TravelStream™ news feed for member smartypants_inc on TravelPod's free travel blogs service http://www.travelpod.com/syndication/rss/smartypants_inc en-us Copyright ©2009 TravelPod.com Wed, 07 Jun 2006 17:22:32 -0400 http://www.travelpod.com http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/smartypants_inc/oh_la_la/1147809540/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/smartypants_inc/oh_la_la/1147809540/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/smartypants_inc/oh_la_la/1147809540/tpod.html Wed, 07 Jun 2006 17:22:32 -0400 I'll have two scoops of France with a dallop of Spain please.

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Barcelona, Spain

After less than a day of recovery from our weekend, Kathryn Scott and I rented a car and drove to Barcelona. It's a full 7 hour drive if you only stop once. We stopped 5 times. We left at 11:30 that morning and finally reached our hotel a little before 9 that night, just in time for dinner. Consulting my lonely planet guide I directed us to the "oldest restaurant in Barcelona." Can Cullerentes. Since I don't have the exact date in front of me I don't want to speculate, but we're talking like centuries old here, and they have definitely perfected some serious Catalonian cuisine. After dinner we walked along La Rambla the city's main drag, rife with street performers and people drinking goblets of Sangria so big I think I could have stuck my whole head in one.

Barcelona seems to be built for mischief. No matter what it is you want or where you need to go to get it, there will surely be several dark dank alleyways you will venture down with small groups of people puffing big clouds of smoke and avoiding the drops of water coming from fire escapes and gathering in black puddles in the streets. Seriously, downtown Barcelona was a bit like Gotham City. I loved it.

We only had one full day to see Barcelona so we did our best to wake up early and get our tourist shoes on (which would be reefs - all the stupid Americans are identified by flip-flops). Walking down La Rambla we oogled at the street performers, ooohhed and ahhhed at all the delectable delights at La Boqueria, the city's largest outdoor market, and coued over the baby animals for sale at different vendors along the street (if you ever need baby ducklings this would be the place to find them). We walked and walked and walked until we saw what we were looking for, Case Batillo, one of Antoni Gaudi's famous architectural structures. If you don't know Gaudi, his edifices (I know I like an elitist retard saying 'structures' and 'edifices', but I just can't bring myself to call his stuff buildings or apartments because they are all monuments to architectural innovation - fancy pants lingo is allowed as far as I'm concerned.) are pure crazy modernist genius. I was totally in awe walking through the place. We went to two more of his great works, La Pedrerra and La Segrada De Familia. We didn't have time to go inside La Pedrerra unfortunately because we wanted to save as much time for La Segrada, a MASSIVE unfinished church with three separate sections representing different aspects of Jesus' Nativity, Passion, and Renunciation (I think). It was built in the very early part of the century and after Gaudi was run over by a tram (yes a tram not a train) in 1926 it was left with at least a centuries worth of work for future architects to complete it (it's supposed to be finished by 2026). I know absolutely zilch about architecture, but this thing is such a work of art it would take a total fool (and I'm just topping 45% fool) not to appreciate it.

So after our day of sightseeing we were pretty exhausted. We went back to our hotel to recharge for the evening, and it was a very big evening indeed. We just happened to pick an exciting night to be in Barcelona - a qualifying match for the world cup was being played in Paris - Barca vs Arsenal which really means Spain is going to war on the soccer field against England. When we ventured out again La Rambla was starting to fills with fans carrying signs and wearing soccer jerseys, once we arrived at our restaurant (in search of what was rumored to be one of the best places in the city for Paella) erratic screams and cheers were swelling up from bars and houses with big televisions all of the city. The manager at the restaurant we picked seated us with an enthusiastic "Go Barthelona!!!" and seemed in exceptionally good spirits even with Arsenal leading the game as we started our meal. We ordered our food. Barca scored, a free bottle of wine finds its way to our table. We cheer having just finished the first bottle of wine we ordered and, to support the team of course. As the meal continues we become the last party. Barca scores again, time is running out and Voila!!!! Barcelona prevails!!!! Garbage trucks are honking as they drive down the street and people are running in stampedes screaming and waving flags. The three of us are all thoroughly intoxicated and giddy with all the excitement. James, the manager, (we 're all on a first name basis now) brings out bottles champagne, some to drink some to take silly photos with he basically joins our table for the remainder of the evening.

In addition to free desserts and lots more free champagne, we received special commemorative medallions James had left over from a 100 year anniversary party the restaurant had held a few years ago and a private tour of the Queens dining room, yes she has her own private dining room. It was easily one of the most memorable dinners of my life.

Unfortunately moments after we left the restaurant, my memory has been totally erased. The last thing I remember is walking down the street a few feet and puking my guts out. This was because I had about the same amount to drink as my buddy Scott, who is 6'2 and 180 lbs - just a lil bigger than my midget self. The next thing I remember is waking up in my hotel room in the comfort of my bed with an extremely large trash can next to me for damage control. I have never suffered a complete blackout before, actually I had never gotten so drunk that I puked before so this was as much a novelty as it was a complete embarrassment, especially after I was briefed on the rest of the nights activities- how after I refused to walk Scott had to carry me, bitching and whining back to our hotel through crowds of screaming soccer fans. How I was totally incoherent as Katryn dragged me into the shower to clean myself up and get ready for bed ( Kathryn asked me if I needed help taking my clothes off and responded with the utmost confidence, "CIRCULAR FONT" perplexing her beyond recognition. (As far as I know, "circular font" does not exist, except in the depths of my drunken soul.)I was sick and hung over for the 8 hour drive back to Angouleme, and though I NEVER want to be that drunk ever again, I have nothing but fond memories of the night (thanks to aforementioned blackout) and I don't think I would change a thing about my whole trip, this included.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/smartypants_inc/oh_la_la/1148429760/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/smartypants_inc/oh_la_la/1148429760/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/smartypants_inc/oh_la_la/1148429760/tpod.html Wed, 07 Jun 2006 14:46:33 -0400 I'll have two scoops of France with a dallop of Spain please.

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Paris, France

You know that wonderful phenomenon that happens when you haven't seen someone for a really long time, but when you finally do see them, it's as if no time has passed? Well, that was me and France. It had been a while, we'd had some good times way back when, and reuniting was like I'd never been gone. Any foreigner disorientation I might have felt upon arrival was totally abated by having my best friend waiting for me at the airport holding a monstrous, florescent orange sign with my name on it. Yeah, nobody else had a bright orange welcome sign, so you can imagine I felt pretty damn special from the get go.

The first three days of my trip were spent in Paris. Walking along the Seine, sitting on boat riding along the Seine, taking pictures of the Seine, and crossing bridges over the Seine. It's a big nice river. I honestly think I could be happy living in very close proximity to it....not making any long term plans yet though.

I spent my first night in Paris roaming around the Latin Quarter, eating wonderful pasta, watching the street singers and making a fool of myself trying to remember my french-I believe I told a women in a bathroom (in an attempt to say a machine ate my change) that I like to munch on corners, and enjoying the company of Kathryn, something I have missed for the past year.

Day two was spent first at La Grande Episserie which is Paris' premier food shopping experience where I indulged in a broquette du pain (bread on a stick...nowhere but France right?), scoping out La Duree where Carrie sits next to the big dog in the final Paris episode of Sex and the City (wasn't sure if I was going to admit to that typical American touristy activity, but hey we all have moments of weakness), and checking out the Louvre's huge lines (which we choose not to stand in) and Notre Dame's huge stained glass windows. A late dinner took us to a really cool bar (that may be featured in the hotspot section of the really really great online magazine for twixters, www.twixtmagazine.com) that had one of the best Caesar salads I've ever had. Also, I just want to mention at this point, so I don't forget- seriously the yogurt in France is AMAZING. California cows just don't cut it.

We spent our last day in Paris, a Sunday, in the 3rd Arrondisment (Paris is shaped like a snail shell and all of her swirling layers are numbered) in an area called The Marias (pronounced 'morray'), which is heavily populated with Israelis and thus, one of the only areas where places are open on Sundays. For months and months Kathryn had been raving to me about falafel in the Marias and I can safely say that it is now one of my all time favorite foods (see picture of me plowing into my falafel like a vicious beast in the photo album).


During all of our Paris adventures, the Metro was our preferred mode of transportation second to feet. Kathryn taught me a few guessing games like "Are they American or German?" and "Is he gay, or just French?" She also instructed me on many of the French's most annoying characteristics, such as their inability to pass people when walking down the street. They just inch up really close to you like a pedestrian tailgater, and their fear of confrontation, it's as if the entire nation is slightly passive aggressive. For example while Kathryn and I were waiting for our train to Angouleme, the cafe we were sitting in was closing and we were the only people there. The staff started to look at each other quizzically and begin closing procedures but never told us that the cafe was closing. The staff just kept cleaning and putting up all the chairs and tables. Never once did they ask us to skidaddle, it was just assumed that we were supposed to "understand" it was time to go. So when we picked up our stuff to go and we're walking out, one of the staffers mumbled under his breath, "it's about time." Kathryn said this is common procedure all throughout France.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/smartypants_inc/oh_la_la/1148178960/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/smartypants_inc/oh_la_la/1148178960/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/smartypants_inc/oh_la_la/1148178960/tpod.html Tue, 06 Jun 2006 14:58:23 -0400 I'll have two scoops of France with a dallop of Spain please.

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Paris, France

After our whirlwind trip to Barcelona, we made it back to Angouleme on Thursday night, leaving me with one day to pack up all my stuff, say all my au revoirs, and prepare for the last leg of my trip, the only time that I would be traveling alone. As much I loved and cherished every second of my time with Kathryn and with Scott and all their friends, I have this little penchant for solo excursions, no one to else to consider, no one else's schedule, just total selfish meandering, so I was actually really excited to spend time in Paris with me, myself and I.

And with only 48 hours before my ass would be stuck on a plane back to the states for 14 hours, you better believe I didn't waste any time getting through my Paris "to do" list! First up, The Louvre, never been inside before. I basically dropped my stuff off in my hotel room and bolted towards the museum at wizard speed (which, if you aren't familiar with it, means wicked fast!) so that I could have at least 2 hours before it closed at six (little did I know it was actually Free after 6 and stayed open till midnight....only this one day out of the year....DOH!). So fast was my pace that I actually had a few stolen minutes at the Petite Palais, which was free that day for some reason(Cuz it was free museum day you idiot!). So I get to the Louvre at 3:45 and I manage to see bits and pieces of all three sections before closing time. It was just as I had expected, one of the most stately, elegant and impressive museums I have ever set foot inside. Well worth the uncomfortable blisters the walk over had given me. I recharged with a savory crepe parisienne(ham, cheese and mushrooms) and spent the remainder of the evening gathering souvenirs from various local haunts I had scouted out on my previous visit. Day one - complete success. I went to sleep early so as to ensure peak sight seeing capabilities for trip in the morning - The Palace of Versailles.

I was told Versailles is really a full day trip, but since I had done so well with the Louvre I was feeling a little cocky and figured I could pull it off in a half day . . . Um hah, NO WAY NO HOW. It is a beast of a palace. So many rooms, so many wings, and the gardens - Mon Dieux!!! I think I saw 50% from 10 am to 2 pm. What I did see was fantastic, but I definitely missed out on a lot of stuff I would have loved. No regrets though because If I had stayed all day I wouldn't have had the privilege of meeting up with my old friend Ian and his lovely girlfriend who are both living La Vie Boheme as working artists in Paris. I got to see the gallery where their clothes and accessories are sold and also their studio. It made me almost ashamed of my bland soulless advertising position working for The Man, but hey, c'est la vie.

I parted with Ian and Claire for a few hours while me myself and I had a date at the best little Falafel stand in Paris (L'as Du Falafel) and went to check out the Shakepseare and company bookstore, no relation to the Berkeley one and SO MUCH COOLER. They have beds you can lie down on! Then I headed back to my hotel to change for dinner and met up with Ian and Claire at what Ian described as the "most super French Bistro there is." No question in my mind that is was. The Restauarant Chartier was exactly what you'd want from an old French Bistro. Great decor, classic French Food, and bossy old waitresses who have work there all their lives and don't take shit from nobody. At one point Claire and I were worried that Ian was gonna duke it out with out lady over the absence of the Bernaise sauce on his Steak even though she told him his accent sucked so she didn't hear him right so it was his fault he didn't get what he wanted.

After dinner we strolled towards the Paris Opera house, which is beautiful and currently decorated with colorful cow statues) and picked up crepes on the way. We sat on the steps and watched all the tour buses drive past. It's like 11:45 at night mind you, and all the tourist would take pictures from inside the busses, wouldn't even get out, most busses didn't even come to a full halt. Not exactly my idea of sight seeing.

I parted with my friends around 12:30 and decided I really couldn't leave without seeing the Eiffel tower lit up, so I quickened my pace and made it over to catch the very last light show of the evening. I wasn't prepared for just how breathtaking the Eiffel is at night. And the lights show!!!! I tried to capture it on video but it just wasn't right to try and put it on film. It's something you've gotta see for yourself, and really, it's more beautiful than I'd ever imagined. I couldn't think of a more perfect last moment in Paris.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/smartypants_inc/oh_la_la/1148480760/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/smartypants_inc/oh_la_la/1148480760/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/smartypants_inc/oh_la_la/1148480760/tpod.html Tue, 06 Jun 2006 14:00:25 -0400 I'll have two scoops of France with a dallop of Spain please.

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Biarritz, France

Biarritz is the surfing capitol of France. Did I surf? Sadly, no. Did I see anyone surfing? Oddly, no. Did I lay out on the beach all day, shop up a storm, and dance until the wee hours of the morning with fabulous French gay men? Why yes! J'adore Biarritz!

A couple of Kathryn's friends were going to join us on our trip but chickened out at the last minute on account of sour weather reports, so again Kathryn and I were left to our own devices which is always a recipe for hilarious disasters and happy accidents.

We remained energized and optimistic about our weekend, even when greeted with gloomy skies and intermittent showers. In truth, even with crappy weather, this place is gorgeous, as my photos will corroborate. We spent our first afternoon and evening just checking things out, walking along the coastline. My first thoughts about the view were otherworldly, like scenes from "The Never-ending Story", like when Sebastian is flying across the water on his dragon (Falcor .... yes I know it's pathetic that I know this and what a big dork I am...but I digress).

I mean, I don't wanna knock my own coastal spot on Manhattan beach, BUT, shit, this places is A-MAZING. And this was before the sun came out the next day and shone across the clear torquiose water and we basked in the sun all day. Yes, um, I think I'd go back.

So after our first afternoon and evening exploring we sat down for an extremely late dinner which put us in just in time (or so we thought) at Club Playboy around 1 am. Kathryn had been to Biarritz a few weeks back and had tons of fun at the place so it was a bit of a shock when we walked through the entrance and the whole place was dead. With the exception of a half dozen men stumbling about the bar, personne(nobody in French) was there. Kathryn and I decide to give The Playboy the benefit of the doubt and take a seat on some couches when suddenly OH LA LA!!! a man slithers up behind Kathryn scaring the bejesus out of her ( btw: the French say "oh la la" in response to almost anything). He's drunk and French and really wants to buy us drinks and chat. We are not amused. He tries to charm us with free drinks and garbled English. We give him fake names and buy our own drinks thank you very much. He stumbled away and Kathryn and I run to the ladies room to regroup. We decide to switch seats so we can see oncoming approachers. The same fella comes back wearing an odd pink beanie with a crazy drunken friend. He's very disappointed that we bought our own drinks and insists that we owe him dance now. He's trying so hard to speak English we actually warm up to the guy....just a little though. As he is explaining to us how he just saw us from across the room and knew he just had to talk to us, a cute older man with a pink sweater around his shoulders runs up and puts his arm around pink beanie guy and whispers something into his ear. Kathryn and Pink Beanie and pink sweater guy all start chatting in French and suddenly a huge smile erupts on Kathryn's face. She leans in to convey some crucial information: "They're all gay Sarah." We both turn back around to the crowd and notice that as we've been talking several hoards of young, exceptionally clean looking men have all entered the establishment. I start to smile. Again, we excuse ourselves for some giggles in the ladies room. Damn! We should have let those fabulous men buy us drinks! How cute is that pink beanie! We decided that we should at least have a lil dance with our new friends before we leave, since a few more handfuls of men, even gay ones, wasn't gonna fill this place up. We wash our hand and head back out. We emerge from the bathroom to find the whole place PACKED. Total transformation. The music was bumping, the dance floor was filled with gay French fabulousness. We were in heaven. In short, we danced the night away with Pink beanie and pink sweater guy. As far as first experience as gay clubs go ( and this was my first), it was definitely one for the record books.

A few highlights:
Being Reeled into a tango via pink sweater.
Pole Dancing
Having an awkward looking German boy get really really close to my ear and screaming at the top of his lungs
I WANT TO TOUCH YOUR TITS
Being followed into the bathroom by some Morrocan guy with the worst BO I've ever smelled ever.

As we walked home that night, Kathryn and I both agree that we wouldn't go out the next evening because really, nothing could top The Playboy and our fabulous gay Frenchmen.

We spent the morning sleeping in and the afternoon lying on the beach (tough life eh?) and then we set up shop at the little restaurant situated in this little cave-ish inlet hallowed out of one of the cliffs overlooking the water to have drink and watch the sunset . . . at about 9:30 pm. We hit up a little bistro for dinner where we made friends with a lovely gay (well we aren't 100% on this one, he may have just been French; it's a challenging game!) waiter. An evening well spent.

On Sunday we made the trek out to the lighthouse which rests way up high (as lighthouses are oft to do) and is perfectly placed so that you get the full view of the Biarritz coastline. And we shopped and ate pastries. The End.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/smartypants_inc/oh_la_la/1148446020/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/smartypants_inc/oh_la_la/1148446020/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/smartypants_inc/oh_la_la/1148446020/tpod.html Mon, 29 May 2006 02:16:14 -0400 I'll have two scoops of France with a dallop of Spain please.

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Angouleme, France

In the south west of France, at the top of a hill overlooking the Charente River lies the city of Angoulme, the comic book capital of THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD. No joke. This is where Tin Tin began. In the center of town stands a huge head of Herge, its creator, and the comic book festival that takes place there every spring draws comic connesiurs the world over. Other than that, Angouleme is your typical gorgeous little French city.

Most of my time here was spent sitting in on Kathryn's classes. She teaches English to several different age groups ranging from 5 to 12 years old. French kids are so frenchin cute!!!!!!! And they love Americans, especially Californians, especially from Hollywood. So Kathryn decided to add me to the schedule of most of her classes. I'd stand up, and all the kids could ask me anything they wanted to, as long as they could ask it in English. Of course, this didn't work out perfectly because they could only ask three things - Ow Are OU? Ow old are ou? and What izzz zee Weazzer like? So Kathryn started translating and I got to get into my whole family history at certain points, little Diane Sawyers they all are. One girl was fascinated by my parents divorce, and one class got so excited about me being a writer that the entire class wanted my autograph- screaming children vying for my signature, never have I felt cooler.

The other really cool thing about Angouleme was meeting all of Kathyn and Scott's new buddies. One seriously great group of people. And good thing too, cuz they all live in very close quarters, dorm room style. Most nights were spent drinking wine, everyone crammed into one persons tiny little room laughing and telling stories in "Franglais".
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/smartypants_inc/oh_la_la/1148444460/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/smartypants_inc/oh_la_la/1148444460/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/smartypants_inc/oh_la_la/1148444460/tpod.html Mon, 29 May 2006 02:10:15 -0400 I'll have two scoops of France with a dallop of Spain please.

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Cognac, France

My first day away from Paris was a day trip to Congac where I visited the Otare cognac distillery, which is housed in an 16th century palace built by king Francis the 1st - bad ass

Kathryn's Boyfriend Scott just started his job there as a tour guide for English speakers. Kathryn and I went "undercover" ( as in pretended we didn't know Scott so we could shower him with compliments and excessive tips and hope that fellow tourists would follow suit). The walls of the palace all smell of cognac, which is quite pleasant actually. Scott's peasant garb was a highlight of our little excursion, as was the $150 Cognac we all got to sample at the end of the tour. Unfortunately, after enjoying this subtle delicacy, one of Scotts co-workers, a cool chick from Denmark, shoved these Haribo candies in our mouths that she said she just loved and can't get them anywhere else. The were little DOT-shaped licorice flavored morsels, which in general I find disgusting, but to top it off these little guys were covered in salt and this fishy flavor. I mean, we're talking Willa Wonka gone horrifically wrong here. After the three of us politely smiled and thanked her for the nice gesture, we turned and walked (at a speedy pace) around the corner and spit them out on the ancient palace steps. Note: If ever in Denmark, NO CANDY.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/smartypants_inc/oh_la_la/1148653080/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/smartypants_inc/oh_la_la/1148653080/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/smartypants_inc/oh_la_la/1148653080/tpod.html Mon, 29 May 2006 02:06:32 -0400 I'll have two scoops of France with a dallop of Spain please.

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Los Angeles, California, United States

Found Art, Silly Snap shots, Random Delectibles - find them all here.
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