Unfortunately, Jackie and I couldn’t get a train until later afternoon out of London on the Eurostar, and for an outrageously expensive price that I’d rather not even mention, we also had to stop in Brussels where we had to hope we could catch a local train to Amsterdam.  To make the adventure even more fun, we nearly missed our train to Brussels after waiting in a line to try to get our train from Brussels to Amsterdam purchased ahead of time, and then discovered our entire train to Brussels was chalk full of Tommorrowland goers.  We didn’t arrive to Amsterdam until around 8:00 p.m., where we showed up exhausted and starving.  We were greeted by my dad, who was uncontrollably giggling, and my step mom who almost ran into the glass door of the hotel. I was overjoyed to finally reunite with my pops after having not seen him for a month.  Though, on this journey, with every happy reunion came a sad departure, as my first night in Amsterdam was Jackie’s final night with me.  We lived it up in Amsterdam for one final girls night out hurrah, and even though I was missing my other half, I thoroughly loved Amsterdam in all its coffee shop, bike riding, beautiful Nordic people glory.

Highlights and moments:

-Dinner at Le Bouf.  I didn’t know what to expect of Amsterdam cuisine, but boy was I pleasantly surprised.  Being the queen of contradiction, I love salad and I love French fries.  Amsterdam is all about this counteractive meal choice as well!  Every menu I saw featured a beautiful salad selection, and all salads came with French fries.  Jackie and I split a gnocchi appetizer, which I am still dreaming about, and then merrily devoured our salads and frites, feeling somewhat healthy and somewhat over indulgent at the same time. We caught up with my dad, step mom who is also named Jackie, and my step sister and her fiancé who were with us for part of the next leg of my journey.

-Bar mini-crawling with Jackie on her last night. Though I’ve never been to New Orleans, we bar hopped on a street that reminded me of what I imagine Bourbon Street looking like- rows of various bars with loud music and live music, colorful lights, and intoxicated people stumbling and weaving. We went to a cool hole-in-the-wall jazz bar first, and then had a little too much to drink at a loud dance-friendly bar full of travelers and locals alike, all looking far younger than us.  Jackie and I danced our little hearts out, simultaneously living in the moment while also trying to block out the fact that she had to leave the next day.

-Visiting the Van Gogh Museum.  I love Van Gogh, and even though Starry Night is not housed in this museum, it’s a beautiful museum with a technology enhanced audio guide.

-Running through Vondel Park.  Amsterdam may be one of the most active cities I’ve ever visited.  There are hardly any cars, everyone bikes.  I saw a woman decked out in a cocktail dress and stilettos hop on her bicycle and be on her merry way.  Vondel Park runs through the middle of the city and its an endless stretch of paths, open fields, small ponds, outdoor concert venues, outdoor cafes, and benches.  I’ve never seen a green space utilized by so many people all at once.  It’s hard to escape the ever present smell of marijuana, which I don’t partake in, but don’t mind the smell of, so that was a unique addition to my run through the park.

-The red light district.  After having been to Vegas countless times, the red light district truly seemed like nothing to gawk at. I was glad we saw it, because it’s certainly different and interesting, but on the surface, I didn’t find it drastically different from the scantily clad cocktail waitresses and go-go dancers that parade around the casinos and clubs in Vegas.  Of course, when I saw a “client” enter one of the rooms and the black curtains draw to a close, then I recognized just how different the spectacle is from anywhere else in the world.

All in all, I’d really like to return to Amsterdam for a longer period of time.  I loved its liberal and active vibe, and I surprisingly loved the food. 

Jackie and I had both already been to London before, and both remembered it fondly. We loved seeing the classic Peter Pan sites by day, and sopping up the pub life by night. This time around was not as enchanting a visit for me, but perhaps this had to do with the fact that the expenses were on my dime and not my dear ole dad’s. Jackie and I learned about the Eurostar the hard way, so prospective travelers be advised! The train into and out of London, the Eurostar, is not covered by the Eurail pass if you purchase last minute and it is highly necessary to book your Eurostar ticket in advance as the seats fill up rapidly. Additionally, purchasing tickets for these trains seems to be much like purchasing plane tickets, the further out you book, the less expensive they may be. You can use your Eurail pass if you book at least a few days in advance. I, however, had chosen to not pre-book any of my train travel for my journey, seeking flexibility. If you’re planning to include London on your itinerary, don’t make my same mistake- book your Eurostar ticket in advance. I ended up paying $500 to get into and out of London… takes the cheery right out of cheerio, doesn’t it? I don’t want to sound negative here, but for the sake of travel reflection, in hindsight, I would have removed London from the itinerary entirely. London is a fabulous destination, but I don’t think it belonged on my whirlwind, budget-conscious itinerary. Alternatively, if I kept London on the itinerary, again in hindsight, I would have had us arrive on a weekend. Visiting London during the week did not allow us to truly experience the nightlife to the fullest, and I felt as if the city work-week hustle-bustle created a less amicable vibe. Okay, somewhat negative reflection aside, Jackie and I had a wonderful two full days in London. We stayed at a lovely inn called the Balham Lodge, which was incredibly affordable and included a well-stocked breakfast. Balham is on Bedford Hill which is a bit of a hike from the main attractions in the city, but the Tube is so easy and accessible that nothing seemed all too distant. We revisited the sites that inspired us the last time we visited, but we also made sure to incorporate some new activities and exploration as well.

  
Highlights and moments:

-Afternoon tea at Sketch. Though we struggled to find it on foot, we decided to pretend we were rich for the day and got afternoon tea at a place I had read about online called Sketch. Sketch is a whimsical blend of art, sophistication, a bit of the avant-garde, as well as classic English dining. We were greeted by incredibly good looking staff members who whisked us away to a baby pink domed dining room with blush pink velvet booths dressed in dainty pink table cloths, all topped with tiers of pastries and tea sandwiches. We dined like queens, and sipped tea as best we knew how, which we discovered was an affair that felt rather foreign. The bathroom was also quite an experience. It was completely white, making you feel like you were suspended in air, as you couldn’t make out the floor from the ceiling. A recording of frogs croaking, cicadas buzzing, and a 1960’s astronaut counting down random numbers haunts you as you enter an egg shaped pod enclosure to urinate. It made me feel hot and dizzy, but it was unique!

  
-Reuniting with our good friend from JMU at Las Iguanas. About four years ago, our close friend from James Madison University met herself a lovely British bloke in D.C. The two fell madly in love, got married, and rode off into the sunset to begin their life together as husband and wife in London. Though their happily ever after was a sad loss for Virginia, we now have our own lady of London to call up when we make our way across the pond. Lauren, who we still call by her last name, “Mawn”, regardless of her new married name, met us at St. Pancras Station and took us out to Las Iguanas, a lively Latin flavor bar and grill. We caught up, laughed, and reminisced about the glory days, as well as the humiliating days of the past. We missed our girl and hope to see her back in VA soon.

  
-Strolling through St. James Park. Jackie and I enjoyed a leisurely stroll through beautiful St. James park where we found countless gaggles of men and business women, fully decked out in pencil skirts and suits, sprawled out on the grass picnicking (quite different from the states where we all too often shovel it in desk side). Jackie and I walked all day long: past Big Ben and Parliament, Westminster Abbey, over the Thames and into Southwark, past The Globe, and into the Burough Market. I remembered loving this market when I visited last summer, but this time around it seemed a little bit dinky. Maybe it was a bit lackluster after experiencing Mercato Central in Valencia, La Boqueria market in Barcelona, and the St. Remy of Provence market, or it also could have been because we came on a weekday. Regardless, Jackie and I savored a very budget friendly street food lunch, and picked up some final needed souvenirs.

   
    
    
   
-Dinner with my mom and step dad at Santini’s, and a jazz bar night cap. My mom had parted ways with us on the 18th to meet her husband, Joe, in London for a week-long English holiday. We met them at their majestic hotel, The St. Ermin’s, and had a drink before heading to Santini’s, a fine dining Italian restaurant recommended by their concierge. Santini’s was top notch. We relished a merry reunion with mom, caught up with Joe, befriended our neighboring table mates, and devoured rich and elegant Italian cuisine on Santini’s romantically lit back patio.

   
   

After traveling to Paris for a few days with my family last summer, I didn’t feel an aching to return.  I know that sounds ludicrous, but I’m more of a smaller town kind of girl, and after our family had spent time in quaint French villages, Paris’s hustle-bustle came quite as a shock.  However, I included it on Jackie and my itinerary because, well, it’s Paris, you can’t very well traverse the railways of France and skip Paris. But I also included it because I wanted to give it a second chance to see if maybe I would fall in love with everyone’s foreign city crush.  Surely enough, this time around, I fell madly in love with Paris.  Perhaps it was a self-fulfilling prophecy, or perhaps it was because I had spent most of my journey thus far in cities and therefore I developed a fonder appreciation for them.  Regardless, Jackie and I were overwhelmed by the beauty of this city the second we set foot off the train platform.  Though we did not arrive until around 7 p.m., and though our Air B and B was so closet-sized that the sink was in fact the top of the toilet (yup, just like in prison), we had a magical 12 hours in The City of Light.

Highlights and moments:

-Eating escargot at Café Central on Rue Cler.  I had dined at this café with my family the previous summer and loved it.  Rue Cler is, I’m sure known to Parisians as the most touristy street, but to a tourist, it’s an enchanting, pedestrian-only street clad with cafes and an open-air market.  Jackie and I wanted to sample some authentic French cuisine, so we bravely ordered the escargot and, though it does have a rather rubbery texture, were delighted! The sauce they were drenched in was good enough to bathe in.

-Walking under the Eiffel Tower and along the Seine River. I don’t think it matters how many times you’ve seen the Eiffel Tower in person, it will never cease to amaze you.  Jackie and I began our walk through Paris at the “golden hour” when the sunlight is just beginning to set, dipping clouds and building tops in a rose gold hue.  We watched the lights come on the Tower, and the contrast of the larger-than-life golden structure against the dark blue sky was stunning.  Jackie and I kept lamenting the fact that not a single one of our photographs truly did the city justice, everywhere we looked was immeasurable beauty.

-Learning to salsa dance on the Seine.  Per a recommendation from a friend who used to live in Paris, we went into a “barge” bar of which I have sadly forgotten the name.  Being a barge, the bar was directly on the beautiful Seine River, illuminated by both neon pink and twinkling white lights.  French bass pumping house music entranced the predominantly local crowd.  Two high-energy French guys who were enjoying a prolonged post-work happy hour approached us, or I should really say bounced and waltzed up to us.  They were very funny and very enthusiastic about Paris; they could not fathom the fact that we were only spending one night in their beloved city.  Even after clearing the air and breaking it to them that we were both in long-term relationships, they continued to entertain us just the same. Both of them were like pinballs, bouncing from one “Frenchglish” conversation with us, then off to the dance floor to jump around with other locals, then back to us to try again to speak English as best they could.  Some sort of Salsa/French fusion song came on and they enlisted us in our first ever attempt at salsa dancing, which ended up being a hysterical display. Just before midnight we bid our friends adieu and decided to walk the whole way back to our Air B and B.  It was about a 30-40 minute walk, but the night air felt refreshing, and since our room was directly off of it, we could take the Champs Elysee all the way back.  That walk home was one of my favorite strolls of my entire journey.  Every Roman, Medieval, Renaissance, and Classical building was illuminated by soft, glowing light, all casting impressionistic sparkles on the Seine. Jackie and I were walking across one of the many glowing bridges, and we both had to pause and spin slowly to take in our fictional panorama.  “Everywhere you look is…beauty,” Jackie said with exasperation.  “I’m…having a moment!” she continued. Giggling, we linked arms and trotted our way back to our cell, I mean B and B room ;).

I’ll go ahead and reiterate what I preached in a previous post: it’s often better to travel somewhere with either low or non-existent expectations, you will almost always be positively blown away.  I had heard mixed reviews on Nice; some said it was fun, while the majority told me it was tacky, touristy, and dirty and that we’d be better off taking day trips to Cannes, Ez, or Monaco.  I am sure those coastal town jewels encrusting the crown of the French Riviera would be gorgeous and sophisticated, albeit pretentious and unaffordable. Jackie and I LOVED Nice, and it has landed in my top five favorite list of the whole journey.  Nice is an interesting blend of French and Italian.  After the Romans, Nice was a part of the Savoy House of Northern Italy, and between the 13^th and 17^th centuries Nice was jockeyed back and forth as an Italian region and then as  a French region. Finally in 1860 when Italy was unifying into one Kingdom of Italy, it is said that Nice was given the opportunity to vote to become a part of the Kingdom of Italy or to be French.  Though the legitimacy of this vote is debated, the results were clear: Nice remained French.  Nice has a riveting history, an eternally summer spirit, an enchanting old town, and a young and wild nightlife.  Everything is walking distance, unless you want to venture to a different beach or town of course, but Jackie and I saw no need to leave, Nice had everything two beach loving best friends could ever want in a vacation.

*Recommendation: If you’re looking for a budget friendly hotel with good service and a great location, we stayed in Hotel Star.  Though our room’s air conditioner was broken during our stay, it does have AC! Our receptionist, who was fluent in about three or four languages, comped us our breakfasts for the dysfunctional AC unit.

Highlights and moments:

– A long leisurely European lunch at a café within the flower market.  With a few hours to kill until our room would be ready, we took our time walking to get lunch.  Just adjacent to our hotel side street, full of upscale bistros, was the main street, Avenue Jean Medecin, which takes you to Place Massena, Nice’s main square.  Pedestrian friendly Avenue Jean Medecin is full of commercial retailers, but Place Messena is beautiful.  Lining the square are seven statues on tall posts that almost look like Buddha’s sitting cross-legged. The seven statues actually represent the seven continents, and at night, when all the statues are illuminated and change colors, the color transformation represents the various languages in our world and the communication between our diverse communities within various societies.  At first I thought the statues seemed out of place, but after learning their significance, I thought they were pretty awesome.  A checkerboard of black and white squares of sidewalk revolves around the square’s focal point, a fountain topped by a larger than life, and buck naked, Apollo.  Behind the fountain are marble stairs that lead to the Promenade des Anglais, a four-mile-long seaside path paved entirely in marble.  We walked to the left of the Apollo fountain and entered Cours Saleya.  At the beginning of Cours Saleya we found the flower market, which actually used to be France’s largest flower supplier.  We chose the first café we saw within this flower market and grabbed an outdoor table.  Though touristy and overpriced because it was touristy, we gabbed, ate, drank a couple of glasses of vin blanc, and people watched for a few hours.  When we finally made it back to our hotel to get into our room, we bounded up the stairs, turned on all the fans in the room, and without speaking, fully clothed, both plopped on top of the beds and passed out for three or more hours.

-Pub crawling through Nice. Prior to our unintentional siesta, we had e-mailed a few tour companies, hoping to plan our activities last minute for our next couple of days.  One of those companies was an organized pub crawl.  It was a Saturday night and we knew we wanted to experience Nice’s nightlife, so we figured a pub crawl would be a great way to meet other travelers from various walks of life and to also have someone knowledgeable pick the best bars for us (Jackie and I are both detestable decision makers). Our pub crawl took us to two amazing, hole-in-the-wall bars that we loved, and then two that were a bit too clubby for our taste.  Regardless, we had a blast and met such interesting characters!  Most notably, we met a very sweet New Zealander who looked identical to my boyfriend, a fun-loving group of girls from the states, an energetic couple from Germany, a gaggle of beer guzzling German girls, a super friendly couple of Swiss girls, and a fun trio of Italian guys who tried fecklessly to speak English with us. At about the halfway point through the crawl, one of the guides who picked on us a bit because we were a bit coy at the start, selected me to “help him” with a game. Little did I know, he had chosen me to start the simple little ice breaker of crowd surfing!  Before I could protest and back out I was belly up, arms up, being passed from one fellow pub crawler to the next, as they all sat cross-legged in a conga line in the middle of Place Massena.  I surely needed a drink after that one! We didn’t end the night until 5 a.m., which impressed us since at home we usually prefer nights spent watching Bravo TV and drinking wine with a 1 a.m. lights out.  We spent the last hour or two of our night on the beach with what looked like the rest of Nice’s 20-something population, talking and laughing with new friends and relishing the freedom to admire the Mediterranean during hours in which we’d never be allowed to loiter on the beach in the states.

-Our bike tour with Nice Cycle Tours.  After relaxing on chaise lounges (you pay for them through the restaurants that reside on the beach- around 15-16 euro for the whole day) on the beach for a few hours, we met up with our bike tour group for a 2-3 hour bike tour through all of Nice’s main sights. Our tour guide, Thelma, was a tiny, beautiful Irish mom of two.  Thelma taught us volumes about the city of Nice, the place she feels so fortunate to have called home for the past 12 years.  Our group of eight consisted of two Irish friends on a week-long holiday, an Australian couple, and two young Canadian girls doing a trip quite similar to my seven-week-long journey. Everyone was extremely friendly and handled the bikes pretty well.  We cautiously navigated our way through the Old City, full of Italian-French charm and packed densely with a layered history.  We then biked all along the Promenade des Anglais, stopping at various points to learn about the different hotels along the seafront and the Promenade’s evolution throughout time.  After the Promenade we made our way to the Castle Hill, the most strenuous portion of the tour, where we had to bike up a rather steep and winding hill for what felt like a full 15 minutes.  At the summit, we were handsomely rewarded with the best view of the entire city.  Looking out with my best friend at the sparkling expanse of sea that met the flavorful city of old and new sealed the deal, I was in love with Nice.  I highly recommend taking a bike tour of Nice, it’s a great way to get some exercise, learn about Nice’s unique history, meet new people, and explore the city in a special way.

-Singing (or screaming I should say) along to the amazing cover band with hundreds of sweaty backpackers at Wayne’s Bar.  Thelma had pointed out Wayne’s Bar to us and said, “If you’re looking for a really good, authentic French place…don’t go here.” Surely enough, Wayne’s Bar was a make-no-apologies-about-it, backpacker bar.  I’ve never smelled worse body odor in my life, but the 90’s cover band was worth the nausea! We learned that most of the crowd was from Australia on some extended bus-tour journey through all of Europe.  After Wayne’s Bar we went to a cool bar with live music and Elvis impersonators.

Mom, Jackie, and I were originally slated to stay one night in St. Remy, one night in Arles, one night in Gordes, and one night in Aix-En-Provence, however, once we saw our beautiful bed and breakfast in St. Remy, called Canto Cigalo, we made the team decision to cancel the Arles and Gordes Air B and B’s and to reserve our rooms at Canto for two additional nights.  This was a wonderful decision, it felt liberating to know we were basing out of one place for longer than 24 hours.  The reason I had booked us nights in each different town was so that we could get a full flavor of each Provencal town, but this can certainly be achieved through day trips. I strongly recommend basing out of one Provencal town and renting a car.

As a general overview, Provence is everything you’d expect it to be: rural, pastoral, quaint, and sophisticated.  St. Remy is a perfect town to base out of, as it has an adorable town, a bounty of 3-5 star hotels, and a quintessential Provencal market on Wednesdays. In a Rick Steves podcast I listened to prior to arriving in Provence, his guest speaker spoke to the ceaseless buzz of the cicadas in Provence. It truly is a sound that captures Provence’s ambiance and for some, myself included, its appeal.

Before I break down the highlights and moments of each Provencal town we visited, I want to provide a few lessons learned.  Mom, Jackie, and I figured we could enjoy visiting wineries the same way we enjoy them in Virginia or California: a tasting of various wines from various grapes in a rustic, consumer-friendly tasting room, followed by a long picnic.  In Provence however, they do not seem to exploit the wine tasting experience as much as we Americans do.  After getting lost ample times on back country roads, that often looked to us like dead ending running paths, we found two different wineries.  At the first one we were greeted by a somewhat friendly, but highly disinterested staff member, I should hardly think she was a sommelier or vintner of any kind, and she seemed surprised by our request to taste wines.  The only people in there and probably the only people for miles, we stood in the lobby of a two story farmhouse type structure and sipped in silence a sample of whatever white she had in the mini fridge.  She said nothing and offered us nothing more.  We bought a bottle of that white and were then on our way.  The next winery we visited was a far better experience, but only because our pourer was a friendly, fluent English speaker (by the way, he said he learned his impeccable English simply by watching American movies), and son of the winery owner.  The experience itself was very similar to the first, where wine tasting niceties found in the states were non-existent, and we had to request specifically what we wanted to try.  All in all, do not make the mistake we did in thinking there would be wineries beckoning all along the country roads in Provence.  Though we certainly enjoyed our fair bit of fabulous wines in Provence, wineries are a bit trickier to find than expected, and they do not advertise the same type of entertainment experience as we have in the states. I am sure if we had booked some type of wine tour, the experience would have been different.  Another lesson learned in Provence: don’t go thinking you can bike ride from town to town.  This was another misconception I had, but after driving through, I quickly realized the ridiculously hilly terrain is simply not conducive for an enjoyable, leisurely ride.  Sure, if you’re training for a mountainous triathlon or perhaps the Tour de France, biking from town to town in Provence would be an idyllic playground for you, but for those who don’t take themselves seriously on a bike and who are seeking an easy ride just to take in nature more intimately, don’t expect to go far.  Renting bikes is certainly a feasible feat within the towns of Provence. And one final lesson learned: when returning a rental car in Provence, don’t expect your rental car company attendant to come out and greet you and inspect the car. After getting ourselves despairingly lost for over an hour trying to find the train station where we needed to return the car, we had to circle around twice, maybe three times, and nearly got in two, maybe three accidents trying to figure out where exactly to park the car for return.  Fortunately, I was able to run in and wearily ask for help from an extremely kind and understanding attendant who assured me that we were not the only ones who had experienced quite a misadventure finding them.  Oh, and one final thing: expect to get lost multiple times in Provence! If you’ve turned off your cell phone data and are solely relying on maps and a rental car GPS in need of a software update, you’ll surely get confused by the countless “rotaries” and back country roads.  But hey, it’s all part of the adventure!  Just make sure you’re in good company like I was J.

Highlights and moments:

In and around St. Remy

-The St. Remy market.  I had planned our stay in St. Remy so that we would wake up on market day, Wednesday.  The center of town was a short, but hilly 5-7 minute walk from Canto Cigalo.  The market was exactly what I had envisioned: stalls and stalls of fresh flowers, fresh herbs and teas, cured meats, lavender products, soaps, baskets, linen clothing, cheeses, dips and tapenades, jewelry, and hats.  We all were starving so we stopped at the first stall we found and each got a carton of freshly cooked herbed potatoes.  We sat on the steps of the main square church, eating our potatoes, and feasting our eyes on the radiant spectrum of goods, foods, and people.  We shopped until we ran out of euros and our arms were laden with multiple bags.

-The Carrieres de Lumieres in Les Baux. Just a 10-15 minute drive from St. Remy is Les Baux, a lovely medieval village, known for its beautiful setting within the Alpilles mountains, its ruined castle, and its Carrieres de Lumieres- caves where moving (both emotionally and literally) art, synchronized to stirring music is projected every 5-10 minutes.  It’s a highly unique attraction worth visiting, especially on a blazing hot day!

-Dining in the town of St. Remy, going on runs through St. Remy, and relaxing at Canto Cigalo.  We had a wonderful dinner at Bar Tabac de Les Alpilles, and a phenomenal breakfast at Le Marilyn (I am pretty sure this is what it was called at least). Drinking wine late into the night outside in the front courtyard area just beyond the pool at Canto Cigalo was relaxing and a fun way to unwind.

In Luberon Valley

-The lavender fields of Senanque Abbey in Gordes.  I shrieked with excitement the second our car rounded the bend of one of many hilltop curves, when those rows of deep purple came into view.  Scattered throughout the hilly plains of Gordes, lavender fields are plentiful and every bit as wildly beautiful and fragrant as any romantic could imagine.  Senanque Abbey is a still active 12^th century Cistercian abbey near the village of Gordes. To support themselves and their abbey, the monks who live in Senanque grow lavender and keep honey bees. Lavender grows wild in Provence, due to its arid climate and alkaline soil.  Lavender is my favorite scent, and one of my favorite flowers.

-The town of Gordes.  Gordes is a medieval village literally built into a cliff. This village is ideal for an afternoon stroll and long lunch.  We bobbed in and out of various shops, accruing souvenirs and lavender products of all sorts.  As you stroll through the cobblestone streets you can catch glimpses of the breathtaking panoramas below between the narrow gaps of stone facades.  We ate at a phenomenal place that I sadly cannot remember the name of, but it was right in the heart of the village, just outside of the medieval castle and its pretty courtyard fountain.  One of my fondest Provencal memories was made here, at this outdoor table, sipping wine, gabbing, people watching, and soaking up life as a Provencal lady who lunches…AKA a tourist forgetting about her budget for the afternoon ;).

Other

-We shopped in the town of Arles, but regrettably did not make it to the famous Van Gogh “Starry Night” inspired vantage point, nor the famous Roman aqueduct and amphitheater. I think we may have just been tuckered out from touring, so instead we just perused the commercial, yet charming streets.

-Aix-En-Provence was not what I expected at all. It was bustling, full of young people, loud, and diverse.  Our Air B and B was in an…interesting location, sandwiched between an ethnic grille and a tattoo shop on a back alleyway, and of course, un-air conditioned.  On our day in Aix we decided we needed a day at the beach, for a vacation from the vacation, and especially to escape the stifling quarters of the Air B and B.  We made our way to Les Lecques Beach or “plage” in French, and though the beach was quite rocky, we were able to find a sandy-ish spot where we lounged and took much needed naps. This beach was clean, family friendly, beautiful, and had a local feel. That evening, regardless of the fact that we had to be up at around 5:30 a.m. to part ways on different trains out of Provence, we stayed up until past 3 a.m., drinking wine on the terrace and playing games we invented.

After a late arrival to Marseille from Barcelona, and one forgettable night in a coffin-like hotel room within a seedier pocket of Marseille, mom and I checked out early and decided to meet Jackie at the train station rather than have her meet us at our hotel.  Jackie flew into Paris that morning and took a train straight to Marseille for an affordable cost of $50. Mom had rented us a car, as our next destination was Provence countryside, an area that demands independent transit if desiring to tour more than one town.  Once we met up with Jaquita Banana and had a hug-filled reunion, we discovered our rental car was unfortunately not at the train station, but at the airport.  Therefore, we had to take a 25 minute bus ride to the airport to get our rental.  Let this be a lesson to any future travelers, make sure you double check where you are picking up your rental car, and you may even want to speak with a representative to fully confirm that the pick-up location is convenient for you and accessible by public transit if you’re without personal transit entirely as we were. Anyhow, we got our rental and with slight apprehension we hit the Marseille highway, heading for the Old Port, known as Vieux-Port.  We only had the day in Marseille, as we had a reservation at Canto Cigalo in St. Remy, Provence for that evening.  Before I detail the highlights of our day very well spent in Marseille, I’ll conclusively describe Marseille as I saw it.  My time in Marseille was brief, and of course I did not see it all, but Marseille appeared very seedy and very poverty-stricken.  The drive through the city was lackluster and gritty, but not as much in a pleasant, archaic gritty that some European cities project, it was more of a scary and sinister gritty.  However, the areas of Vieux-Port and Calanques National Park provide a stark contrast of life, art, culture, and natural beauty.  The Old Port is a gorgeous area with stately 19^th century built hotels combing the backstreets, and turquoise waters edged by rocky cliff sides beyond the marina.  I highly recommend visiting the Old Port if you visit Marseille.  Additionally, on our final day in Provence we drove back to the Marseille area to visit one of the local beaches called Les Lecques, which we thoroughly enjoyed.  All in all, Marseille has a vast variety of tourist attractions, I would just be sure to do your research if staying overnight in Marseille.  Alternatively, I also would recommend staying in Provence, getting a rental car, and making Marseille a day trip rather than an overnight.

Highlights and moments:

-Taking a boat tour through the Calanques.  The Calanques are inlets made up of limestone or dolomite, and they ribbon along the Mediterranean. Unfortunately the tour was entirely in French, but our friendly boat skipper provided us with an English brochure that commented on each Calanque we bobbed past.  This was a wonderful way to welcome Jackie to France, though the sea did get a little choppy.  The water was that deep, almost fake looking blue as far as the eye could see, and splashing against the sun-bleached limestone inlets and rock formations made the water appear even bluer.

-Dining at a fun outdoor café in the middle of a café lined square amidst the zig-zagging backstreets behind the Old Port, near La Panier.  Live performers doing flips and high kicks entertained us as we sipped our vin blanc and chowed down on fresh seafood and warm camembert. Lost in the typical trance of a three hour European dining experience, the sun began to set and we forgot about the hour long drive we had to make to get to our next destination. European dinners can do that to you, make you forget your worries and your strife and send you into a euphoric state of leisure.

-Ringing in Bastille Day with the locals at the Old Port Marina. Once we walked down toward the marina from dinner, we realized that we were not going to get our car out of the garage anytime soon, as the one street that lines the entrance into and the exit out of the Old Port was fully blockaded and bustling with people. Locals and tourists filled the outdoor cafes and spilled out into the streets and sidewalk, everyone eagerly awaiting the fireworks show.  We forfeited our attempt to get to St. Remy at a reasonable hour and posted up with the locals to ring in their independence.  The fireworks show that erupted around 9:30 was the best fireworks display I have ever seen in my life.  Mom and I agreed that the French put us Americans to shame when it comes to fireworks.  Over the marina there were ceaseless sky-reaching fountain fireworks that complimented the simultaneous mortar launched fireworks that exploded into shimmering blooms of palm trees above the Palais du Pharo.  All of it synchronized seamlessly to patriotic music. The show lasted nearly a full hour! Luckily, immediately following the show we were able to book it to our car, follow behind a car full of teenagers making haste, and then with their help, were able to barrel through to the exit road and make our way to St. Remy.

My initial thought upon arrival into Barcelona was, perhaps it’s better to travel without any expectations at all.  I expected to fall in love immediately with Barcelona, but that enamored rush of awe and contentment never seemed to wash over me.  I guess I expected the city to have a similar vibe to Valencia- coastal, chic, and friendly, but I found Barcelona’s vibe to be congested, touristy, and commercial.  I dare not use the word “disappointed,” but it certainly was not what I had expected, and therefore, it was my own doing and I don’t fault Barcelona herself of course.

Mom and I stayed in the old town, called the Barri Gotic, in a Rick Steves recommended budget friendly hotel called Hotel El Jardi.  Ideally located, the hotel provided good service and an institutional meets hospital-esque room.  It wasn’t a problem for mom and me because even if we were slightly unimpressed with Las Ramblas, the famous people watching pedestrian-only boulevard that runs through the entire city, we knew we had plenty to see and experience in this city.

I loved learning Spanish in high school, so much so that I minored in Spanish in college.  I remember first learning about Gaudi and viewing photos of Sagrada Familia in one of my college Spanish courses and promising myself that I would one day see it in person.  As a fanatic of all things whimsical and fanciful, Antoni Gaudi’s wavy, nature-inspired Modernist architecture won my heart the second I caught a glimpse of his work in my textbook.  I was “rowdy for Gaudi” as I self-proclaimed, and mom and I got a thorough, two day dose of the imaginative modernist legend’s work. All in all, Barcelona was not my favorite destination; however, one of my most memorable experiences of my journey was made in Barcelona when mom and I first set foot inside the Sagrada Familia.  The feeling was overwhelming and almost emotional. In my eyes, no other cathedral could ever match the grandeur and unique beauty of this basilica. So though the streets may have been tourist clad and slightly tacky, I happily took refuge in Gaudi’s timeless legacy that he has strewn across the city of Barcelona.

Highlights and moments:

-Enjoying a jazz concert on the rooftop terrace of Gaudi’s La Pedrera at sunset. La Pedrera was an apartment building designed by Gaudi and constructed in the early 1900’s for wealthier families.  Its real name is Casa Mila, but it is referred to as La Pedrera because that means “rock quarry” in Spanish, and the façade of the building resembles just that.  I was not disappointed by this work of architecture, and in my eyes, a work of art.  Mom and I meant to go for a late afternoon visit, but when we heard the people in front of us ask about an evening concert, we thought that sounded even better.  The evening concert ticket included a tour through the museum portion of the building, a cocktail, and then a jazz concert on the rooftop terrace that overlooks the whole city, all for around $28! I’ll never forget sitting on the stairs with mom, sipping champagne, listening to incredibly talented musicians jam in the pit-like center of La Pedrera’s wavy, nautilus fashioned rooftop, gazing through curvy archways covered in mosaic tiles out onto the Barcelona cityscape glowing in the melting rainbow light.

-Taking a hop-on-hop-off tour bus through the city to see all of the Modernisma jewels.  It was mom’s excellent idea to do one of these buses.  I was reluctant at first because, well, have you seen one of those things?! However, I swallowed my pride and reminded myself that I was a tourist and I needed to simply embrace it with a capital “T”. Barcelona is a huge city, and after mom and I had tuckered ourselves out rambling down Las Ramblas and then unsuccessfully attempting to utilize the metro system the day before, we concluded that having a chauffeur would be extremely beneficial…even if that chauffeur was a double decker, open-aired turquoise bus jam-packed with tourists smothered in sunscreen, brandishing their selfie-sticks like weapons. We reached the bus easily by getting to Barcelona’s main square, Placa de Catalunya. Notice the name, as it’s important to note that Barcelona is a region of Catalunya, and the people of Barcelona wear this distinction with pride and lisps abound! The hop-on-hop-off bus provided headphones so you could listen to commentary about each site we passed along the way.  Mom and I got off to of course see Sagrada Familia from the outside.  We purchased tickets to go inside for around 5:30 that evening.  Regardless of the ever-present scaffolding encasing most of Sagrada Familia, the church’s exterior still astounded me.   After 43 years of slaving away, Gaudi never finished his masterpiece. And guess what…it’s still not finished! It’s actually pretty neat to realize that architects today are still working to achieve Gaudi’s magnanimous vision. Part of me really wants to see the building finished, and then another part of me doesn’t, simply because it represents the unending toil of devotion to art and faith…which clearly is a timeless toil.  The exterior of Sagrada Familia, which means Holy Family by the way, looks like a drip sand castle from afar.

Our next stop on the bus was Park Guell, pronounced “Gway” in the Catalan tongue. Along the way we passed the other modernist buildings such as The Block of Discord, a rainbow row of Modernist facades built by famous architects at the end of the 19^th century.  Park Guell is located on the outskirts of the city, but it is truly worth a visit.  Mom and I are nature enthusiasts, so I was eager to see Gaudi’s work in a natural context as opposed to the urban context we had just viewed.  Park Guell was actually originally constructed as a gated community for the wealthy during the early 20^th century, however this was a failed project and it simply became a lovely green space to serve as an escape from the city.  Gaudi actually lived inside the park in a little pink house for 20 years, though he didn’t design this house.  The house is now a museum that mom and I decided not to go into, simply because we were more in the mood for a leisurely stroll through some much needed greenery.  The park is stunning, with world-class views, interesting tiles smattering wavy benches and gingerbread house looking structures. A grand staircase with a dragon statue marks the main entrance. We strolled the majority of the park for nearly two hours, taking in the panoramas and the fresh air.

After Park Guell we decided to take a trolley, which then took us to a funicular, which got us to the top of Tibidabo, a mountain overlooking the city known for its ancient, yet still fully functional amusement park.  My brother had really enjoyed this amusement park atop the mountain when he visited Barcelona after college, so I wanted to see for myself.  The views from atop this mountain are stunning.  I’ve also never seen such a clean, adorable, and almost mystical amusement park.  It wasn’t tacky at all, it was truly beautiful.  Mom and I climbed the stairs of the Sagrat Cor Church to gain the best possible views of the skyline.  We certainly were rewarded.

We were well past our Sagrada Familia entrance ticket time, but we headed back in its direction on the hop-on-hop-off bus to try our luck at still getting inside.  Fortunately for us, they allowed us in at 7 p.m., after warning us that they closed at 8 and we’d only have an hour.  One hour was better than nothing at all for us, and boy am I glad we chose to go inside.  We got the audio tour, which was slightly confusing to figure out at first, but once we got it working and were standing at the correct numbers, it was definitely worthwhile.  We learned about all the different carvings in the various facades of the exterior and each one has such deep symbolism and significance to the story of Christ.  Upon entering Sagrada Familia, mom and I both experienced near catharsis.  The basilica is unlike anything I have seen before, or will probably ever see. The stained glass cannot be described in words and cannot be captured in a photograph.  I really like how the audio guide also made a point of encouraging its listeners to take a moment for personal reflection, regardless of denomination, regardless of religious opinions, to simply reflect, be grateful, and to essentially try to have a spiritual moment.  I personally believe that whether you deem yourself spiritual or not, it’s hard not to have some kind of emotional stirring or spiritual connection of sorts when you enter this architectural wonder.

After the sweaty and cramped lodging experience at Artistic B and B, mom and I made a team decision to eat the cost of canceling our next un-air conditioned B and B room and to book at a centrally located, air conditioned hotel called Hotel Sorolla. This ended up being a marvelous decision, Hotel Sorolla was in a prime location, the staff was helpful, the room was clean and spacious, and the cost was extremely affordable.

I didn’t exactly know what to expect from Valencia, I just had heard glowing reviews from my friend Brynne who had studied abroad in Valencia her freshman year of college. Though I trust Brynne’s opinions whole heartedly, I wasn’t positive her 19 year old, party-all-night-long perspective would perfectly align with our mother-daughter, cultural adventure seeking desires. Perhaps it was my slightly non-existent expectations, or perhaps it was because mom and I engaged in the perfect touristic experiences, but Valencia became my new most beloved destination on my trip.

 

It’s a perfectly sized city, with buildings that look like wedding cakes, the beach a 20-30 minute walk away, an ever present flower market lining the main square, side streets draped with twinkling lights shaped like Spanish fans, unique and chic boutiques peppered between trendy cafes, gothic cathedrals, and a straight and flat park called “the river” that runs through the entire city down to the beach, creating a runner’s and biker’s paradise.  To me, Valencia was the perfect city.

Highlights and moments:

-Our “free” walking tour with Valencia Explorers.  We both fell in love with our tour guide, Miguel, who taught us everything we could have possibly ever wanted to know about Valencia and Spain.  His enthusiasm for his city’s history was contagious and his energy was unmatchable.  Here is the review of the tour mom wrote for us to post on Trip Advisor:

“Miguel, the patron saint of Valencia tourists has to be the city’s best ambassador. With warmth, humor, and boundless energy he leads you through the streets of his beloved city delivering new insight about old standards like the X-rated gargoyles on La Lonja and revealing  gems like the unsecured storehouse of perfectly preserved carts used in the Corpus Christi celebrations; some dating back to the 15th century.  He supplements his commentary with images & sites he’s bookmarked on his ipad, making the entire experience interactive. Miguel challenges you to devise your own explanation for particular ancient architectural features before he delivers the historical explanation. The quintessential teacher, Miguel leaves his disciples entranced with both the history and the beauty of Valencia. We also completed the experience with the best bottle of vino tinto and paella of our trip to Spain thanks to Miguel ‘s recommendation. Miguel left this mother/ daughter traveling team feeling like “las reinas de Espana” as he so gallantly dubbed us.”

I highly recommend taking a tour with Valencia Explorers, and definitely ask for Miguel!  The tour was supposed to be 2 hours and it ended up being 4 ½. Miguel probably could have gone on even longer, but we needed a paella and wine break!

-Taking a long run through “the river.” After the great flood of 1957 in Valencia, the city of Valencia decided to divert the Rio Turia so that most of the water runs southwards, skirting the city.  Valencia decided to turn the now dry riverbed into a user-friendly stretch of green, full of playgrounds, sculptures, paths, small ponds, and even a small and well-kept amusement park.  Miguel told us that locals still continue to call this park or green-space “the river” or “el rio.” I highly recommend taking a run, a bike ride, or a stroll through this park.  You can reach the Center of Arts and Sciences, Valencia’s most significant modern tourist attraction, by continuing down “the river,” and then ultimately you can reach the beach.

-Ambling with admiration through the colorful Mercado Central, or Central Market. This is a sensory experience to be had, so don’t miss it!  This market is considered one of the oldest public markets in Europe that is still functioning.  The moment you enter this domed arena filled with rows and rows of endless delicacies, your senses are bombarded. I loved seeing the piles of fresh fish, claims, prawns, anchovies, and sardines showcased on beds of shaved ice.  The smell of loose herbal teas, fresh herbs, baking fartons, and seafood all combine to create a most unique potpourri that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to pleasantly recreate.  I had read that we should try a traditional Valencian market snack of Horchata and fartons.  Who wouldn’t want to try a snack called fartons, right? Fartons reminded me of a drier, spongier twinky without the crème filling, and Horchata tasted to me like chalky, sweetened soy milk.  Needless to say, it wasn’t my favorite treat.

-Our tapas tour with a tour company run mostly by a woman named Suzie, just search “tapas tour Suzie” on Trip Advisor.  Our group consisted of a group of German women in their late 20’s or early 30’s who were nice enough but reserved, a younger American couple who at first came across a bit chilly, a high-spirited, friendly Finnish married couple, two American Airforce friends in Valencia for an Airforce training conference, and Gabriel, our young fedora sporting Robin Williams doppelganger tour guide for the evening. The tour was around 30 euro per person, which included tapas at three different restaurants and one alcoholic beverage at each of the restaurants.  This was an incredible deal!  We got to sample a plethora of authentic tapas as Gabriel dispelled his Valencian culinary wisdom.  Drinking wine and eating tapas the authentic way- all using your hands and diving in to shared plates simultaneously, certainly allowed our group to break the ice rapidly.  Mom and I developed a love affair with the Finnish couple, and we’ve decided we must visit Finland if this husband and wife were any representative of the Finnish people.  Our tour ended with us all passing around the “porron,” a glass spouted drinking device that must be lifted and tilted into the drinker’s mouth.

I did not think I was going to like Madrid as much as I did. Everyone I talked to prior to my trip said that two days in Madrid was too long and that I should spend more time in Barcelona. Looking back on my 16 days in Spain, their opinions couldn’t have been more opposite from my personal conclusion. I loved Madrid. My mom’s flight was due to arrive mid morning and I was set to meet her at our B and B at around 11:30. Very unfortunately, I received messages from her detailing every traveler’s fear when enduring connections on international journeys: her flight had to have an emergency landing in a different airport in the states due to technical difficulties. This of course caused her to not be able to get to her connecting flight to Madrid and ultimately put her at the mercy of US Airways for the next 36 hours. 

After discovering this unfortunate news for mom, I had to figure out what to do with myself for the next 24 hours solo in Madrid. I didn’t want to see all too much without mom, so I decided to take a long leisurely walk through Retiro Park. I also messaged these two guys who were from New York who Greg and I met at breakfast one morning in Granada, Ankeet and Peter. We exchanged numbers after discovering we’d be in Madrid on the same dates, so I figured I’d try to pal around with them at some point now with my time to kill sans mom. Ankeet kindly invited me to meet up with them later that day, he said they had a really nice air B and B with air conditioning and a decent terrace. He had me at air conditioning… my B and B room at Artistic B and B was on the third floor of a narrow building and did not have air conditioning. Though Artistic B and B was adorable, ideally located, and run by a lovely young married couple, it was a sauna to say the least, and I was sweating out of orifices I didn’t even think could sweat nor did I know existed. My shins were sweating! I’ll detail the highlights and moments below, but I’ll happily report that at long last mom arrived the following morning, slightly delirious and nearly shaking from having to lug her oversized suitcase all over Madrid. I stupidly forgot that the metro did not have an elevator or escalator, just stairs leading to the exit. I also forget that my mother is 4 foot 10 inches and, as physically fit and in shape as she is, is also nearing 60. The narrow three flights of stairs after the metro climb also didn’t help the situation. Regardless of my careless blunder, mom arrived and we had a teary, giddy reunion :). 

   
    
    
    
   
Highlights and moments:

-My solo stroll through Retiro Park. This park is seemingly endless, with paths winding through rows of trees interspersed with benches. Ponds and gardens pop up along the pathways. The center of the park is the monument to Alfonso XII where a large man made lake/pond thrives and offers park goers peddle boating, row boating, outdoor cafes, and sunbathing. Major monuments within the park include Velazquez Palace and The Fountain of the Fallen Angel. My personal favorite was the monument to Alfonso XII and the Crystal Palace which showcases different art exhibits throughout the year. The one I saw was called El Sahara Occidental, Su Jama, which was really different and highly photogenic. The park teems with life: elderly men enjoy parking themselves on a bench to read the paper, families bring their dogs and allow their kids and canines to run amuck through the sprinklers, dangerously in love young teens maul each other’s faces in inappropriate positions on the grassy knolls, and runners, bikers, and rollerbladers enjoy breaking a sweat unencumbered by the stop and go of bustling city sidewalks and crosswalk traffic patterns. And as for me, I put in my earbuds, turned up the Florence and the Machine, and followed the yellow dirt road for close to two hours, happily wandering without any purpose besides the enjoyment of wandering. I also thoroughly enjoyed a run through Retiro the following morning, and returned for a third time with mom the following evening. 

   
-Hanging out with Ankeet and Peter. Their Air B and B gave me ridiculously high and sadly false hopes for my future air B and B experiences. They paid as much as I was paying for my unairconditioned, non elevator equipped room, but in addition to those vital amenities they had a washing machine and personal terrace looking out onto the botanical gardens. We talked and laughed for hours, drinking white wine in their air B and B. Their company felt strangely familiar and I am so thankful to have met them. After finishing two bottles of wine, we went to an authentic, slightly pricey paella restaurant where we split a seafood paella and dared each other to eat the eyes off of the prawns. The photo below captures the aftermath of prawn eyeball swallowing. I loved hanging out with these funny, down to earth, intelligent, travel enthusiasts and I plan on reaching out to them when I visit Jackie in NYC. 

   
 -Taking an audio tour through The Royal Palace with mom. Mom and I almost got through the whole thing, but were a bit too tired and hungry to last for all 30 plus rooms with audio lectures. It’s a stunning palace with over the top decor, ceiling frescoes, and furniture. I especially liked the dining room and porcelain room. Sometimes it’s hard to picture life taking place as it did during the times in which ancient palaces and fortresses thrived, but this palace made it easy because all the furniture was still in place and the dining room was set with the real tables and place settings. 

   
   
-Admiring the works of Goya in The Prado. If you’re a major art lover then I feel like you’d need 2-3 days to do The Prado justice. Mom loves art and is extremely knowledgable about art history, but we both were overwhelmed by The Prado’s size and collection. Therefore we decided to pick one of our favorite artists within The Prado, to save us time and brain power. We chose Goya, whose work proved to be extremely versatile and richly layered with symbolism, social commentary, and emotion. I loved The Prado’s explanation of each painting. Rather than simply providing plaques with a title and time period and date, each painting’s meaning and painting technique was described in detail. I was moved by Goya’s haunting and impressionable artistic commentary on violence, war, and greed. My favorite Goya painting was “Saturn Devouring His Son” which depicts the Greek myth of the Titan Cronus (named by Romans as Saturn) eating his own children upon birth due to fear of being overthrown by them. 
-Devouring out-of-this-world seafood paella with mom at an incredible Michellan star rated restaurant of which I sadly forgot the name of but it was within the art district close to Artistic B and B, and meeting a very interesting couple from California. 
Overall, Madrid is a clean, beautiful, well laid out city. I felt safe on the streets, even at night and on back alleyways. The people are beautiful, kind, and active. 

 Blogging Whilst Being a Nomad Disclaimer and Lesson Learned: If I’m ever going to chronicle this entire journey, I’ve got to quit being such a glutton for detail and begin to be a bit more brief :). Therefore, I’ll now relay each city in one single post and provide an overview, highlights, and moments. 
My hostel, Córdoba Bed and Be, was sandwiched between a Claire’s and a bikini shop along a pedestrian only shopping street. Walking from the train station to my hostel I rapidly discovered the commercial and modern aspect of Córdoba. It nearly reminded me of Miami. However, once you walk to the main plaza where the tourism information station is located, and walk in the opposite direction of the street my hostel was on, you’ll find that Córdoba is half old city and half new city. It’s quite an interestingly stark contrast that occurs when stepping from one street below the TI station, through the main plaza, and then back into consumer-friendly streets above the TI station. It’s the type of time travel that is truly unique to Europe. The jewel of Córdoba is The Mezquita, which was originally a cathedral, then turned into a highly impressive mosque in the late 700’s when the Moors conquered Spain, then turned back into a cathedral during The Reconquest. It is very unique and interesting, however, that The Mezquita was very surprisingly not torn down during The Reconquest, and that even more surprisingly, was “turned into” a cathedral. I use quotation marks because when you enter The Mesquita, you will find that the cathedral was constructed within the center of the mosque and surrounding all sides of the cathedral altar, adorned with crucifixes and other catholic decor, is Arabic architecture. It’s remarkable, and I highly recommend a visit. It’s closed on Sunday’s, but try a visit between 8:00 and 9:20 on weekdays, as entry is free. Be sure to cover your shoulders, I found out the hard way and had to rush back to the hostel to grab a button down. In addition to The Mesquita, I recommend walking the narrow, white washed side streets decorated in flowers, and walking the Roman bridge at sunset or even after sunset when the sun is finally too tired to torture Cordobans any longer. 

   
    
 
Highlights and moments:

-Meeting incredibly kind, interesting, and unique people of all ages and walks of life in my hostel. Namely, Maida from Chile who allowed me to enjoy her good company nearly all day as we melted in the heat and shared stories of love and travel :). Maida has been traveling for the past 5 months and will be completing a total of 7 months. She is a funny, genuine, whirlwind of personality and I wish her the happiest of travels and all the best in life and love. Additionally, I want to mention a very cool cat named Jason from Colorado who will be traveling a total of 14 months and was in his 12th month when we met in Córdoba. He had recently completed a vast portion of the El Camino de Santiago, and boy did he have a wealth of tales to regale. I want to thank him for his kindness, and for his generous spirit. His friend he met in Laos was from Córdoba and recommended a dinner spot he invited me to try with him. We took her recommendations not knowing what we were ordering, and were pleasantly surprised, albeit smothered in grease as everything she recommended came fried! Haha, as I’ve said before, often times when dining abroad, one engages in a mystery game. 

   
    
    
 -My “free” walking tour with my amazing and energetic little tour guide who taught me so much about her hometown that she clearly loved whole heartedly. I use quotation marks because the free walking tour guides rely on tips and ask you to “donate” as much as you feel the tour was worth in the end. I have sadly forgotten my guide’s name, but she was a tiny little Córdoba beauty who engaged her pupils by asking poignant questions and taught about her city’s history as all good teachers do, through stories. One of my favorite surprises on this tour was walking through Plaza del Potro to discover that Cervantes lived in this plaza for a brief period and that the plaza actually debuts in a part of Don Quixote. 

   
    
 -Attending a live concert in the basement of a local Córdoba bar with hostel friends. The band was Colombian, and they were incredible! The entire speakeasy-esque basement was jumping up and down, singing along, and salsa dancing. It was a circus and a people watching, body swaying paradise. Funny enough, the entire band was staying in my hostel. I was sure to compliment them the following morning… after the drummer accidentally walked in on me in the bathroom. You’ve got to love hostel living ;)! 
Córdoba forced me to embrace siesta culture. I didn’t get through both my days in Córdoba without taking a 2-3 hour nap midday. It was too hot to do anything between the hours of 1 and 4. Lucky for me, my hostel was air conditioned! I would recommend my hostel as the staff were very friendly and helpful and the place is clean, but beware if you have lots of luggage because it’s a very narrow building with 5-6 floors and no elevator… just winding staircases. All in all, I’m very glad I included Córdoba on my itinerary. It was a great place to be solo, I never felt fearful or in danger and it was just the right size for a developing navigator ;). The Mesquita is definitely worth visiting, and I strongly suggest a walking tour to learn about the rich history. I would maybe consider a biking tour if going because that might even be a cooler (temperature wise I mean) way to experience the tour.