Slept terribly, got off the train at 8am and grabbed a bus which took us right to the hostel. Got there at 8:30am so we were too early to check in so left our bags in the luggage room and spent hours alternating between reading, napping and coffee.
The hostel, "Jardim de Santos Hostel" was the nicest hostel we visited on the entire trip, very laid back arty atmosphere, comfy beds, super fast wifi and amazing staff.
Had lunch from this cool little place that gave us bread, cheese, pate, mimosa and cheesey butter on entry and our first taste at the amazingness that is Portugese food, which is essentially meat with fries, rice and/or egg... heaven. Had a huge steak done with rosemary and coated in flat chips and an egg.
Spent the afternoon doing the same things we spent the morning doing before going to another little Portugese place which also had the amazing free entrees and then pork in a cream and olive sauce with rice.
Early bed for Macky and I while Lewis stayed up working.
Slept in til 12. Lewis again spent the whole day working while Macky and I chilled out until 3:30 when we went for a walk up to Praca Luis de Camoes for a free walking tour. Guide didn´t show up so we had a quick saunter around before heading back to the hostel.
Cooked a stir fry for dinner then plugged Lewis´ laptop into the TV and watched some Gormsby and Archer, which in hindsight may have horrified the rest of the hostel.
Caught up on my journal/blog and spent a while befriending Carla, the owner of the hostel, who is very helpful as well as being pretty cool and an interesting insight into how it would be to run a hostel.
The next morning we headed out for an 11am walking tour, run by an Austrian guy called Uwe, called "See Lisbon or die!". Starting at Praca Luis de Camoes we were given a quick overview of the city and its destruction by Earthquake in 1755 and then shown that the mosaic tiles lining the square actually make a huge sequence of penises before we headed down the hill into the city center. As we walked through we were given a bit more history about the rebuilding of the city and the restrictions placed upon it. We then headed through the Lisbon Arc de Triumphe and to a big statue of the king from the time of the earthquake, who apparently got a statue for being completely useless. It was here that I was tapped on the shoulder and turned around to a creepy looking guy in an overcoat with his hands held out, offering me sunglasses in one and hash in the other then running off when I refused. Apparently this is a common thing in Lisbon as the American couple next to me said they had been offered cocaine in this manner several times.
From here we walked up the other side of Lisbon and got to 2 big churches. One of the churches is the church of the patron saint of Lisbon and of finding husbands and they celebrate by having a month long party every July for singles to meet so that women can find their husbands and ending in a big marriage ceremony. We then headed up a series of steep, winding streets and stairs which apparently are the best route to take in the annual "get from the castle on the hill to the water through a course of your choice" bike race and ended up at a beautiful garden/lookout under the castle.
After the tour we headed on to "Lisbon's best burger place" for what were admittedly amazing burgers for a very late lunch before heading back to the hostel for another evening of Lewis working and Macky and I chilling out.
Woke up at about 6am to say farewell's to Macky, who was flying to meet up with Jo in Prague before taking her to Paris then spent the day doing very little, watching movies on the TV, talking more with Carla, updating this and reading while Lewis worked.
At 7 I left to go find a pub to watch the Chelsea vs Bayern Leverkusen game and found a magical place that was showing all 4 games on different TVs, sold cheap beer and did decent cheap food. Lewis joined me at half time for dinner and we had a couple of beers and enjoyed the 2-0 win.
The next morning was spent with yet more bumming and Lewis working until 2 when Lewis left to the airport for his flight to Liverpool. Lazed around some more then at 7:30 I grabbed my bags and, following the advice of Macky and Lewis, got a $10 cab to the airport, terrified the whole time by the drivers awful abuse of the steering wheel and accelerator.
Checked in fine then during the security check had to empty out my bag and the security guard took my sunscreen and (I didn't notice until after) my headphones. Disaster as my backup pair were these bright purple monstrosities I got from a Spanish train and were awful quality.
Had maccas airport dinner then headed to the gate for me 10pm flight, only to find it was delayed slightly. Slightly which turned out to mean the plane hadn't even left Barcelona and so we ended up leaving at 12:45am.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Days 92-95 (Sept 6-9) - Madrid
Checked into our hostel in Madrid, "La Posada de Huertas Hostel", which was a nice place physically but had very little atmosphere and completely useless wifi, which while it sounds like a very minor gripe is kind of necessary for Lewis to work and for us to book our next steps and also isn´t a hard thing to implement reasonably. Hung around for a little while in the reception area (the only area with decent chairs) and befriended a cool geek girl from Melbourne called Ruby on her way to study in Salamanca.
At 7, with Ruby joining us, we went on the Tapas Tour, which is run by a group of hostels and is $10 for drinks and tapas from 3 different places, one for each North/South/Central style of tapas. First place wasn´t great, a little sangria and a couple of small dishes but second place had fantastic, large amounts of food and beer and 3rd place some amazingly strong Portugese cider. After the tour ended most people left to join a pub crawl but a group of us stayed at the 3rd place as it did sangria jugs for $7.
The next morning we went to find lunch but came to the unfortunate realisation that none of us had any cash on us so we went on an ATM hunt. Found 3 that didn´t work before we finally found one (they are scarce in Europe for some reason) and then grabbed burgers on the way back to the hostel.
Lewis spent the afternoon working while Macky and I bummed around and then at 5:30 with Ruby as well we all went to Reina Sofia museum, which we were told was free from 6pm. Rocked up and found that free entry starts at 7pm so we wandered up to a park where we spent an hour chilling out in the shade, surrounded by a rather intimate lesbian couple and another couple dry humping against a tree. Possibly we found the wrong park.
At 7 we went back down to the museum and spent a couple of hours checking out all the amazing pieces, the highlights being Dali, Picasso (including the original Guernica, which is enormous and takes up an entire wall) and some very cool modern art pieces. On the way back we finally found ourselves some Paella, which was pretty awesome, before meeting up with Ruby´s roommates Sarah (from France) and Margarida and Roderigo (from Portugal) and went to find a pub. Walked around up to an area meant to have good pubs but they were all either expensive or awful so we ended up back at the same sangria place as the previous night. Spent the walk alternating between deep, political and philosophical conversations with Ruby and messing with the vast amount of spruikkers that constant harassed us. Nothing like going from discussing legalisation of marijuana or Australia´s lack of decent leadership options to suddenly everyone clicking in unison or telling someone "I can´t, my cat is on fire".
Had pizza slices from outside the hostel for brunch before Lewis went back to work and Macky and I went for a wander and bought us our train tickets to Lisbon, which ended up requiring an overnight train as it has to go via Valencia, which is in the almost perfectly opposite direction. Also ended up extending our stay by a night as a result as we wouldn´t have time to fit in Porto. Made ourselves carbonara for dinner, which wasn´t bad but had too much egg in it.
The hostel was running drinking games in the evening and Macky and I distinguished ourselves by beating the defending champions at sangria pong before losing to a couple of American frat boys. Afterwards Macky, Ruby, Margarida, Roderigo and I, joined by some crazy American girl who works as a cinematographer on "Jerseylicious" (ew!), went to the sangria place again until 2, when we all headed to a club. The club looked really awful so Macky and I headed back. According to Margarida the next morning we made the right decision.
For the first morning in Madrid we woke up in time for the free hostel breakfast and then while Lewis worked Macky, Ruby and I went on a free walking tour lead by a super enthusiastic and very funny English girl called Harriot.
The tour started off at the official Madrid statue, which is a bear eating the berries off a special sort of tree who´s berries ferment and go alcoholic for a couple of weeks a year. From here we moved on to the Madrid theatre, founded by a queen who´s husband was gay and so dedicated herself to the arts. The theatre was the first funded one in Spain as the church refused to fund them at the time.
Next up was the Palace, which was massive and magnificent, and right next to it the cathedral, which they designed to be very plain so as not to outdo the palace, but the side facing away from the palace makes up for it by being amazingly ornate. From here Harriot took us to a little hidden garden where we got a lesson in the history of Spain and Madrid, from the Moorish times through freedom of religion and then onto the Catholic takeover and Inquisition.
We then moved on to the old central marketplace, which was built of wood and then burnt down accidentally 5 winters in a row before they rebuilt it one final time out of stone, and then up the new strip of Madrid, with big ornate buildings, each built to the style of the fashionable city of the time, which ends at the statue of Cybele, the unofficial symbol of the city and center of all Real Madrid celebrations. Next to the statue we chilled out in a park while Harriot gave us an overview of the various museums before she took those of us who wanted to a cheap little restaurant for lunch, where for $12.50 we got a huge 4 course meal, beer, paella, steak and chips, cake and finally coffee.
Headed back to the hostel where we said our farewells to our new friends, collected Lewis and then jumped on the metro to the train station for our train to Lisbon. Wrong station. Quickly caught a cab to the right station, which took us past the Bernabeu stadium which was cool. Got on our overnight train and discovered we were sharing our 8 seat section with a group of 5 from the Northern Suburbs. Small world.
At midnight, unable to sleep, we went and had a beer from the train´s bar and a chat with a couple of English girls and a New Zealand bloke.
At 7, with Ruby joining us, we went on the Tapas Tour, which is run by a group of hostels and is $10 for drinks and tapas from 3 different places, one for each North/South/Central style of tapas. First place wasn´t great, a little sangria and a couple of small dishes but second place had fantastic, large amounts of food and beer and 3rd place some amazingly strong Portugese cider. After the tour ended most people left to join a pub crawl but a group of us stayed at the 3rd place as it did sangria jugs for $7.
The next morning we went to find lunch but came to the unfortunate realisation that none of us had any cash on us so we went on an ATM hunt. Found 3 that didn´t work before we finally found one (they are scarce in Europe for some reason) and then grabbed burgers on the way back to the hostel.
Lewis spent the afternoon working while Macky and I bummed around and then at 5:30 with Ruby as well we all went to Reina Sofia museum, which we were told was free from 6pm. Rocked up and found that free entry starts at 7pm so we wandered up to a park where we spent an hour chilling out in the shade, surrounded by a rather intimate lesbian couple and another couple dry humping against a tree. Possibly we found the wrong park.
At 7 we went back down to the museum and spent a couple of hours checking out all the amazing pieces, the highlights being Dali, Picasso (including the original Guernica, which is enormous and takes up an entire wall) and some very cool modern art pieces. On the way back we finally found ourselves some Paella, which was pretty awesome, before meeting up with Ruby´s roommates Sarah (from France) and Margarida and Roderigo (from Portugal) and went to find a pub. Walked around up to an area meant to have good pubs but they were all either expensive or awful so we ended up back at the same sangria place as the previous night. Spent the walk alternating between deep, political and philosophical conversations with Ruby and messing with the vast amount of spruikkers that constant harassed us. Nothing like going from discussing legalisation of marijuana or Australia´s lack of decent leadership options to suddenly everyone clicking in unison or telling someone "I can´t, my cat is on fire".
Had pizza slices from outside the hostel for brunch before Lewis went back to work and Macky and I went for a wander and bought us our train tickets to Lisbon, which ended up requiring an overnight train as it has to go via Valencia, which is in the almost perfectly opposite direction. Also ended up extending our stay by a night as a result as we wouldn´t have time to fit in Porto. Made ourselves carbonara for dinner, which wasn´t bad but had too much egg in it.
The hostel was running drinking games in the evening and Macky and I distinguished ourselves by beating the defending champions at sangria pong before losing to a couple of American frat boys. Afterwards Macky, Ruby, Margarida, Roderigo and I, joined by some crazy American girl who works as a cinematographer on "Jerseylicious" (ew!), went to the sangria place again until 2, when we all headed to a club. The club looked really awful so Macky and I headed back. According to Margarida the next morning we made the right decision.
For the first morning in Madrid we woke up in time for the free hostel breakfast and then while Lewis worked Macky, Ruby and I went on a free walking tour lead by a super enthusiastic and very funny English girl called Harriot.
The tour started off at the official Madrid statue, which is a bear eating the berries off a special sort of tree who´s berries ferment and go alcoholic for a couple of weeks a year. From here we moved on to the Madrid theatre, founded by a queen who´s husband was gay and so dedicated herself to the arts. The theatre was the first funded one in Spain as the church refused to fund them at the time.
Next up was the Palace, which was massive and magnificent, and right next to it the cathedral, which they designed to be very plain so as not to outdo the palace, but the side facing away from the palace makes up for it by being amazingly ornate. From here Harriot took us to a little hidden garden where we got a lesson in the history of Spain and Madrid, from the Moorish times through freedom of religion and then onto the Catholic takeover and Inquisition.
We then moved on to the old central marketplace, which was built of wood and then burnt down accidentally 5 winters in a row before they rebuilt it one final time out of stone, and then up the new strip of Madrid, with big ornate buildings, each built to the style of the fashionable city of the time, which ends at the statue of Cybele, the unofficial symbol of the city and center of all Real Madrid celebrations. Next to the statue we chilled out in a park while Harriot gave us an overview of the various museums before she took those of us who wanted to a cheap little restaurant for lunch, where for $12.50 we got a huge 4 course meal, beer, paella, steak and chips, cake and finally coffee.
Headed back to the hostel where we said our farewells to our new friends, collected Lewis and then jumped on the metro to the train station for our train to Lisbon. Wrong station. Quickly caught a cab to the right station, which took us past the Bernabeu stadium which was cool. Got on our overnight train and discovered we were sharing our 8 seat section with a group of 5 from the Northern Suburbs. Small world.
At midnight, unable to sleep, we went and had a beer from the train´s bar and a chat with a couple of English girls and a New Zealand bloke.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Days 88-92 (Sept 2-6) - Barcelona
Checked in to our hostel, Sant Jordi Diagonal, (there are 5 Sant Jordi hostels in Barcelona that do pub crawls together) which was a very nice place but had seemingly no atmosphere. They did a pub crawl every night at 11pm but before then nobody was in the common rooms, people just turned up at reception at 11, which seemed odd after our previous experiences where everyone would hang out and pre drink together. I call it a pub crawl but in reality it was 1 bar where the people from each Sant Jordi hostel met up and then everyone going to a club about 1:30-2.
Spent the afternoon watching European Championship football with our roommate Josh and a crazy black frenchman.
Went on the pub crawl alone, as Lewis was working and Macky tired... Befriended a group of 4 Irish blokes from the hostel on the walk to the bar and when we arrived we discovered it empty aside from us. We grabbed some pints and a booth and played a drinking version of 20 questions, only to discover the bar suddenly full when we went for the next round. Got separated at the bar and started talking with a pair of sisters from perth and their friend from Boston and hung out with them until at 1am we were moved on to our destination club. The club itself was pretty shitty and I spent the rest of the evening alternating between the Irish guys and saving the girls from a very determined group of creepy French guys.
We all left together and as we did another guy made a very... physical... move on one of the sisters so I walked them back to their hostel. It was at this point that I realised that it was 5am and I was drunk, alone and lost in a foreign, non-English speaking city, so I just grabbed the first cab that came past who drove me 100m up the road, turned a corner, drove another 100m and dropped me outside the hostel for $4.
Slept in and when I awoke we, along with Josh, went and grabbed a kebab for lunch before bumming around the hostel for a few hours while Lewis worked. At about 5 I rallied the troops and we all headed up to Parc Guell, a nice park on a hilltop overlooking the city and filled with cool little winding paths and cacti with little red fruit growing on them, which tasted like very flavorsome but pip-filled watermelon. The hill up to the park is very steep but luckily this was solved by outdoor escalators. Genious!
Got back to the hostel and went on a mission to find a nearby recommended Paella place but ended up spending about an hour wandering around the area it was meant to be in and coming up empty so, starving by this point, we grabbed some burgers. Turns out there is no Paella place in our area whatsoever, they are all on the waterfront.
On the way back from dinner we stopped in a corner store for some drinks and discovered the best thing about Spain. 1.5L of 7% sangria for $2. Had some drinks in the hostel before once again attempting to pub crawl with the others. Lewis working. Macky booking tickets. I headed out all on my lonesome again.
First pub this time was a massive, beer hall themed place playing old school rock music. Much better. Hung out with the Irish guys again as well as the rest of the group from the hostel, a very cool guy from Miama, Meggie from Melbourne, Katie from Canada and a few others, including an Iraqi and an Israeli who befriended one another through the wonderful medium of beer and declared their country´s war a "politicians war the people don´t want". Very cool. The pub also served giant 4L tubes of beer, which between the 10 or so of us we got through 5 of.
At 2am we all moved on to the club of the night, Razzmatazz, which the Irish guys had been to the previous night after the other club and had encountered a bunch of people doing cocaine off one anothers shoulders, but was actually pretty tame. Headed back to the hostel about 4:30 and hung out a bit more with the Israeli and Miami guys before bed.
Up at midday and went and got some of these amazing sausage in pastry things I had had the previous night from up the road before spending the afternoon being lazy, reading and listening to music while Lewis worked and Macky complained of boredom. Should have come out with me the previous night and booked tickets now.
In the evening we went up the road to the hostel´s recommended Tapas place, "BO", which was really good and relatively cheap, all sorts of tasty little dishes and the best sangria we had in Spain. After dinner headed back to the hostel and while Lewis worked Macky and I spent the evening playing drinking games with Meggie and a couple of others and finished off all our remaining beer and sangria.
Hung around hostel with Lewis, Macky, Meggie and Josh until about 1 when, joined by Josh´s friends Pauline and Nadine, Dutch and Italian girls studying together in Bristol, we went up the street to a $10 all you can eat Japanese buffet place. Best place ever, more variety than I have ever seen, huge tables of sushi, noodles and rice, seafood, veggies, dim sums and spring rolls, meat, plus a bbq where you filled your plate and a chef bbqed it for you and ice creams, cakes and lollies. Stayed for about 2 and a half hours before we separated and I lead Macky and Lewis on another Hugh-designed walking tour.
First stop was the giant palace on the hill, fronted by a very cool boulevard, the "Magic Fountain", which lost some of its magic due to being turned off, a columnade and another set of outdoor escalators. From here we moved on to Estatua de Colon, a massive statue on the waterfront surrounded by smaller statues of lions at its base, which Macky had to ride before we walked up the main tourist street, stopping only to watch a street vendor/artist doing spray paint art.
Worked our way through the backstreets of the gothic quarter (architecture, not a whole area dedicated to goths, as hilarious as that would be) which was cool and emerged onto a large boulevard, next to a little area set up for the locals to play a variation of bowls on. The boulevard ended at the Barcelona Arc de Triumphe which was very impressive but not quite as beautiful as the Paris one.
Took the metro to our final stop, Sagrada Familia, the huge Catholic church designed by Gaudi and still under construction, showing an interesting colouring where the old, darker stone meets the new light stone. Sagrada Familia is intensely beautiful, awe striking with its very different style of architecture, lots of spires and traditional church statuery but combined with lots of smooth curves and also cubist style sculptures and with the spires lined with animal carvings and many of them with trees or fruit for the pinnacle.
Headed back for Thai dinner, which was very good although somewhat concerning as we were the only patrons, before Lewis and I (Macky´s legs being too sore) met up with Pauline and Nadine and joined the pub crawl group briefly at a pub called "La Gata Negro" (The Black Cat) which was so cool. The pub had I think 250 shots on offer for $2.50 each and every shot involved some sort of spectacle, be it fire, breathing through straws while drinking, melting fruit, bartender interaction or sexual themes and jokes.
Stayed there for a couple of shots before we went for a wander and ended up buying 6 beers off a street vendor for $6 and chilling on the beach. The beach in Barcelona was the first sand beach we had seen since Aus and it felt so good, and quite nostalgic, to be able to sit on a sandy beach again. Stayed there until about 5 when we walked back to the metro, said our farewells and headed back to the hostel.
Slept in until 10, checked out and headed to the station. Got there a little early so had coffee and donut breakfast before jumping onto the train to Madrid.
I really loved Barcelona. I can´t explain why exactly, be it the weather, atmosphere, beaches, architecture or whatever but it has a very Sydney feel to it and I felt more at home there than at any other city we had visited.
Spent the afternoon watching European Championship football with our roommate Josh and a crazy black frenchman.
Went on the pub crawl alone, as Lewis was working and Macky tired... Befriended a group of 4 Irish blokes from the hostel on the walk to the bar and when we arrived we discovered it empty aside from us. We grabbed some pints and a booth and played a drinking version of 20 questions, only to discover the bar suddenly full when we went for the next round. Got separated at the bar and started talking with a pair of sisters from perth and their friend from Boston and hung out with them until at 1am we were moved on to our destination club. The club itself was pretty shitty and I spent the rest of the evening alternating between the Irish guys and saving the girls from a very determined group of creepy French guys.
We all left together and as we did another guy made a very... physical... move on one of the sisters so I walked them back to their hostel. It was at this point that I realised that it was 5am and I was drunk, alone and lost in a foreign, non-English speaking city, so I just grabbed the first cab that came past who drove me 100m up the road, turned a corner, drove another 100m and dropped me outside the hostel for $4.
Slept in and when I awoke we, along with Josh, went and grabbed a kebab for lunch before bumming around the hostel for a few hours while Lewis worked. At about 5 I rallied the troops and we all headed up to Parc Guell, a nice park on a hilltop overlooking the city and filled with cool little winding paths and cacti with little red fruit growing on them, which tasted like very flavorsome but pip-filled watermelon. The hill up to the park is very steep but luckily this was solved by outdoor escalators. Genious!
Got back to the hostel and went on a mission to find a nearby recommended Paella place but ended up spending about an hour wandering around the area it was meant to be in and coming up empty so, starving by this point, we grabbed some burgers. Turns out there is no Paella place in our area whatsoever, they are all on the waterfront.
On the way back from dinner we stopped in a corner store for some drinks and discovered the best thing about Spain. 1.5L of 7% sangria for $2. Had some drinks in the hostel before once again attempting to pub crawl with the others. Lewis working. Macky booking tickets. I headed out all on my lonesome again.
First pub this time was a massive, beer hall themed place playing old school rock music. Much better. Hung out with the Irish guys again as well as the rest of the group from the hostel, a very cool guy from Miama, Meggie from Melbourne, Katie from Canada and a few others, including an Iraqi and an Israeli who befriended one another through the wonderful medium of beer and declared their country´s war a "politicians war the people don´t want". Very cool. The pub also served giant 4L tubes of beer, which between the 10 or so of us we got through 5 of.
At 2am we all moved on to the club of the night, Razzmatazz, which the Irish guys had been to the previous night after the other club and had encountered a bunch of people doing cocaine off one anothers shoulders, but was actually pretty tame. Headed back to the hostel about 4:30 and hung out a bit more with the Israeli and Miami guys before bed.
Up at midday and went and got some of these amazing sausage in pastry things I had had the previous night from up the road before spending the afternoon being lazy, reading and listening to music while Lewis worked and Macky complained of boredom. Should have come out with me the previous night and booked tickets now.
In the evening we went up the road to the hostel´s recommended Tapas place, "BO", which was really good and relatively cheap, all sorts of tasty little dishes and the best sangria we had in Spain. After dinner headed back to the hostel and while Lewis worked Macky and I spent the evening playing drinking games with Meggie and a couple of others and finished off all our remaining beer and sangria.
Hung around hostel with Lewis, Macky, Meggie and Josh until about 1 when, joined by Josh´s friends Pauline and Nadine, Dutch and Italian girls studying together in Bristol, we went up the street to a $10 all you can eat Japanese buffet place. Best place ever, more variety than I have ever seen, huge tables of sushi, noodles and rice, seafood, veggies, dim sums and spring rolls, meat, plus a bbq where you filled your plate and a chef bbqed it for you and ice creams, cakes and lollies. Stayed for about 2 and a half hours before we separated and I lead Macky and Lewis on another Hugh-designed walking tour.
First stop was the giant palace on the hill, fronted by a very cool boulevard, the "Magic Fountain", which lost some of its magic due to being turned off, a columnade and another set of outdoor escalators. From here we moved on to Estatua de Colon, a massive statue on the waterfront surrounded by smaller statues of lions at its base, which Macky had to ride before we walked up the main tourist street, stopping only to watch a street vendor/artist doing spray paint art.
Worked our way through the backstreets of the gothic quarter (architecture, not a whole area dedicated to goths, as hilarious as that would be) which was cool and emerged onto a large boulevard, next to a little area set up for the locals to play a variation of bowls on. The boulevard ended at the Barcelona Arc de Triumphe which was very impressive but not quite as beautiful as the Paris one.
Took the metro to our final stop, Sagrada Familia, the huge Catholic church designed by Gaudi and still under construction, showing an interesting colouring where the old, darker stone meets the new light stone. Sagrada Familia is intensely beautiful, awe striking with its very different style of architecture, lots of spires and traditional church statuery but combined with lots of smooth curves and also cubist style sculptures and with the spires lined with animal carvings and many of them with trees or fruit for the pinnacle.
Headed back for Thai dinner, which was very good although somewhat concerning as we were the only patrons, before Lewis and I (Macky´s legs being too sore) met up with Pauline and Nadine and joined the pub crawl group briefly at a pub called "La Gata Negro" (The Black Cat) which was so cool. The pub had I think 250 shots on offer for $2.50 each and every shot involved some sort of spectacle, be it fire, breathing through straws while drinking, melting fruit, bartender interaction or sexual themes and jokes.
Stayed there for a couple of shots before we went for a wander and ended up buying 6 beers off a street vendor for $6 and chilling on the beach. The beach in Barcelona was the first sand beach we had seen since Aus and it felt so good, and quite nostalgic, to be able to sit on a sandy beach again. Stayed there until about 5 when we walked back to the metro, said our farewells and headed back to the hostel.
Slept in until 10, checked out and headed to the station. Got there a little early so had coffee and donut breakfast before jumping onto the train to Madrid.
I really loved Barcelona. I can´t explain why exactly, be it the weather, atmosphere, beaches, architecture or whatever but it has a very Sydney feel to it and I felt more at home there than at any other city we had visited.
Days 85-88 (August 30 - Sept 2) - Valencia
Landed in Madrid airport, happy to once again see the sun and feel properly warm in shorts. Got the metro across the city to the coach station and got onto the 4pm coach to Valencia. Finally got to our hotel (we had booked a year in advance for this and Oktoberfest accomodation as they were the 2 big dates for the trip and we wanted somewhere decent, plus it was nice a cheap due to advanced booking) about 9pm, checked in and found ourselves in a very swanky 4 star hotel, feeling somewhat like we didn´t deserve to be in such a nice place.
Starving, we found the first food place that we found and managed to stumble upon the best sandwich place any of us had every experienced. These were less sandwiches and more sexwiches. A side dish of good quality chips, and next to them... the sandwich. One piece of perfectly toasted bread, coated in a thin level of mayo and then a decent amount of quality shredded tuna. On top of this they had placed, artists that they are, another piece of ubertoast, and then on top of this bacon, thick and tasty, before a large and tender piece of pork. Yes, 3 types of amazing meat. Still not finished, they then added tomato and, the piece de resistance, egg, before a third piece of toast, also adorned with mayo. In hindsight, I´m upgrading them yet again to godwiches.
Then bed after long day of travel.
Wednesday the 31st of August, La Tomatina.
Up at 7 and changed into our crap, ruinable clothes, or at least I did, and jumped onto the metro to the train station in south Valencia where the trains to Bunol left from. Waited in line for 30 mins just to get into the station before crushing onto the train itself for the 40 minute trip to Bunol.
Bunol is a very nice little Spanish town on the side of a hill, lots of little streets winding around and very typical Spanish housing, lots of tree´s and a very nice feel to it, and La Tomatina happens right in the center of it. Got off the train and joined the scrum of people making their way down the hill. Stopped halfway down for breakfast, a cheese and salami baguette and half a litre of sangria.
The area that the actual tomato fight takes place in is based around one main-ish road and the little roads that come off it, and somehow we managed to end up right in the middle of the main road itself. The locals have probably a better time (at least in the morning before the cleanup) than the people in the fight, covering their houses in tarps then sitting on their rooves, drinking, bbqing and throwing bucketloads of water on the crowd below. The fight itself starts when someone manages to get a ham off the top of a telegraph pole sized pole. This is made harder by the water throwing locals and the fact the pole is viciously greased up, but solved by making a huge human pyramid around the pole and then having people scrabble up and try to make the last bit of distance, and the completion of this is marked by a gunshot, at which point a series of 8 trucks, at about 10 minute intervals, drive up the main road, forcing everyone to hug the walls, loaded to the brim with over-ripe tomatos and people in them throwing the tomatos out into the crowd. Each truck also occasionally stops to open its back and dump a giant pile of tomatos in the middle of the street. I ended up standing, or occasionally swimming, in what was essentially a mid-thigh depth sea of tomatos in various states of solidity. The fight itself lasts about an hour and a half and was an obscene amount of fun, although tomato juice stings the eyes more than I could possibly have realised. Macky, Lewis and I made a gentleman´s agreement not to go for one another, which only Lewis broke. He was subsequently, and thoroughly, punished.
After it ended we wandered through the back streets searching for the showers, stopping along the way when we came upon a group of people standing around 2 girls in bikinis sitting in the tomato sea. Macky managed to get a "fight, fight, fight" chant going, which the girls obeyed, before yelling "finish her!" and one jumping the other. Our work there done, we moved on.
Showered, discarded my socks and shirt, changed into clean clothes and got the equally crowded but now considerably stankier train back to Valencia.
After second, more thorough, showers and then spent hours washing our shoes, boardies and the others shirts in the bathtub with large amounts of detergent before leaving them to soak overnight and going for more godwiches. Macky had to take the tomato out of his as he couldn´t deal with anymore.
At 7pm I lay down to read and promptly fell asleep.
Slept in until 11. Apparently I was tired. Spent another couple of hours dealing with our tomato clothes before draping them to dry on all available surfaces and doing what we could to deal with the fact that we had accidentally turned the bathtub a nice shade of tomato red.
Went out and grabbed some miscellaneous pastries from the supermarket for lunch to eat in the park then went back to hotel room only to find 2 cleaners outside our room looking remarkably unhappy. Walked past and spent the majority of the afternoon in the lobby with Lewis working and Macky and I reading instead until they were gone. Oops.
In the evening we went out and found ourselves some horchata, a traditional Valencian drink made of sugar, water and ground tigernuts that tastes like a sedimenty coconut milk, but was good.
Had a steak, chips and spanish sauces dinner and another quiet evening.
Woke up, checked out and took the metro to the train station for our trip onwards to Barcelona.
Starving, we found the first food place that we found and managed to stumble upon the best sandwich place any of us had every experienced. These were less sandwiches and more sexwiches. A side dish of good quality chips, and next to them... the sandwich. One piece of perfectly toasted bread, coated in a thin level of mayo and then a decent amount of quality shredded tuna. On top of this they had placed, artists that they are, another piece of ubertoast, and then on top of this bacon, thick and tasty, before a large and tender piece of pork. Yes, 3 types of amazing meat. Still not finished, they then added tomato and, the piece de resistance, egg, before a third piece of toast, also adorned with mayo. In hindsight, I´m upgrading them yet again to godwiches.
Then bed after long day of travel.
Wednesday the 31st of August, La Tomatina.
Up at 7 and changed into our crap, ruinable clothes, or at least I did, and jumped onto the metro to the train station in south Valencia where the trains to Bunol left from. Waited in line for 30 mins just to get into the station before crushing onto the train itself for the 40 minute trip to Bunol.
Bunol is a very nice little Spanish town on the side of a hill, lots of little streets winding around and very typical Spanish housing, lots of tree´s and a very nice feel to it, and La Tomatina happens right in the center of it. Got off the train and joined the scrum of people making their way down the hill. Stopped halfway down for breakfast, a cheese and salami baguette and half a litre of sangria.
The area that the actual tomato fight takes place in is based around one main-ish road and the little roads that come off it, and somehow we managed to end up right in the middle of the main road itself. The locals have probably a better time (at least in the morning before the cleanup) than the people in the fight, covering their houses in tarps then sitting on their rooves, drinking, bbqing and throwing bucketloads of water on the crowd below. The fight itself starts when someone manages to get a ham off the top of a telegraph pole sized pole. This is made harder by the water throwing locals and the fact the pole is viciously greased up, but solved by making a huge human pyramid around the pole and then having people scrabble up and try to make the last bit of distance, and the completion of this is marked by a gunshot, at which point a series of 8 trucks, at about 10 minute intervals, drive up the main road, forcing everyone to hug the walls, loaded to the brim with over-ripe tomatos and people in them throwing the tomatos out into the crowd. Each truck also occasionally stops to open its back and dump a giant pile of tomatos in the middle of the street. I ended up standing, or occasionally swimming, in what was essentially a mid-thigh depth sea of tomatos in various states of solidity. The fight itself lasts about an hour and a half and was an obscene amount of fun, although tomato juice stings the eyes more than I could possibly have realised. Macky, Lewis and I made a gentleman´s agreement not to go for one another, which only Lewis broke. He was subsequently, and thoroughly, punished.
After it ended we wandered through the back streets searching for the showers, stopping along the way when we came upon a group of people standing around 2 girls in bikinis sitting in the tomato sea. Macky managed to get a "fight, fight, fight" chant going, which the girls obeyed, before yelling "finish her!" and one jumping the other. Our work there done, we moved on.
Showered, discarded my socks and shirt, changed into clean clothes and got the equally crowded but now considerably stankier train back to Valencia.
After second, more thorough, showers and then spent hours washing our shoes, boardies and the others shirts in the bathtub with large amounts of detergent before leaving them to soak overnight and going for more godwiches. Macky had to take the tomato out of his as he couldn´t deal with anymore.
At 7pm I lay down to read and promptly fell asleep.
Slept in until 11. Apparently I was tired. Spent another couple of hours dealing with our tomato clothes before draping them to dry on all available surfaces and doing what we could to deal with the fact that we had accidentally turned the bathtub a nice shade of tomato red.
Went out and grabbed some miscellaneous pastries from the supermarket for lunch to eat in the park then went back to hotel room only to find 2 cleaners outside our room looking remarkably unhappy. Walked past and spent the majority of the afternoon in the lobby with Lewis working and Macky and I reading instead until they were gone. Oops.
In the evening we went out and found ourselves some horchata, a traditional Valencian drink made of sugar, water and ground tigernuts that tastes like a sedimenty coconut milk, but was good.
Had a steak, chips and spanish sauces dinner and another quiet evening.
Woke up, checked out and took the metro to the train station for our trip onwards to Barcelona.
Days 80-85 (August 25-30) - Leeds Festival
Lewis took over driving after we got off the ferry in Dover around 4 and took us on what should have been the last 3 hours of the trip. Traffic in England being what it is we ended up having to go the opposite way around the M25 (the big motorway that circles London), stopping only once, for fuel and transmission fluid for Cumu and Burger King for us, and finally arrived at our destination at 10:30. As the festival was sold out we had organised tickets through gumtree and the girl we were buying them had asked to meet in a KFC carpark. Bets, which could I suppose be called somewhat racist, were placed on her skin colour as a result of her chosen meeting point. I lost. The transaction itself went really smoothly but must have looked so suspicious, late at night a group of guys driving into a carpark, getting out of the car to meet some chav girl and handing her a large wad of cash in exchange for an unmarked envelope before both cars drive off. This was confirmed by the cop car that tore in with lights flashing and sirens blaring just as we left.
Parked in the "Guests and Residents" carpark on the advice of Jo, who assured us it would be fine providing we told them we were just dropping stuff off. Stuff like ourselves for a few days. Set up our tent and by 11pm we were sitting around a campfire, beer in hand, with Steph & Jo, and their friends Kristian, a very fun but intense gamer guy, Jono, who was quiet but awesome, Johnny & Antonia, a cool couple and Lydia, Antonia´s sister, who had a habit of smoking, drinking, passing out and repeating the cycle.
After a few drinks we headed out to the carnival area next to the arenas and after checking out the pretty shitastic D´n´B DJ tent we spent several hours being morons in the silent disco, which was awesome.
Woke up, cracked a beer and hung around the campfire until we all headed into the arena for the first time to see the best named band of the festival: Danananakroyd before moving on to the main stage for Taking Back Sunday. It was at this point I realised the downside to English festivals, and also the reason why everyone wears wellington boots. Mud. Deep, thick, slippery, everywhere mud.
I´m also going to interject at this point that this brief sojourn into England was the first time we were cold and wet since... England. It rained on and off the whole time we were there. Yay.
Retreated back under cover to the main tent stage to check out Cage the Elephant, who Macky and I were very keen to see even though we only knew one song and really took us by surprise by how good they were and how much stage presence they had. We then swam back across the arena area to the main stage for Enter Shikari, who I was expecting, based off "Sorry Your Not A Winner" to be very metal but ended up sounding a lot more like a slightly heavier Pendulum.
After Enter Shikari, cold and wet, we escaped due to a break in the decent bands to Jo´s car and its heater, stopping only briefly in camp for dry clothes, alcohol and a deck of cards. The car must have looked pretty dodgy to anyone walking by, 2 girls in bikinis and 5 guys squashed into a little car with a bunch of liquor and misted up windows.
Eventually re-emerged into the world, drunker, drier and warmer, and headed back into the mudpit to see Muse, who never fail to put on a fantastic show. It was the 10 year anniversary of the release of Origin of Symmetry and they played the entire album through before launching into all the classics. Tired and not wanting to deal with the weather anymore we all went to bed after Muse finished.
Woke up to a breakfast of champions; peanut butter sandwiches and strongbow. Hung around the campsite for a few hours, mostly amusing ourselves by taping Kristian´s hands into a pair of Steph´s socks so he couldn´t use his fingers and then taping one arm to his camp chair and challenging him to find a stranger walking past our site to rescue him. He would only appeal to the hot girls, and his calls of "baby I like your hair, can you help me?" or "bitch, I´ll treat you right" didn´t help his cause. After lowering his standards somewhat and still getting no help (to one girl who refused: "I hope your children are born with your nose") he finally found one to help, only for a friend of theirs, Chad, to appear out of thin air and threaten to pour coke on her if she did and then pelting Kristian with Maltesers. He needed the toilet so badly that he eventually gave up and went with his chair, Macky following to record the results, which were that people wanted photos with him but would still refuse to help him. Eventually we let him go as he, Macky, Jo and I left the others to go spend the day at the main stage. First band on was The Blackout, who I had never heard of but blew me away. We all pushed forwards to the front for New Found Glory but Macky decided at one point that he was close enough and pushed sideways towards the middle and we got separated by the crowd. Ended up 3 people back from the front and New Found Glory were excellent.
After NFG we decided we needed food and I promptly found a "Great Australian Pie Shop". The pies were pretty great but the offered side dishes of mash, gravy or mushy peas detracted from the Australian part. We then spent the next 20 minutes searching the mosh pit for Macky but to no avail before Bring Me The Horizon turned it into one enormous fight circle. "Northern monkeys" will fight circle to anything, but when the lead singer of a hardcore band is yelling "BIGGER" for 5 minutes it gets a little surreal. BMTH once again really impressed me with their live show and energy, although I suspect that their recorded stuff will be a let down.
Spent the half hour interval again failing to find Macky but then Rise Against came on and I had to immediately make my own way to the front to go a little mental. They played all the songs I love off their new album as well as all their best other stuff and, even without Macky to mosh with, were fantastic.
By now however I was concerned by our inability to find Macky and we went back to camp to see if he had left the arena (and maybe for another drink or 2). He hadn´t. Regrouped with the rest of the group (minus Macky) at our pre-decided meeting point, an ice cream van, and we all headed forward for The Offspring, who put on a great show with everyone singing along to every song but are really, noticeably, aged.
Sucking up my inhibitions I then joined Johnny, Kristian and Jo and we moved forward for 30 Seconds to Mars who I will sum up with the following 5 words: Jared Leto is a tool. Left halfway through to have another search for Macky but he wasn´t at the campsite or the car so I made my way back and we once again regrouped at the ice cream van for My Chemical Romance. I was really expecting MCR to be awful, emo crap but they ended up surprising me with the quality of show they put on.
Still tense with the lack of Macky I then pushed back to camp and he arrived triumphant 5 minutes later after having spent 10 straight hours at the very front of the stage. Relieved, we had some drinks and crashed.
Woke up nice and perky to find Jo, Kristian, Antonia and Johnny all in a state of uber-hangover thanks to the "Crunk Juice" that had consumed the previous night. Crunk Juice is apparently a result of "Lil Jon, the King of Crunk, who created the drink for his bitches and hos so they would get really fucked and do crazy shit". It is about 12%, comes in a giant can, is illegal to import to the UK and tastes like a "raspberry abortion".
Spent the morning hanging around the campsite, laughing at the poor hungover kids, working on polishing off the alcohol and packing up as we were told we should leave after the days bands rather than stay the night as "people start burning everything". Julia, a pretty blonge girl with dreadlocks who Kristian had been after the whole festival turned up just in time to see him passed out, half naked, in the mud and offer to take him to the welfare tent.
Loaded the cars, left everything we weren´t taking in Lydia´s tent which was being left and then I sprinted off alone to see Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros. Drunk and alone I pushed to the front of the stage just in time for a full set of happy, hippy sing-alongs and awesome music. Also had some crazily hippy girl with dreadlocks plaited with flowers offer me LSD but turned it down like a good boy.Afterwards I made my way to the ice cream van to meet up with the others, in a super good mood, tromping through the mud singing "Home" to myself and feeling more hippy than I ever have before.
Met up with the others and headed closer to main stage for Madness, who I had never heard of but knew a few songs and were very old school ska, and Jimmy Eat World, who always get the crowd going well, then went back to the campsite to burn the remainder of the wood and drink the last drinks. Found Lydia´s tent ransacked and torn apart and the wood stolen by next site over, but we reclaimed it, grabbed the few last cans and hung around until about 9 when we (Macky, Lewis, Steph and I) drove to Steph´s where we had been offered a place to crash for the night and finally got ourselves a decent meal, badly needed shower and a really comfy (couch) bed.
Woke up to a full english breakfast. Fantastic. Baked beans are something we could not find anywhere in mainland Europe, so they were hugely appreciated, by Lewis in particular. Left at about midday, dropped Steph off at Jo´s place but had to decline her offer to show the poms how to play cricket (possibly not her exact wording) and get back to London. Booked our flights for the next day to Valencia as we drove, got again stuck in traffic and arrived back at Stephen´s in Walton about 6pm.
Unpacked everything from Cumu, donating any of our food and camping equipment that was wanted to Pen & Stephen and while we were doing so Stephen went upstairs and wrote us a letter to cancel the insurance. Our flight was leaving at 8am the next morning and Stephen then offered to talk to Jerry, his friend we bought Cumu off and then the insurance company. We ended up somehow getting Jerry to buy the car back and pay for repairs and cancelling the insurance and probably made back about 50% of what we initially paid. Stephen is some sort of miracle worker/saint.
Cumu ended up doing, in around 2 and a half months, 8000 miles (12,800km) which averages at 105 miles (170km) a day and even with her cantankerous nature and eventual gearbox cancer is sorely missed.
Spent the evening washing all our clothes and talking with Pen and Stephen before getting an early night.
Woke up at 6 and Stephen (again, saint) drove us to the airport where we got on our plane to Madrid, which we had to book as there was no flights left to Valencia.
Parked in the "Guests and Residents" carpark on the advice of Jo, who assured us it would be fine providing we told them we were just dropping stuff off. Stuff like ourselves for a few days. Set up our tent and by 11pm we were sitting around a campfire, beer in hand, with Steph & Jo, and their friends Kristian, a very fun but intense gamer guy, Jono, who was quiet but awesome, Johnny & Antonia, a cool couple and Lydia, Antonia´s sister, who had a habit of smoking, drinking, passing out and repeating the cycle.
After a few drinks we headed out to the carnival area next to the arenas and after checking out the pretty shitastic D´n´B DJ tent we spent several hours being morons in the silent disco, which was awesome.
Woke up, cracked a beer and hung around the campfire until we all headed into the arena for the first time to see the best named band of the festival: Danananakroyd before moving on to the main stage for Taking Back Sunday. It was at this point I realised the downside to English festivals, and also the reason why everyone wears wellington boots. Mud. Deep, thick, slippery, everywhere mud.
I´m also going to interject at this point that this brief sojourn into England was the first time we were cold and wet since... England. It rained on and off the whole time we were there. Yay.
Retreated back under cover to the main tent stage to check out Cage the Elephant, who Macky and I were very keen to see even though we only knew one song and really took us by surprise by how good they were and how much stage presence they had. We then swam back across the arena area to the main stage for Enter Shikari, who I was expecting, based off "Sorry Your Not A Winner" to be very metal but ended up sounding a lot more like a slightly heavier Pendulum.
After Enter Shikari, cold and wet, we escaped due to a break in the decent bands to Jo´s car and its heater, stopping only briefly in camp for dry clothes, alcohol and a deck of cards. The car must have looked pretty dodgy to anyone walking by, 2 girls in bikinis and 5 guys squashed into a little car with a bunch of liquor and misted up windows.
Eventually re-emerged into the world, drunker, drier and warmer, and headed back into the mudpit to see Muse, who never fail to put on a fantastic show. It was the 10 year anniversary of the release of Origin of Symmetry and they played the entire album through before launching into all the classics. Tired and not wanting to deal with the weather anymore we all went to bed after Muse finished.
Woke up to a breakfast of champions; peanut butter sandwiches and strongbow. Hung around the campsite for a few hours, mostly amusing ourselves by taping Kristian´s hands into a pair of Steph´s socks so he couldn´t use his fingers and then taping one arm to his camp chair and challenging him to find a stranger walking past our site to rescue him. He would only appeal to the hot girls, and his calls of "baby I like your hair, can you help me?" or "bitch, I´ll treat you right" didn´t help his cause. After lowering his standards somewhat and still getting no help (to one girl who refused: "I hope your children are born with your nose") he finally found one to help, only for a friend of theirs, Chad, to appear out of thin air and threaten to pour coke on her if she did and then pelting Kristian with Maltesers. He needed the toilet so badly that he eventually gave up and went with his chair, Macky following to record the results, which were that people wanted photos with him but would still refuse to help him. Eventually we let him go as he, Macky, Jo and I left the others to go spend the day at the main stage. First band on was The Blackout, who I had never heard of but blew me away. We all pushed forwards to the front for New Found Glory but Macky decided at one point that he was close enough and pushed sideways towards the middle and we got separated by the crowd. Ended up 3 people back from the front and New Found Glory were excellent.
After NFG we decided we needed food and I promptly found a "Great Australian Pie Shop". The pies were pretty great but the offered side dishes of mash, gravy or mushy peas detracted from the Australian part. We then spent the next 20 minutes searching the mosh pit for Macky but to no avail before Bring Me The Horizon turned it into one enormous fight circle. "Northern monkeys" will fight circle to anything, but when the lead singer of a hardcore band is yelling "BIGGER" for 5 minutes it gets a little surreal. BMTH once again really impressed me with their live show and energy, although I suspect that their recorded stuff will be a let down.
Spent the half hour interval again failing to find Macky but then Rise Against came on and I had to immediately make my own way to the front to go a little mental. They played all the songs I love off their new album as well as all their best other stuff and, even without Macky to mosh with, were fantastic.
By now however I was concerned by our inability to find Macky and we went back to camp to see if he had left the arena (and maybe for another drink or 2). He hadn´t. Regrouped with the rest of the group (minus Macky) at our pre-decided meeting point, an ice cream van, and we all headed forward for The Offspring, who put on a great show with everyone singing along to every song but are really, noticeably, aged.
Sucking up my inhibitions I then joined Johnny, Kristian and Jo and we moved forward for 30 Seconds to Mars who I will sum up with the following 5 words: Jared Leto is a tool. Left halfway through to have another search for Macky but he wasn´t at the campsite or the car so I made my way back and we once again regrouped at the ice cream van for My Chemical Romance. I was really expecting MCR to be awful, emo crap but they ended up surprising me with the quality of show they put on.
Still tense with the lack of Macky I then pushed back to camp and he arrived triumphant 5 minutes later after having spent 10 straight hours at the very front of the stage. Relieved, we had some drinks and crashed.
Woke up nice and perky to find Jo, Kristian, Antonia and Johnny all in a state of uber-hangover thanks to the "Crunk Juice" that had consumed the previous night. Crunk Juice is apparently a result of "Lil Jon, the King of Crunk, who created the drink for his bitches and hos so they would get really fucked and do crazy shit". It is about 12%, comes in a giant can, is illegal to import to the UK and tastes like a "raspberry abortion".
Spent the morning hanging around the campsite, laughing at the poor hungover kids, working on polishing off the alcohol and packing up as we were told we should leave after the days bands rather than stay the night as "people start burning everything". Julia, a pretty blonge girl with dreadlocks who Kristian had been after the whole festival turned up just in time to see him passed out, half naked, in the mud and offer to take him to the welfare tent.
Loaded the cars, left everything we weren´t taking in Lydia´s tent which was being left and then I sprinted off alone to see Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros. Drunk and alone I pushed to the front of the stage just in time for a full set of happy, hippy sing-alongs and awesome music. Also had some crazily hippy girl with dreadlocks plaited with flowers offer me LSD but turned it down like a good boy.Afterwards I made my way to the ice cream van to meet up with the others, in a super good mood, tromping through the mud singing "Home" to myself and feeling more hippy than I ever have before.
Met up with the others and headed closer to main stage for Madness, who I had never heard of but knew a few songs and were very old school ska, and Jimmy Eat World, who always get the crowd going well, then went back to the campsite to burn the remainder of the wood and drink the last drinks. Found Lydia´s tent ransacked and torn apart and the wood stolen by next site over, but we reclaimed it, grabbed the few last cans and hung around until about 9 when we (Macky, Lewis, Steph and I) drove to Steph´s where we had been offered a place to crash for the night and finally got ourselves a decent meal, badly needed shower and a really comfy (couch) bed.
Woke up to a full english breakfast. Fantastic. Baked beans are something we could not find anywhere in mainland Europe, so they were hugely appreciated, by Lewis in particular. Left at about midday, dropped Steph off at Jo´s place but had to decline her offer to show the poms how to play cricket (possibly not her exact wording) and get back to London. Booked our flights for the next day to Valencia as we drove, got again stuck in traffic and arrived back at Stephen´s in Walton about 6pm.
Unpacked everything from Cumu, donating any of our food and camping equipment that was wanted to Pen & Stephen and while we were doing so Stephen went upstairs and wrote us a letter to cancel the insurance. Our flight was leaving at 8am the next morning and Stephen then offered to talk to Jerry, his friend we bought Cumu off and then the insurance company. We ended up somehow getting Jerry to buy the car back and pay for repairs and cancelling the insurance and probably made back about 50% of what we initially paid. Stephen is some sort of miracle worker/saint.
Cumu ended up doing, in around 2 and a half months, 8000 miles (12,800km) which averages at 105 miles (170km) a day and even with her cantankerous nature and eventual gearbox cancer is sorely missed.
Spent the evening washing all our clothes and talking with Pen and Stephen before getting an early night.
Woke up at 6 and Stephen (again, saint) drove us to the airport where we got on our plane to Madrid, which we had to book as there was no flights left to Valencia.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Days 75-80 (August 20-25) - Grenoble & Paris
About halfway through our long drive from Pisa to Grenoble, just on the Italian side of the Alps, Cumu decided to pack it in. Disaster! Lewis pulled over into a small rest stop halfway up an Alp where the mechanic mimed that she was done. After our own careful inspection, much frustration and an hour of letting her cool off we discovered that the transmission fluid was empty and decided to top it off and try and make it to Grenoble where we might be able to find a mechanic we could communicate with. Limped on to Grenoble, where we arrived at the "Hotel Kyriad" (there being no hostels and this still being the considerably cheapest option) at about 10pm, had a quick kebab dinner and fell into bed.
Slept in until almost midday as it was Sunday and so, in true European fashion, absolutely nothing (particularly mechanics) would be open. Our intention was to spend the day by going for a hike but after consulting both the receptionist and our stomachs we decided that lunch should come first, and that Maccas was our only real option. This then lead the others to the conclusion that the 15 minute walk in the sun there and back was enough hiking for them and so the call was made to relax around the hotel instead.
Around 5, with Lewis working and Macky skyping, I went for a walk to end my boredom and explored around for about half an hour before I found a servo and bought us another bottle of transmission fluid for Cumu and a 500ml can of Jamiroqui brand beer for me, which I enjoyed while wandering around a park listening to dub (not dubstep, real dub, which the others had banned me from playing in Cumu).
For dinner, with no Cumu to transport us, I asked the lady in reception for information on whether there were any busses into the center of Grenoble, but the result was not good. However she then offered to give us a ride in when she finished work at 9. The condition being that 2 of us would have to ride in the back of the van, which contained only a mattress and no light. Being the gentleman that I am I immediately accepted and happily volunteered the others for those positions while I enjoyed the drive down the tree lined roads with the cool breeze of a window and the ability to foresee turns and breaking. Had a bit of a wander around Grenoble then grabbed ourselves some Indian, which was a very nice change of pace, and a cab back to the hotel.
Up the next morning bright and early (by our standards) in order to take Cumu to the Honda repair place we had discovered. Unfortunately this mechanic also had no English but we stumbled through and he took her for a quick drive and realised there was a problem. While Cumu was being thoroughly explored (dirty slut that she is) we grabbed some breakfast and more thongs for Lewis (who lost his in Corfu) and then went exploring properly in Grenoble.
After a quick jaunt through the backstreets we jumped in a cable car up to the Bastille on the hill, which was very impressive and commanded a fantastic view of the city and the Alps than enclose it. Had a coffee up on the top and took in both the views and the history of the Bastille and the city before descending back down to continue on. Our steps took us through a nice little park and past a couple of cool churches (after so many I feel we are starting to grow less impressed by them than we used to) before ending up at Place Notre-Dame where we acquired for ourselves a 3L tube of beer to wittle away the remaining time until Cumu was ready.
Half an hour later we got the call and, hearts in mouths, headed back to the garage, where the mechanic mimed and used broken English to confirm our suspicions, Cumu´s gearbox was terminal. Limped her back to the hotel where we made the plan to try and get her back to London, where we could either repair her or dump her, via Paris as it was on the way.
Checked out at 8:30 to begin our long, potentially ardous trek North to Paris. Stopped at a few servos before we found one that sold transmission fluid so we could keep Cumu topped up but otherwise she behaved herself remarkably well and we got to our hostel at about 6pm. The "Aloha Hostel" was a pretty nice place with decent atmosphere but sadly lacking in any aloha theme. Met our 3 aussie (seriously, we are like a plague on Europe, just all up in everywhere) roommates who invited us to join them on a pub crawl so after scrounging foods from Cumu and making chilli pasta for dinner we set out with them and a girl called Megan who had, from what we could discover, just spent 3 months in an American bible camp.
The pub crawl was based around the area with the infamous Moulin Rouge (which we didn´t sadly enter) and begun from (even more sadly) an Australian themed pub that served only Fosters. However the pub crawl had a "buy one beer, get one free shot" rule in place so we made do. Ended the night in a decent, packed but not over-crowded club after a succession of average pubs and headed back around 3,
Up around 11, had brunch from a bakery then I led us out on our expertly devised tour of Paris. The Eiffel tower was pretty much as advertised, big, Eiffely and surrounded by tourists. The most remarkable things being the large group of people trying to collect "donations" for being "deaf mutes" but who were often observed talking, and the pick pocket who started following Macky after he saw his camera until I spotted him and pulled us aside until he left.
The Arc de Triumphe was very impressive, lots of impressive statues and I had also not realised that it was the Parisian tomb of the unknown soldier (war memorial). The views down the Champs Elysees were also really awesome, its a pretty damn big boulevard (although Bucharest´s one is 1m wider, suck it France!). Got the metro down the Champs Elysees and came up into the remarkably decadent park that leads to the Louvre. The park itself was amazing, filled with little points of interest at the start and then turning into a huge collection of statues, fountains and flowers as one nears the Louvre itself, which is kind of just a big glass pyramid from the outside. We avoided the giant queue due to time constraints and moved on yet again to the cathedral of Notre Dame, which was huge and fantastic, if sadly lacking in hunchbacks. It did make up for it however by having what we dubbed the "birdmaster" outside, a man almost coated in swallows and with an army of pigeons at his feet.
After this I took us on a detour I wanted for myself, to a huge graveyard in the East of Paris to visit and pay my respects to the grave of Jim Morrison. The grave itself was comparably plain next to the huge ones around it but covered in flowers and gifts. We then also went to Oscar Wilde´s grave, which was larger and almost completely coated in red kiss marks left by fans. Our final stop was the catacombs but they were closed so, alas, we headed back to the hostel.
Made spur of the moment plans, after being invited by Steph & Jo from Corfu, to head to Leeds Festival the next day, made a giant spag bol and had an early night.
Got up at 6:30 to begin yet another epic voyage, this time to North England, and checked out by 7:15. The ferry was booked for 12 but traffic was appalling and we arrived 5 minutes after final check in and had to wait for the 2pm ferry. This at least afforded me the chance for a shower after driving for almost 5 straight hours, even if I had to sneak in as it was meant to be only for truckers. Also gave Macky his birthday present early. I had been carrying it since Download Festival but knew there would be more available at Leeds Fest so had to give it to him before he got himself one. A skull printed face mask which he wore more often than not the entire time we were in England.
Slept in until almost midday as it was Sunday and so, in true European fashion, absolutely nothing (particularly mechanics) would be open. Our intention was to spend the day by going for a hike but after consulting both the receptionist and our stomachs we decided that lunch should come first, and that Maccas was our only real option. This then lead the others to the conclusion that the 15 minute walk in the sun there and back was enough hiking for them and so the call was made to relax around the hotel instead.
Around 5, with Lewis working and Macky skyping, I went for a walk to end my boredom and explored around for about half an hour before I found a servo and bought us another bottle of transmission fluid for Cumu and a 500ml can of Jamiroqui brand beer for me, which I enjoyed while wandering around a park listening to dub (not dubstep, real dub, which the others had banned me from playing in Cumu).
For dinner, with no Cumu to transport us, I asked the lady in reception for information on whether there were any busses into the center of Grenoble, but the result was not good. However she then offered to give us a ride in when she finished work at 9. The condition being that 2 of us would have to ride in the back of the van, which contained only a mattress and no light. Being the gentleman that I am I immediately accepted and happily volunteered the others for those positions while I enjoyed the drive down the tree lined roads with the cool breeze of a window and the ability to foresee turns and breaking. Had a bit of a wander around Grenoble then grabbed ourselves some Indian, which was a very nice change of pace, and a cab back to the hotel.
Up the next morning bright and early (by our standards) in order to take Cumu to the Honda repair place we had discovered. Unfortunately this mechanic also had no English but we stumbled through and he took her for a quick drive and realised there was a problem. While Cumu was being thoroughly explored (dirty slut that she is) we grabbed some breakfast and more thongs for Lewis (who lost his in Corfu) and then went exploring properly in Grenoble.
After a quick jaunt through the backstreets we jumped in a cable car up to the Bastille on the hill, which was very impressive and commanded a fantastic view of the city and the Alps than enclose it. Had a coffee up on the top and took in both the views and the history of the Bastille and the city before descending back down to continue on. Our steps took us through a nice little park and past a couple of cool churches (after so many I feel we are starting to grow less impressed by them than we used to) before ending up at Place Notre-Dame where we acquired for ourselves a 3L tube of beer to wittle away the remaining time until Cumu was ready.
Half an hour later we got the call and, hearts in mouths, headed back to the garage, where the mechanic mimed and used broken English to confirm our suspicions, Cumu´s gearbox was terminal. Limped her back to the hotel where we made the plan to try and get her back to London, where we could either repair her or dump her, via Paris as it was on the way.
Checked out at 8:30 to begin our long, potentially ardous trek North to Paris. Stopped at a few servos before we found one that sold transmission fluid so we could keep Cumu topped up but otherwise she behaved herself remarkably well and we got to our hostel at about 6pm. The "Aloha Hostel" was a pretty nice place with decent atmosphere but sadly lacking in any aloha theme. Met our 3 aussie (seriously, we are like a plague on Europe, just all up in everywhere) roommates who invited us to join them on a pub crawl so after scrounging foods from Cumu and making chilli pasta for dinner we set out with them and a girl called Megan who had, from what we could discover, just spent 3 months in an American bible camp.
The pub crawl was based around the area with the infamous Moulin Rouge (which we didn´t sadly enter) and begun from (even more sadly) an Australian themed pub that served only Fosters. However the pub crawl had a "buy one beer, get one free shot" rule in place so we made do. Ended the night in a decent, packed but not over-crowded club after a succession of average pubs and headed back around 3,
Up around 11, had brunch from a bakery then I led us out on our expertly devised tour of Paris. The Eiffel tower was pretty much as advertised, big, Eiffely and surrounded by tourists. The most remarkable things being the large group of people trying to collect "donations" for being "deaf mutes" but who were often observed talking, and the pick pocket who started following Macky after he saw his camera until I spotted him and pulled us aside until he left.
The Arc de Triumphe was very impressive, lots of impressive statues and I had also not realised that it was the Parisian tomb of the unknown soldier (war memorial). The views down the Champs Elysees were also really awesome, its a pretty damn big boulevard (although Bucharest´s one is 1m wider, suck it France!). Got the metro down the Champs Elysees and came up into the remarkably decadent park that leads to the Louvre. The park itself was amazing, filled with little points of interest at the start and then turning into a huge collection of statues, fountains and flowers as one nears the Louvre itself, which is kind of just a big glass pyramid from the outside. We avoided the giant queue due to time constraints and moved on yet again to the cathedral of Notre Dame, which was huge and fantastic, if sadly lacking in hunchbacks. It did make up for it however by having what we dubbed the "birdmaster" outside, a man almost coated in swallows and with an army of pigeons at his feet.
After this I took us on a detour I wanted for myself, to a huge graveyard in the East of Paris to visit and pay my respects to the grave of Jim Morrison. The grave itself was comparably plain next to the huge ones around it but covered in flowers and gifts. We then also went to Oscar Wilde´s grave, which was larger and almost completely coated in red kiss marks left by fans. Our final stop was the catacombs but they were closed so, alas, we headed back to the hostel.
Made spur of the moment plans, after being invited by Steph & Jo from Corfu, to head to Leeds Festival the next day, made a giant spag bol and had an early night.
Got up at 6:30 to begin yet another epic voyage, this time to North England, and checked out by 7:15. The ferry was booked for 12 but traffic was appalling and we arrived 5 minutes after final check in and had to wait for the 2pm ferry. This at least afforded me the chance for a shower after driving for almost 5 straight hours, even if I had to sneak in as it was meant to be only for truckers. Also gave Macky his birthday present early. I had been carrying it since Download Festival but knew there would be more available at Leeds Fest so had to give it to him before he got himself one. A skull printed face mask which he wore more often than not the entire time we were in England.
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