Paris France

Paris grew on me.
The first day in Paris I went mostly shopping and didn't find it that different from SF except for I couldn't undertand everyone, but it was so great to be with Michelle and finally meat Meredith.

My flight to Paris was such a bad experience that I was blamming the city for it. Let me elaborate:
The powers of the airline organization systems wanted me to stay in the Azores. First, my most amazing man left work and took me to the airport. I got there with my confirmation number and passport, I do not have a printer so I thought if I just wrote the information down it would be enough, well that is true if you have you're e-booking number which I did not. So I was on hold with the airline, 20 mins until my flight and I knew I would still be on hold, so I hung up and called my boyfriend. He halled ass back to work went online ang got me what I needed. Thank you baby. Mean while they were leaving check in open just for me. I love the Portuguese.
So, I left the Azores and had a 3 hour layover in Lisboa, that entire layover was spent with a different airline ticket office because they could not find my reservation. Ay Jesus. But I made it in time. Then I get to Barcelona, and have a little over an hour to get my bag and check in with yet another airline. So I get my bag with a broken wheel, rush to the depatures terminal, can't find the airline, ask for help, it's in a different terminal all together, shit. I have to find the green bus to take me to terminal 2. I find the green bus, and sit and wait till they decide they have enough people to depart to the other terminal. Why they didn't read my mind and just go when I got there I will never know.

Finally terminal 2. I walk in, can't find my airline, well that it is because it is in section C of the terminal 5 min walk. Well that turned into a 2 min semi jog in the hot humid sun. I got to the right checkin and it was packed. I asked people if I could cut infront of them to get closer to the ticket person and they were kind to oblige, but I still had a school of kids in front of me. Scared, that they may have closed my flight checkin, I asked one of the workers. He said no they did not close it, because my flight was cancelled. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! He rudely directed me to where I needed to go to figure out my options. After waiting 5 hours in the line (not an exaggeration), I was told I could wait a couple days for another flight to Paris or I could fly to Leon the next night, which is not close to Paris at all. Grrrrrrrrr

What did I do..... I called Dawnielle. Yes she is my little sister but I needed her to be my big sister at that moment, tell me everything is okay, I was tired, frusterated, irritated, wanted to cry, and wanted to be back in the Azores with my man and dog. Thank you Dawnielle, for helping me hold back my tears and getting me a flight for the next day. You are a life saver. The airline in the mean time put me up in a hotel and then next morning I left beautiful Barcelona, with every intention of coming back to spend time and explore the amazing city. I didn't see much, the parts of Barcelona I did see were gorgeous and the people so sweet.

I get to Paris! Have my bag, and I see my wifey Michelle with a purple sign with my name on it and pastry in hand, she new I would be hungery. I love you Michelle!

The apartment we rented is in the Latin Quarter, next to the Pantheon, and it's beautiful and powerful at the same time. We went to a cute outside cafe had wine and mussels in this amazing garlic wine sauce.

Paris is great, but my first day and night I did not find it special execpt for the architechture and edifices, which I had not really seen yet. Then we went out. I was sleep deprived and grumpy with a grudge against Paris because I did not think She wanted me there. But I got to see Bean and dance with my girls. Even though I was wearing Merediths super high heels and almost fell twice.

So my first encounter with Parisen men. On our somewhat of a lengthy walk back to the apartment we encountered a Parisen man who just walks up to us starts grabbing our arms and pulling me and trying to get the rest of us in his direction. I don't speak french but in France NO is a recognized word. Michelle was a bit intoxicated so I had her on one arm and Mere had her on the other. Mere was trying to tell him no and keep walking and I was trying to get him off of me and keep walking. Well eventually I pushed him off, broke free and was on my way. He came back more agressive than before, this time I slapped him, he let go and we were off but not before he got a kick in and kicked me in the leg! I know! Asshole. Luckily it wasn't to bad, just a scrape, but at this point. I hated Paris.

A couple days later, more site seeing, walking all over the city, the pleanty of eating, the little neighborhoods, the great company and some very nice and sweet Parisens, my ill view of the city has changed. I am definitely a fan of Paris, but a week is enough for me.

I went to see the Notre Dame and the achitecture is so amazing, I wanted to spend hours and study every detail on the outside of the church. And then when finished with that start on the inside. I fell in love! I want my very own. Last night, we picknicked in the Park under the Eiffel Tower. We mad goat cheese grilled cheese sandwiches with honey, we made garlic hummus, salad, of course we brought brie and salami and where would we be without two bottles of wine (we should of had three). We met lovely people who came and joined us and we watched the tower sparkle past 1am. Just beautiful. Once you let go of the things that piss you off about Paris and embrace its romanticism, Paris becomes a lovely city.

Portuguese Food

 


God I love the food here, from the sweet breads, to the every day bread, cheese, linguisa, Morcela, snails, barnacles, cookies, bifanas, cheese bread, cod fish fitters, the octopus, the bifana especial, Modelos chicken, Veal Crudo, Veal and sheep cheese, the many cod fish dishes and the flaming pinapple oh my. God is good, food is good, life is good!

Pico Island

So I visited the island of Pico, It is called Pico, because of the peak on top the the peak of the volcano. I stayed with my grandfathers niece Maria Nunes. I feel Maria's goal in life is to make people fat. She would always stuff me until I felt I was gonna explode, Maria knows the word no, but does not understand it when you say it to her. She was sweet, tough, independant, smart and loving and I'm lucky we are family. Here is Maria with her daughter Connie. Connie and her husband took me all over Pico to all the different soupas (soupas include, soggy bread, baked meat, carne asada and for dessert- rice pudding...AMAZING). There was a fesitival going on while I was there, the festival of The Holy Spirit, and in honor of the Holy Spirit they have mass, a procession, they make thousands of different loaves of sweet breads and then hand them out to passer-bys or they go house to house, and of course there is the soupas- the food. And may I inform you that each town does this, on different days, so I ate a processed a lot. < a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e24b0aT5iiU/TCIS5P4owaI/AAAAAAAAAUc/6mqrGfsY2T8/s1600/DSC00109.JPG">My grandfather was born in Pico and I had the most emotional privilage of seeing the house he grew up in, I miss him terribly. This me wearing his shirt in front of his house and this is was his view. a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e24b0aT5iiU/TCIXDwtG_uI/AAAAAAAAAU8/6ArIPdSWM4U/s1600/DSC00043.JPG">
My favorite thing about Pico, besides the incredible views and how calm it was, the people. Here's a story for you. My cousins were taking me back to the ferry so I could catch it back to my house on the island Terciera. Now the ferry schedules are not regular so you take what you can get, and if you miss one it could be anywhere from a couple days to more than a week till you can catch the ferry to your desired location. Back to the story, my cousins and I were 15 minuets outside to the port where I was to catch the ferry when Maria Nunes called them to let them know I had left my wallet at her house. CRAP. We did not have time to drive back to Terra do Pao (where she lives) to get my wallet and then make it back to the ferry. So my cousin Laura, called her sister, her sister called a cab driver, so he could drive to Maria Nunes' house to get my wallet and meet us. The cab driver was not home, but his wife offered to get in her truck drive to Marias, pick up my wallet and bring it to me. And while I was waiting for my wallet Lauras sister also called the ferry to see if there was a way to delay it, in the event I was late. I got wallet, I knew I didn't have to check it, and felt guilty that I did.
Pico, you will always have my heart.

This one is for Toni

I have not been keeping up with my blog, cause I have broken cameras. I have so many pictures but no way of posting them. I apologize for my insanely lacking attempt at blogging. But I am posting this blog for Toni. She reminded me that my blog needed some attention.

So. I am blogging about the Portuguese Man o War. Its a Jelly fish like creature that I see everywhere, luckily I have been fortunate enough to avoid these creatures because their sting can be fatal. This Jelly Fish is actually comprised of 4 different organims so technically its not a jelly fish. Right now it is jelly fish season, therefore the man o war isn't the only thing that can sting you in these waters. The people here are so used to them, they will even pick them up and throw them out of the water so they can continue swimming! I avoid the water because of the jelly fish and my fear of the Man O War. I'm telling you, these people are a whole different kind of bad ass! Below is a picture of a Portuguese Man O War from google and a little link to give you more information.

Uhhh, still waiting on my camera battery...

In the mean time, here is an awkward foto of me my friend Manuela took at the RAlli. Its a car race that goes through the streets of the city. Its a traveling Ralli, it goes to the bigger islands and some cities on the main land. It was fun....

Cheers

I went to Algar do Carvao). It is a cave from one of the volcanos here that helped form the island that I now call home for part of the summer. I acened these stairs that looked like some vampiric hallway toward a new life as a blood sucking immortal, into the amazing belly of the volcano. Whats interesting about this one is it never errupted, but magma did fill the inside at one point. The liquid magma was so hot that it burned through the ground into the center of the earth. And! there are a geological and biochemical phenomena which allows the formation of stalactites and stalagmite of amorphous silica. Very interesting. Also, it was almost rainy in the cave because the ground was so saturated from the rains, I got a little glimpse on how the water is absorbed into the earth and makes natural aquifers or lakes like the one in the cave. More than anything it was absolutely incredible to be inside the earth completely surrounded by rock, water, and foliage imagining the power of nature... what is could do, what it did do, and how has it effected life now.

My cousin Duarte and Rosa Maria took me to Biscoitos yesterday. Biscuits in English, the town is named Biscoitos because of the huge lava rocks in the town look like baked biscuits. They are amazing and they line the northern part of the island making natural swimming pools. Popular place to go in June.
After, we went to a friend of my cousins house. He is a wine maker and a very nice man. His wife put out Fanta and Coca Cola for us to drink and Massa Sovada (if anyone is near a portuguese bakery you must go purchase this bread immediately). The wine maker noticed I was eating the Massa Sovada but not drinking. So he offered me soda, I said I didn't like Fanta, so then he asked me if I LIKED beer. I said yes I liked beer, but before I could say I didn't want beer he was out of his seat and in the other room getting me beer.

Just before his return my cousin Duarte leaned over and said, that it was inappropriate to drink beer in the house of a wine maker. The wine maker returned with the beer and a wine bottle that looked like it had whiskey in it. My cousin Duarte tells the wine maker that will not have beer, I will have wine. He looked confused and I did not know how to explain, especially because I didn't want wine either. ugggg, so then the wine maker and his wife asked if I wanted red or white.
This all of a sudden was a very difficult question for me, I didn't know what kind of wine he made. And I wanted so badly to act appropriate, I asked what kind he made. The wine maker didn't answer he just repeated his question. Then, he assumed I didn't know the difference in color between red and white wine and told Duarte to explain it in english.

This was a bigger issue than it needed to be and I had the Wine maker and his wife and my two cousins leaning over me trying to a force a decision. I felt small and helpless. I then turned to the wine bottle filled with whiskey looking liquid. And asked what that was. They took it for a decision and poured me a shot, my cousin explained that it is Angelica. Its a before and/or after a meal drink, its sweet, warm and absolutely divine. I felt I made an excellent choice, the wine maker made it and was pleased that I liked it so much. I was in the clear....for a minuet. I found out the wine maker made white wine by picking out details in portuguese conversation. The wine makers wife suddenly remembered that I didn't choose a wine. So when asked again what wine I wanted to drink, I said white (I typically don't drink white wine but I was trying to be polite and appropriate). As she was walking out of the room, my cousin once again leaned over my shoulder. He said it was not appropriate to drink wine right after Angelica without eating a meal. The wine is only supposed to be consumed if you are eating not as a drink to follow Angelica.
Grrr once again I had no manners. Duarte stopped the wine makers wife from leaving the room. She looked at me confused and all I could do is smile and then look at my feet.

I complimented the wine makers wife on her wonderful massa sovada and we left shortly after.
The were all so kind, working hard to make me feel at home and comfortable. They were very sweet and I hope to see them again
Future Lesson: I will just drink the Fanta.