn't need a large American style suite. They had a great complimentary breakfast, and the rooms were very welcoming, with a touch of old styling. The price of course was right. They did have bigger canal facing rooms that cost more, but Kate and I figured we'd spend little time in the room, and most of our time exploring.

Amsterdam entry coming soon: Anne Frank house, and some more roaming.