The Long and Winding Road Home - Part IV - Minneapolis

Whoever planned my return must have thought that I was some sort of superhuman who could exist as a vagabond for months on end... no home, no stability, living out of suitcases and with a constant stream of new people, new places, and new challenges. Ahh, yes, it was ME that made the arrangements, and I was clearly not thinking straight when I booked my many-legged journey back to SF.

After the most uncomfortable seven-hour flight of my entire life (that is saying a lot, trust me), I arrived at Chicago's O'Hare bleary eyed and ready for some relaxation. Unfortunately, due to the very long delay in London - where they made everyone who was already on the flight from India exit the plane and go through security again - we all missed our connecting flights and would have to spend the night at a hotel in Chicago. Fortunately, they paid for it, but it would have been so much nicer to finally be at my sister's house in Minneapolis/St. Paul.

The next morning, I caught the shuttle to O'Hare again, and I was suddenly struck by the fact that I was back in the good ol' U.S of A. Everyone at the hotel, on the shuttle, and at the airport was hyper-efficient. They jogged to and fro with jugs of Starbucks coffee in hand, chattering away a thousand words a minute while multitasking on their palm devices, laptops and cell phones. WHOA!!! Slow down.

In Spain, I once made the mistake of ordering a latte at Starbucks and actually taking it to go. People on the streets looked at me like I had just descended from a spaceship and had green antennae on my head. Why would anyone want to walk while they were enjoying their coffee and pastry? In the Spanish paradigm, all pleasurable food and beverage intake should be enjoyed with your butt firmly planted in a comfortable seat with friends - preferably on an outdoor terrace on a nice day. The American agenda just doesn't allow time for that, apparently, and I was suddenly a stranger among my own people.

Shortly thereafter, I had my second realization - we are at war. The airport was full of soldiers in their fatigues who had been home on holiday leave, and were headed back to the Middle East to continue their tour of duty. They looked like children to me, and more than any time since we started this crazy invasion, the gravity and the sadness of it really hit home.

Soldiers in Chicago

I finally caught my flight and was greeted at the airport by my amazing sister Michelle and her son Andrew. The next five days in Minneapolis/St. Paul would be just the gentle landing I needed to start my reintegration into American life, surrounded by family and their friends.

The Arrival

Minneapolis, while definitely urban, felt quiet compared to the frenetic pace of Madrid, and everyone seemed so pale and blond. I suddenly blended into the crowd, instead of standing out as such an obvious outsider as I had become accustomed.

Downtown Minneapolis

A couple of days into my stay in Minnesota, my mother arrived from my home state of Nebraska to take me back the the Great Plains for a couple weeks more of quality family time.

The Long and Winding Road Home - Part III - London

Spider Web Window at Waterloo Station in London

After a dreamy few days in Paris, our arrival in London landed like a dull, gray thud. The famously dreary London weather, coupled with the correspondingly foul disposition of the residents had us a bit taken aback. The fond illusions of dreamy, effortless conversations in our native tongue turned to nightmares of confusion and disillusionment as one person after another was dismissive, unfriendly or downright rude. Fortunately, that evening we had scheduled to meet with one of my good friends from San Francisco, Victoria.

Victoria and Daughter Zoe (Guest Appearance by Hello Kitty)

Victoria has lived in London for a couple of years now, and seems to have been experiencing the British version of Transglobal Permutation. Victoria and I howled with laughter and grimaced in pain as we recounted our experiences abroad to one another. It was so nice to know that I was not the only one who had undergone extreme culture shock on my foray into a foreign culture. But it seems like after a rocky start, Victoria is easing into the British way of life now, as I finally did in Spain. She was also kind enough to introduce us to the King William IV pub in Hampstead, a nice laid-back alternative to the more frenetic SoHo bars we would see later in the trip.

The next day - New Year's Eve - we set out on a hike of the most popular sites in London. Our first stop - The London Eye - was unfortunately sold out. Built in 1999, it is currently the largest Ferris wheel in the world. So large, in fact, that they call it an "observation wheel." Each car is actually a mini observation deck that holds up to 25 people. They call them "capsules," which is just weird, but then I guess they kinda look like a Valium or something... or you might need one once they hoist your ass up into the danged thing. The wheel is nearly 443 feet (135 meters) high at its highest point, so must take a bit of nerve, but then, we wouldn't know, because we didn't get to go on it... waaaahhhh!

The London Eye

Then we made our way toward the bridge to Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament. I caught a nice shot of the old chap in the distance.

Big Ben

We continued over the bridge towards Big Ben and Westminster Abbey. (This is not the London Bridge of children's song fame, but some other ordinary and less important bridge named Westminster Bridge. BTW, the true London Bridge isn't even in London anymore, according to some guy I overheard on the London tube one day. He said that it was bought by some rich guy in the U.S., and is now in Lake Havasu City, Arizona. So, see what being a famous bridge gets you?! A spot in Arizona, great! Geez, sorry about that, guess I had some pent up feelings about the London Bridge deception conspiracy. But I digress...

So, we walked and walked, past Westminster Abbey - interesting - but I was already experiencing Amazing Historical Monument Fatigue, so really nothing impressed me anymore. But then, we walked through a park that was so sparse and gray amidst the already gray backdrop that I thought that I might just die of depression. But, no, I lived, only to see the famed Buckingham Palace, where her majesty The Queen lives. You know what? That was the most boring, uninspired lump of stone I've seen in a long time. The perfect way to top it off. NOT that we can really complain about uninspired lumps of stone here in the U.S., we have plenty of them, but I guess I just expected a little something more. At least the guards were mildly entertaining.

Buckingham What?
The Famously Stoic Guard


As night fell, we pressed on to Piccadilly Circus and then Oxford Street for a little low budget shopping before heading back to the hotel to freshen up for The Big Night, New Year’s Eve.

After a little disco nap at the hostel, we hopped the underground back to SoHo to go out for the evening’s festivities. The streets were hopping, and it definitely felt like something was HAPPENING in downtown London that night. We settled on a laid back gentlemen’s pub to relax for a while before the turn of the New Year. After an hour or so hanging out, socializing, taking in the crowd, we decided to go out into the street for the midnight celebration. We skipped the big fireworks by Big Ben, but I caught this mini fireworks display when we wandered towards the masses at Piccadilly Circus.


Piccadilly Circus - Freaks and Fireworks

It was chaos, as is often the case on big holidays like that. Fun chaos for me, but Paul was not so entertained. We then went to a disco called Bar Code, which had great music, a cool crowd and generally good vibe, but after about an hour of bopping to the beat and watching the crowd's antics, we made a move toward home. After Paul burst out in a 20-minute tirade about how much he hates big holidays and the crowds and the stupidity, we actually encountered one of the exemplary reasons that it may often be better to just stay home: there were so many people trying to leave at the same time that they were closing all of the tube stations. We ended up walking and walking in circles until we FINALLY found one that was letting people descend to catch the trains, and we got home soon thereafter.

On New Year's Day, we took it easy and the only highlight was probably spending $50 for hamburgers, fries and shakes after visiting the Hampstead Heath. OK, the food was good, but it was way too pricey for what we got. Just par for the course in London, which is expensive by anyone’s standards, but outrageously so for Americans, as the British Pound is the 800-pound gorilla of currencies and completely overpowers the meek little dollar.

The next day we parted ways. Paul returned to San Francisco and I was off to Minnesota to see my sister and her family. On my train to the airport, I saw the ubiquitous Mind the Gap slogan on one of the platforms, and I finally understood all those t-shirts, hats and other paraphernalia I'd seen over the years. Oh, THE GAP, hehe.

Safety on the Subway Platform

The Long and Winding Road Home - Part II - Paris

In case you haven’t heard, Paris is beautiful. Yes, it’s cliché, but it’s true - the buildings, the avenues, the rivers, the people, the food - it’s enchanting, and we were immediately captivated. The first night, after successfully navigating our way through an amazingly rich and wonderful meal with no more than five words of French between the two of us, I talked Paul into taking a quick walk across the river Seine. I remembered from my 12-hour stopover in Paris a couple of years back that many of the most recognizable treasures can be seen within a few blocks of each other near the river. We first came upon the Hôtel de Ville building, which was decorated with these strange glowing glitter puffs for the holidays.

Hôtel de Ville

Then, when crossing the river to Notre Dame cathedral, we caught a glimpse of a familiar sight in the distance.

The Seine with the Eiffel Tower in the Distance

Just a few hundred feet later, we were gazing in wonderment at the cathedral.

Notre Dame by Night

We wandered back to our hostel, starry eyed and content. By the next day, we had pretty much come to the conclusion that we had somehow been placed in the Arab Heaven section of Paris. Every time we walked out the door, there were like 10 beautiful French Arabs in crossing our path, answering our questions at the reception desk, serving us at dinner.

In general, the people in Paris shattered my preconceived notion of the French as a rude and cold people who shirked off foreigners at the first sign that they were different. There certainly were still strained moments, but it was generally a pretty positive experience. Perhaps nearly a year in Spain had transformed me into more of the aggressive tourist that gets results. At least we didn't succumb to "Paris Syndrome". It could have gotten downright ugly.

On day two, we set out on a trek of famous sights in what was a very icy-feeling gray haze. We passed by the Louvre museum, which is housed in what was for centuries the royal palace before it was opened as an art museum in 1793. The building is HUGE and beautiful, as are the surrounding statues and monuments. I love the pyramid, which was quite controversial when it was opened in 1989.

You've Got to Love the Louvre
Inside the Pyramid

Paul got a couple of really nice pics while we were strolling through the adjacent Tuilerie Gardens, including a near-perfect image of a quintessentially French soldier in his red beret and fatigues.

On Guard in the Gardens

Statue in Tuilerie Gardens

We went to the Louvre the next day and saw the Mona Lisa, among other amazingly famous and beautiful works of art. I was actually unimpressed with the Mona Lisa, although I'm a bit of an artistic neophyte. I don’t really understand why it is such a famous and ubiquitous icon in the world's art culture. We saw another DaVinci at the Louvre that I think far surpasses Ms. Lisa in overall effect - The Virgin of the Rocks.

The Virgin of the Rocks (Louvre File Picture)

We continued on to wander through the gardens and past a huge ferris wheel (but not as huge as the one we were to see in London in a few days.) Just when we thought we might freeze to death, we made it to Champ Elysées to stop for a café au lait in a very crowded sidewalk café. Paul tried to sneak a picture of this amazing old French woman with a huge fur coat puffing at a cigarette with a very long and elegant cigarette holder. The flash went off, completely startling Paul, and the picture blurred in Paul’s rush to conceal the camera. The woman immediately noticed that something strange was up, but Paul just flashed her a big smile, which she reluctantly returned before cattily turning her attention back to her never-ending cigarette and steaming coffee. Although we missed the shot, the image will be forever burned in our memories as a quintessential Parisian experience.

Off we meandered anew with our renewed energy and warmth. At the end of the shopping district on Champs-Elysées is the Arc du Triomph. This is one of those images (as are many in Paris) that is so famous that you have seen it a million times in Photographs, on advertisements, in movies. I was actually taken aback by how big the thing is. Look close at this picture and you can see the people on the top walking around on the observation deck. I thought it was like a one-car tubular deal, but NOOOO, you could get a freeway through there, and they pretty much do :)

Arc du Triomph

About the time of our second and more severe impending frostbite, we finally started to approach the Eiffel Tower. The tower is probably the most famous image in the world, so to come up on this thing from afar at dusk in the freezing cold was quite an experience. The fear of death by freeze made the pilgrimage all the more intense and special… as long as we would be able to make it. While the tower was still off in the distance, the hourly light show that has frequently been chided as tacky and inappropriate started it’s little dance. Paul took one of those surreal flash in the dark pics of me with the spectacle.



In spite of losing feeling in various body parts, we pushed on to the glowing monument. When we finally arrived, you could barely see the tip from the base, but all the fog gave a very cool effect.

Eiffel in the Hazy Dusk

Eerie Eiffel Glow

The next couple of days were very low key. We took in the good food and enchanting atmosphere without too much pressure to fill up our itinerary with essential sights and activities. I went back to Notre Dame during the daytime to get some pictures of the gargoyles on the sides of the church that are sooo strange and creepy.




I also ventured inside during a special holiday choral performance and got a couple of good shots of the inner sanctum.

Strange Use of a Picture Frame for Accent
Psychedelic Chandelier Shot

The final night, we made the trek up Montmartre to see the Basilica of Sacre Coeur. In addition to it's long and crazy history, this spot has one of the best views of Paris. Strange about European cities, though: the great views just don't have quite the same impact as in American cities. Something about those dramatic U.S. skylines... I really loved the basilica, though. It looked so majestic perched atop the hill.

Sacre Coeur

The next morning, we reluctantly packed up to continue on to the next leg of our journey, and boarded the Eurostar train. It goes from Paris to London in less than three hours. Pretty quick, eh?



Off to another culture, and my last European destination on this trek. At least we'd be able to speak in our native tongue... well, sort of.

The Long and Winding Road Home - Part I - Madrid

By the time that my friend Paul was to arrive in Madrid on December 19, I had already gone through a rollercoaster of emotions and a whirlwind of goodbyes, but had pretty much come to peace with the reality - I was leaving the place I loved. I’m glad I got that out of the way beforehand, because there was a new rollercoaster soon to come my way.

Paul’s flight was scheduled to arrive at 7 AM at Barajas airport, which is at least an hour by metro from my place, after which I had to catch a shuttle bus from the metro stop to the new Terminal 4 where he was supposed to be arriving. I seriously had not been up that early the entire time I'd been in Spain (unless I was coming at it from the other side), but being the good friend I am, I made the trek to the airport.

So, I was running a bit late (imagine), but not too terribly late, but late enough that when I arrived, and saw that the flight had already arrived, I wasn’t sure if we’d missed each other. I waited… and I waited… and I waited some more. Finally, I asked at the information desk if it was possible that the passengers from his flight were still awaiting their luggage, and they assured me that anyone from that flight should have already received their luggage and left the building. As a last ditch effort, I decided to call Paul’s hostel to see if he had arrived there... nothing.

I didn’t know what to do, and by this point, it was nearing noon. I decided to hop the bus to the metro for the hour plus journey home, only to arrive home to an email message from one of our friends in San Francisco, explaining that Paul’s flight had been delayed from SFO, that he missed his connecting flight, and he would be on another flight that arrived at 3:45 PM. I sighed a huge, pregnant, unhappy sigh, and headed back to the metro to the bus to the airport. Just as I was pulling up at the airport metro stop for the second time, I received a message alert on my phone. It was a message from Paul saying that he’d caught an earlier flight, that he was already at the hostel, and that on top of it all, the airline had lost his luggage. I’m not sure what kind of noises I made when I received that message, but I can tell you that they were not happy noises, nor were they pleasant noises. They were very, very NOT happy noises, but what can you do? It was the luck of the airline goddesses, and it was not on our side on this trip.

At least I had some time (during my four hours at the airport) to snap some good shots of the new Terminal 4 at Barajas, which is amazingly beautiful and modernistic and has won a slew of design awards. BTW, I take back what I said in one of my first blog entries about Barajas being archaic. Seems pretty danged modern nowadays.







Needless to say, it was a very happy, albeit frustrated moment when I finally arrived to the hostel and gave Paul his WELCOME TO MADRID hug :) Over the next couple of days, we toured the city together. It was his second time in Madrid, but I'd say he probably had more fun this time, though I’m probably biased. On December 23, my friend Jerry arrived for to join in the fun. We had the best few days together and a really laid back and entertaining Christmas. I got to introduce them to my good friends Will, Edison and David, and we had good food and good times (for the most part.) There was that one incident where we almost froze to death while waiting for a cab into the city center, but we survived and were the stronger for it!

We acted like statues...



...then Paul and Jerry acted like even stranger statues...



...then, after having so much fun together on Christmas night, we had to say goodbye to Jerry :(

On December 26, Paul and I proceeded to pack up my belongings, ship a couple of boxes to SF and hop a flight to Paris for the next leg of our adventure. Bon voyage, eh?

Feelin' the Burn

I'm having flashback syndrome on the travel fatigue I experienced at the beginning of this wild adventure, when I travelled to Zurich and Madrid, dropped a couple of bags, and then travelled around Turkey before settling down in Madrid for many months. I'm now in Chicago, at the end my my long and winding road back to SF. Will be arriving in OAK on Wednesday. Sleeping in my sixth bed since I left Madrid and think I have a dislocated soul or something from so many changes in such a short amount of time. I didn't really think that travelling this much on my way back would be as taxing as it would be fulfilling, but definitely about equal amounts of each. I have really loved all of the experiences, though, and can't wait to share. Too much input and not enough time for processing right now. Soon, you shall hear more of the adventuresome Euro-Jeff return route :)

Hasta Pronto,
Sleepy in Chicago

Madrid Transformed into a City of Lights

My friend who visited Madrid for the holidays a year ago told me that they had amazing and tasteful holiday decorations, so I was eagerly anticipating the spectacle as the holidays approached. The first sneak peek I got was when these weird amoeba-like strands appeared on Gran Via one day.



It was several weeks before they'd actually be lit, but every day new strange holiday things started to appear in different parts of the city. Finally, one day in early December, They lit up the Gran Via series of lights... WOW!



The next day, I showed up to Plaza de Castilla, where I spend several hours a week waiting for buses to the outskirts to teach my students. When I emerged from the subway, I looked up and saw the most beautiful star of lights hanging between the Puerta de Europa skyscrapers. The buildings were built at an angle, so it looks like the star is drawing them together :)



There are literally thousands of people passing through this area every hour, and everyone seemed to just stop under the star and gaze upward in amazement. Here's a closer picture I captured with the zoom on my camera.



And then on the other side of the plaza, they have this huge and amazing Christmas tree of lights.




During the next several weeks, the mystery of Christmas in Madrid unfolded for me, along with dazzling lights, festivals of fire, Nativity scenes and depictions of the Three Magic Kings.

Three Kings Light Show at El Corte Ingles
Three Kings Light Show - Detail

The Spanish tradition is for the three magic kings (known as the three wise men in the U.S.) to bring gifts to Spanish children on January 6th as they ride through on their camels. This site gives a good expanded overview of Spanish Christmas traditions. Father Noel (known as Santa Claus in the U.S.) is becoming increasingly popular in Spain, as he brings the gifts a few days earlier, giving the kids more play time before they have to return to school in early January.

The other popular tradition for Spaniards is a depiction of the nativity scene, known as a Belen (literally, Bethlehem). There was a competition between churches and public buildings this year in Madrid for the best Belen, but unfortunately I was only able to see a few of the entrants. Here's a scene from the Belen at Barajas airport that was really nice. There are coins in the sand to give you an idea of scale.



A couple of weeks before Christmas, there was a festival to kickoff the Christmas festivities in the Plaza de Oriente near the Opera and the Royal Palace. There were beautiful displays of fire throughout the plaza.





There were also live musicians and performers in different nooks and crannies of the park. I caught this DJ near the Royal Palace who was remixing traditional classical Christmas music into a strange sort of holiday dance mix.



In the background was the Christmas tree for the Royal Palace. Kind of psychedelic, don't you think?




Even the fountain at Plaza de Cibeles got a little extra flair for the holidays...



Plaza del Sol was also aglow with lights. Here's the series going down Calle Mayor away from the plaza...



But, I think my favorites were the spirals leading up to the Puerta de Alcala and the Nativity scene in monument passageways.





After a month of looking at all of this beauty and spectacle, I still couldn't get enough. The city spends 3.5 million Euros (approximately $4.5 million) on their Christmas extravaganza each year. I think it's worth every centimo.