No Spain, no Gain

If you had told me...

noreply@blogger.com (Ksenia) — Mon, 14 Dec 2009 12:18:00 +0000

(Yes, I have finally found my flowers in BCN. As metaphorically trite and cheesy as it sounds. And, fyi, I found them leagues before I found Vero.)

A year ago, hell, even last spring, when I already knew that I was going to be spending the year in Barcelona, that I would be:

-reading about the magic particularities of el camp català, and translating/processing the català into castellano, for the paper I will write, en castellano, but for my, Agricultura Catalana class.

-asking my aragonesa roommate to play, "Corazón" by Canto del Loco [yes, we are going to the concert] in the morning to get me the hell out of bed

-making her fried black bread, and it being one of the only things that she likes out of everything I eat/cook

-studying in my socks-in-crocs combination in the study room, because it keeps my feet warm and I can no longer wear crocs outside. Yes, this is what spending a year in Europe does to you. (For the better!)

-lecturing (softly?) others on how life is lived in the present, and how we must use the past as a base for our experience, but not let it dominate our lives. and also that scary thoughts are not the truth, and must be allowed to enter, and just as quickly, leave, our minds.

-believing all of that, after years of reading books about the art of happiness/mindfulness, etc, and shaking my head

-and, as you've already come to expect, let's mention something about meeting *certain people* for study breaks, because it's worth it to see them for however long you can, even if it's only half an hour.

-oh, and meeting them and discussing phone company switching so the daily calls can sale más barato. (turn out more cheaply).

...I would have not believed you. Mainly because it's really strange to see how many things have stayed the same, and how many things have changed. And how I always have these fantastical images of things that never come true, but better things fill their place. (As always, when you're least expecting it.)

It's strange. It's strange that this is my life now. Because at the end of the day, it's just life. But it's so much more fabulous in Barcelona. (Although, I think that's directly related to that pledge you sign when you matriculate at the UoC- stellar education and the lowest quality of life this side of not being miserably poor).

[This concludes procrastination post #2. Back to autonomia agraria?]

Finals week stress, or how Ksenia's face got eaten by a cucumber sandwich, and Ana killed the chimpanzees

noreply@blogger.com (Ksenia) — Sun, 13 Dec 2009 21:28:00 +0000

The last edible thing in the house: the one remaining cucumber and the second-to-last piece of black bread. Ana turns her head and prods, "Kseniiiiiiiiiiaaa!!!!! Whaaaaaat's thatttt?!!!"

Apparently she just saw this big green square approaching my face and the poor dear was concerned.

Then, it tocó a mí to be concerned, as Ana started with the following,

"Don’t worry about my mental health, Ksenia, even though, I have passed the entire day with chimpanzees.

It is always the fault of the chimpanzees!

But don't worry about them either, because I will kill them all!"

In other news, we are actually getting work done.

¡Véte a fregar, Vodafone!

noreply@blogger.com (Ksenia) — Sat, 12 Dec 2009 21:29:00 +0000

Speaking móvil-móvil in España is ridiculously expensive. It's basically .50 euro cents per minute, so a conversation of 12 minutes will set you back about 6 euros, which is about $9. Jo-der.

This is a big, big problem as Ksenia now has someone in her life she can't go a day without talking to. (That's dramatic. I'd really rather not go a day without talking to her.)

*Véte a fregar is an insult equivalent to, "Go to hell!," but means, "Go wash (the plates)!" instead. I'd like to think it's quite progressive in that saying that would be an insult-not an everyday thing that one could say to a womyn. But maybe it's actually the opposite. What do we think?

>Don't worry. We're going to investigate options and switch companies! (Which is really nothing-just switching a SIMcard.)

I'm Back!

noreply@blogger.com (Ksenia) — Thu, 10 Dec 2009 13:15:00 +0000

Kind of. Haven't blogged in a while because have been alternating weeks of social busy-ness/freaking out about work I must do/Carla visiting (this will get an entire blog post to itself, and probably more than one)/kind-of doing the work I have to do.

If I was a good blog planner, I would have scheduled posts ahead of time. I do have lots to write about, and have been taking pictures with this bloggy-o in mind.

Instead, I am going to show you a picture of the fantastic tabbouleh in bulk that I have made:

Here is a picture of it with the stove in the background so you can really see the massive amount that I have.

Those that have been reading the blog since summertime know that I don't do things in reasonable quantities. (Here I be referencing the 74 pounds of cherries fiasco). But this time, everything came together so perfectly. Had tomatoes, parsley, and lemons that needed using up, and that bag of bulgur that I have been meaning to use for a very long time. (Today though, I did buy a massive parsley tree to complement what I had. The storeowner asked me how much I wanted, and I nonchalantly replied, "Oh, I'll take the whole thing.")

Right, so, why so much tabbouleh?

Monday-Italian exam

Wednesday-presentation

Thursday-hand in paper I haven't started yet

Friday-hand in other paper

That's why. Since cooking takes up a good chunk of my time, we're preparing in advance.

And maybe this blogpost is a form of procrastination. What are you going to do about it?

[Obviously, wait until another one, or wait until after next Friday, during which at some point I will start my new, "Why I love Barcelona" series.]

The Inevitable

noreply@blogger.com (Ksenia) — Wed, 18 Nov 2009 12:26:00 +0000

It was at this very moment that I began to like Barcelona. It is not my favorite city, but I can appreciate it for the rather spectacular offerings on hand. (Bad picture, I know. It was a sneak peak of the rooftop of Casa Mila/more famously known as La Pedrera).

Here, I can walk home drunk and giddy at 6:30 am, with birds chirping around me, and watch the sun rise behind the Sagrada Familia. If I am moody and pensive, I take the 20 minute walk to the beach and sit at the foot of the Mediterranean. I can ask someone out on a painting date to Parc Guell, (which I am actually about to do) go through the play-by-play of a raucous gay party while sipping tea in a plaza that inspired an entire book, (!) and, I do believe this needs repeating, walk through one of the best preserved medieval districts in the world to attend class.

I'm still suffering from self-doubt and fear of the future; I've started having actual panic attacks, (more on that later) and am still constantly tempted to curl up in bed with half a bakery and never crawl out. But when those times hit, I can call up a friend for comfort and emotional support, and meet them on the backsteps of Santa Maria del Mar. Volunteers built the church by carrying stones on their back from Montjuic to El Born. If they can carry their spine-crushing stones, I can certainly carry my existential angst.

If it isn't obvious, (and I know that to many of you, quite inevitable) I'm falling in love. With the city, with the perks of Mediterranean life, and with my time here, which could easily turn into the best year of my life.

We have Groceries!

noreply@blogger.com (Ksenia) — Sun, 15 Nov 2009 22:07:00 +0000

Mira:

2 delicious soy yogurts. Prune and banana.

Alfalfa sprouts (Eeep!)

Bread

Exactly a kilo of potatoes

Honey (for making skillet granola)

two types of tomato sauce

two jars of local Catalan apple juice

Almond cream (not as good as it sounds)

an assortment of wild mushrooms

and a package of a strange, rubbery type of wild mushrooms. it was only a euro..

And don't worry. This was all bought/picture was taken on Monday. So we did not go a whole two weeks without groceries, as is normal enough in the UoC universe...

*And no, I never thought I'd be the persyn taking pictures of her groceries and blogging about them either.

Why we don't have groceries

noreply@blogger.com (Ksenia) — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 12:57:00 +0000

From last week:

(*even though I am only buying groceries today! Yesterday I had pancakes because we had the products necessary for that.)

Tuesday:

Wake up, computer, yoga, copy notes I missed for my Guerra Civil class. Finish up a journal entry, read, make oatmeal, write out list of things to do for the day. Find a Vodafone store very close to us on GoogleMaps. Decide to take a nap before I set out to run errands (everything was closed anyway as people were taking their own naps). Get up, go in search of Vodafone store, it was not there, in fact, nothing was, wound up walking almost to the beach, made the loop back. Decided to go to El Born because I thought I saw a Vodafone store there. It was not, but I found an extremely cool bulk goods store (they actually sell things in big sacks), but was too scared and anxiety ridden to go in. Bought two delicious chocolate croissants, made my library card, (also very scary process, especially because I was sweating the whole time) bought a new teapot, 3 chupa-chups, some fruit, and went home. Again, too nervous to eat. Had plans to go to Brasilian movie (with an actual Brasilian?) but was extremely stupid and juvenile, called her too late. Had subsequent nervous attack, felt like i was going to fail everything forever, called friend to deal with it, went to her apartment in Born, had tea, walked around Barceloneta making our way to the beach, found people she knew. Had very lovely chat with Argentino about how "el arte salva," the conundrums of staying/going, etc. Came home at 1ish..

Wednesday:

Wake up, do necessary things on computer, do yoga, finish the oatmeal, eat jam and bread because there's nothing else, get ready, go to class from 3:30-5. After class, directly go to a conference on womyn in modernism. Leave conference at 7:15 to go to Italian class at 7:30. Get out at 9:30 pm, go eat falafel with Spanish friend from class and ramble around El Raval until it was time to go home. (11:40ish..)

Thursday:

Wake up, computer, yoga, quickly go buy bread so I can make sandwiches with the one tomato we have left, and some moldy Netherlandian cheese. Leave early for class, waste time trying to find Vodafone store. Find it, decide the line is too long, go to class. Get out of class, go back, get a number and stand in line for a while, get phone recharged, call my pareja linguística, and tell her I feel like meeting for churros and chocolate today (cold weather). She suggests a famous churrería in the center, but I have to be around the residence to get ready for a movie later on, so we wind up going to a snack bar and to drink chocolate and eat pastries. I mainly just wanted the hot chocolate. Walk her to the train station by 8:45, go home, attempt to eat salad, but am too nervous. Get ready, attempt to make crazy, wild spirit hair, kind of fail at goal but like end result. Leave a bit too late as was chatting a bit too much with the vasca friend. Get on metro, transfer, walk to movie theater, meet friends, watch movie, walk friend home, miss a perfect opportunity, and walk home past the Sagrada Familia listening to semi-sad music and feeling emotional. Resolve to do better, get home at 1ish and go straight to bed.

Obviously, the main problem is that I have been going to bed at around 3 am, and waking up at around 11:30. Oof. Don't worry-this will change soon. [And, with an early rise sunday for hiking, and monday for an academic interview, it has. Uh, except the rise at 11 today..]

Tough Decisions

noreply@blogger.com (Ksenia) — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 14:06:00 +0000

It is 15:10. I have just finished eating a bowl of brown rice + green lentils (w/ fresh tomatoes + cucumbers mixed in). I could take a book down to the beach, and find that magical place w/ cement reclining chairs. I could actually try to do something about the mess that is our room/to-do list. I could start doing some work for classes (I do actually have some). I could go down to the market to buy some fruit. I could go up to the pool and do my hour of the yoga for the day. I could decide on which movie I'd like to go see this weekend. I could seriously consider my email inbox....

Or, I could just take my siesta. Indeed, this is what I often do when I have too many potentials, and nothing me apetece.

La cara compañera

noreply@blogger.com (Ksenia) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 14:50:00 +0000

My roommate and I have started blaming the Barcelona climate for spoiling all of our food. Really, we don't buy that much, and we eat it in a rationally regular fashion, but we have thrown out way too many things. It's a good thing that we don't have a bigger fridge.

*You know it's a dire situation when you'd rather throw away the tupperware than only what's inside of it.

But really, my roommate (Ana is her name) has saved me, and my relationship to Barcelona. We don't really talk about our feelings so much, (I don't think, surprisingly, that the Spanish do..) but just having her there makes all the difference.

*After-post addition: the healthiest thing about having a roommate like her is that we have these moments of disasterhood, and if we were alone, I think we would dwell on it and it would spoil our mood. Instead, we laugh about it, and the potentially bad feelings dissolve. For example, today, Ana took out a tupperware of potatoes/beans that her mom prepared for her, tasted it, and realized it was pasado. Then she got out another tupperware, of the same thing, but one that she made, and poured some oil into it...But it turned out that she accidently literally poured in about a cup of evoo. Then she had to siphon it out with a spoon. And then, she picked it up, put it down, and some liquid (with the oil) splashed onto her shirt. I am sure that if this sequence of events happened to either of us, and we were alone, we would have cursed everything to low hell, and been very disgruntled. But together, we laughed, and these little things that could have ruined a day, only added to our amusement.

Good Barcelona Day

noreply@blogger.com (Ksenia) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 17:11:00 +0000

I had class here, la Casa Convalescència:

This humble casa is part of the Hospital de la Santa Creu i Sant Pau complex, where I later wandered around, and which looks like this.

Images are borrowed because who knew that one has to carry her camera to class? Only in Barcelona...

And then I walked right to the Sagrada Familia on my way home, because, uh, around these parts it's pretty normal to walk by modernista masterpieces on the way home?

And then, (!) I came home and was going to put on music and clean up. But---there was music playing outside for an independista/Catalan culture gathering. I went down with a cup of ice-cream, and found the weirdest revolutionary-type event ever:

This is how the Catalans like their independence demonstrations: talk of socialism, calls for independence, pledges to combat sexism, "capitalism is the crisis!"- all with a side of traditional folk dance.

Now that's a cause I can get down with.

noreply@blogger.com (Ksenia) — Sat, 31 Oct 2009 13:40:00 +0000

Forget going out to participate in independista marches and celebrations. It's right outside my window. Literally, right outside the window. (Window faces out into a conjunction of a supermarket, real market, library, old people residence, and small plaza. So they're in the plaza.) I would take a picture, but the old people residence terrace blocks my view, but I sure can hear all their calls for freedom, and modern/traditional Catalan music (sometimes mixed together in one song).

I came home at 7:05 this morning. Even for a Spaniard, that's pretty late. This morning, (uh, later this morning) my roommate said, "Ah, yes, you now live in Barcelona."

noreply@blogger.com (Ksenia) — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 16:40:00 +0000

It should come as no surprise that the more my clothes smell like a bar, the happier I am in Barcelona.

Really though, I have been far too busy and social to be lonely and miserable, which is very healthy and good. But knowing how doleful I like to be, I am missing sulking alone with ice-cream and Grey's Anatomy. Pretty sick, but oh so satisfying...

Be jealous.

noreply@blogger.com (Ksenia) — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 23:13:00 +0000

Tonight, our argentino neighbor came over with his guitar and his accent. My vasca friend and I were checking out some modern vasco groups, and the songs they sing...in euskera! We had to stop as the argentino started playing to an audience of me, the vasca, my roommate, and her two friends, one from Aragón, and one from Navarra. He was playing some classic Spanish guitar music, and yes, being the good españolas they are, started dancing along. And I mean, some seriously beautiful, this-runs-in-your-blood/how-do-you-move-like-that hip movements and dance steps. To them, it was natural, simple, childish. Later, the girl from Navarra, and the argentino and I bonded over our love for Paco de Lucía and were absolutely shocked that the two girls from Aragón did not know who he was.

To sum up, argentinian accent + real live Spanish guitar + some good old vasco blood (some bruta, some not) = my new Spanish family.

All I can say is, "thank you. Thank you very much for providing the humyn connection that I have found here with only one other persyn.

Que viva la noche, la música, los amigos, y el amor. And something I've been waiting a very long time to say authentically, que viva España.

Italian Godchild

noreply@blogger.com (Ksenia) — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 21:45:00 +0000

Adrienne asks, "what exactly is an Italiano godchild?"

Behold:

Yes, his name: Domiciano. The name of a cruel Roman emperor, but this boy is anything but. Or is he?

Domi, our ferocious little bambino italiano, loves, loves, love the cats. And riding on tractors. And helping out on the farm. And setting the table. That is definitely his thing.

He doesn't like most music that was played, and made funny faces at it, and if I may wax a bit poetical here, during those times, we said nothing to each other, but communicated everything that ever was and will be in this starry world.

I don't really know what else to say. Except that he's perfect. And that I was gushing like a teenage-girl-meeting-her-favorite-rock-star when I finally got the courage to ask dear Domi for this foto.

I seriously cannot wait to see how this kid grows up. I really hope he never stops playing with the cats. And keeps studying el castellano.

Piemonte

noreply@blogger.com (Ksenia) — Sat, 03 Oct 2009 18:28:00 +0000

Ah, Italy: yellow houses, green trees, and bikes!

Although my camera did stop functioning the second day of my trip, I was able to snap about five pictures. I was unfortunately, however, unable to capture the castle behind the vineyard, and the other castle to the left of the nocciola (hazelnut) plantation. What, don't you have at least two castles in your daily sight? How very non-Italian of you!

Capturing this picture made the lack of other ones bearable. Yes, those are hanging pumpkins. And yes, you will never appreciate the weight of a heavy pumpkin if you just buy them at the market and take them home with you. One must fit them up with string, properly shlep them around from place to place, and then hoist them up to the banister to be hanged.

Apparently, hanging pumpkins allows them to avoid contact with any other surface, thereby permitting them to avoid humidity and you know, rot! This is a fancy Brasilian trick. Thank you Wanessa!

Piemonte is a breathtaking region. Lush, rolling green hills, with a very fine mist settling in the morning and afternoon. This lights up the valley and gives everything a diaphanous glow. It is magic, and you should probably visit soon.

No limpiamos si no ganamos!

noreply@blogger.com (Ksenia) — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 16:32:00 +0000

Walking back from class today, I stumbled head-on into a march/demonstration of people in the janitorial industry demanding higher wages. I couldn't take a picture because my hand was occupied by a papaya gelato cone. And that really says everything about privilege one ever needs to know.

Ostia

noreply@blogger.com (Ksenia) — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 11:09:00 +0000

Apparently the Parcs i Jardins division decided today that they should trim what few trees there are around here. Being a rational, reasonable person such as myself, I understand that you may want to cut away some twigs here and there, you know, the ones that poke people in the eye when they step out on their balcony. But as evidenced by the picture, nearly half of the top of the tree has been cut down. Fantastic! Very well! Let's just decrease the amount of shade and oxygen producing plants we have even further! (And of course, release some more carbon dioxide back into the atmosphere.)

Thanks Barcelona, thanks. I love you too.

Seriously, why did no one ever suggest that maybe I would like to visit this place before committing to staying here for an entire year?

Ni Francia, ni Espanya, Paises Catalans!

noreply@blogger.com (Ksenia) — Mon, 14 Sep 2009 18:54:00 +0000

Title translated, "Not France, not Spain, Catalan countries!" (Sorry if that was painfully obvious already). September 11th is the National Catalan day, really a day of memory (and mourning?) of the day that Catalunya was conquered by Madrid, and officially became part of España. I went to the festival held in the Arc de Triomf promenade. Unfortunately, my camera ran out of battery so I couldn't take any pictures of the Catalan pride and little kids running around with independence flags on their backs.

I heard not a word of Castillian that day. If you needed to speak with someone, and had no knowledge of Catalan, you were better off doing it in English. The official Catalan independista movement does not believe in the use of violence, but you may be severely reprimanded and made to feel very unwelcome, and you know, like a dominating, conquering, imperialist bastard.

Every other person was dressed in some type of independista garb. My favorite? A shirt that reads, "I am Catalan, and that means I am NOT Spanish." This was written in English.

The march that I was lucky enough to witness was very moving. I was surprised by the fact that many older people, couples, and families participated, instead of the usual screw-authority kind of crowd.

One of my fantasy to-do's while in Catalunya was to take part in just such a parade/demonstration. While I would feel silly (not to mention like a downright fraud) joining in without the ability to speak the language, I think my presence there validates a check-off.

*Elaboration about the title/chant: Catalan country includes the Catalunya in Spain, the Balearic islands, the small Catalan community on the Italian island of Sardenya, and the Catalan-speaking parts of southern France.

¡Feliz Cumpleaños a Mí!

noreply@blogger.com (Ksenia) — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 21:44:00 +0000

I bought myself a cake. Raspberry mouse. It was delicious. I'm saving a piece for my Spanish roommate, you know, to thank her for being española.

First birthday without family or friends. A bit sad, yes, but it's a grand thing that I very much enjoy being by myself, and oftentimes prefer it to being with others. (I supremely enjoy good, interesting company, but I rarely want to be with people just for the sake of being surrounded by other humyn beings.)

¡Bienvenidos a Barcelona!

noreply@blogger.com (Ksenia) — Mon, 07 Sep 2009 20:05:00 +0000

Things I like about Barcelona (in no particular order):

1. Cheap Produce. Produce in the EU is much cheaper than in the US. This is, of course, because they heavily subsidize it, but I would rather have subsidized produce than subsidized corn, dairy, and flesh products (as it is in the US).

Today, for instance, I bought 2.03 kg of peaches for 1.52 E total. This is almost 4.5 pounds for $2.2! They also have a bargain space for slightly damaged produce. .59 E/kilo. I picked up 2 small eggplants and 3 apples for... 90 dollar cents! (Everything you see above I bought for $5.45.)

2. Walking by the Arc de Triomf everyday. I can also see it out of my window. And this one is much, much better than the one in Paris.

3. Barcelona is a truly multicultural and diverse city. People don't even turn their heads, no matter what language you're speaking. Of course there are large immigrant groups, (Morroco, South America, Pakistan, China) but you really can find a bit of everything.

4. Just as there are many different ethnicities, there are also many different neighbourhoods and parts of BCN. There's the Barri Gotic, the oldest part of town, and one of the best preserved Middle Ages neighborhoods in the world. There you are likely to stumble on some Roman ruins as you walk to the sports goods store. There is the beach front, with its shiny buildings, chic restaurants and clubs, construction, and large promenade. There is Barceloneta, the gentrifying fisherman's quarter which reminds me very much of cara Italia. There is El Raval, the slightly dodgy, slightly hippy and very cool Pakistan/Morroco district. Tourists are now settling there however, and they are kicking people out of their homes to build hotels. There is the very large, sprawling L'Eixample, with its modernist gems, wide lanes, (full of cars and noise) and stupid, rounded corners, which make you walk half a block before you can cross the street. And there is Gracia (just discovered today). It's like the Barri Gotic in that it's largely pedestrian, but without all the tourists. There you find all sorts of progressive, new agey, community oriented things. Everything from yoga studios to independista community centers, to...Centers for the Parents of Adopted Chinese kids?

I really enjoy the ability to pick and choose neighborhoods, even though they hardly form a cohesive atmosphere or spirit to the city.

5. Walking through some part of the Barri Gotic everyday, and by countless fruit stands, bakeries, and natural products stores. (I will elaborate later on how the grocery system varies from the one in the US).

Things I don't like:

1. Concrete.

2. Cars.

3. Lack of grass/flowers/trees/green things in general.

This city is an absolute disaster when it comes to being literally green. Everything is grey. Everything is paved. There are very few parks, and none of the sidewalks have grass or any other type of greenery lining them. You know what this means? Dogs pee/do other things on the pavement.

Probably the majority of streets do have trees lining them. But as you see here, the poor things are encased in concrete. Although I am learning to plan my routes to avoid the big streets, my pulmonary and nervous system is frazzled by the end of the day. Too much car noise, too much car exhaust.

4. Having to constantly be careful to not step in dog droppings. See above.

Those are actually my biggest complaints about the city, but in my book, they are very serious. Apart from the environmental implications of creating a baking urban heat island, it's just not very pleasant to be out and about, no matter your politics.

No Spain, no Gain

noreply@blogger.com (Ksenia) — Wed, 02 Sep 2009 18:04:00 +0000

Yes, it really does look like this.

This title seems more appropriate now than ever before. Let's be honest, Italy spoiled me. The language, the food, the people, and the scenery. Oh, the scenery! Citrus-colored houses amidst a backdrop of lush, dark cypress trees, craggy mountains, and a brilliantly blue sky. Apparently paradise does exist on earth. To go even further, there were several points during the summer where I genuinely thought that if I were to die right now, I would be deliciously fulfilled and content.

One of the consequences of my new found love is that of course, I am not as happy with Spain as I could be. And if I do compare every other place to Italia, maybe that just simply says that I should be there, not wherever I am.

There was only one time (that I can remember; still, a maximum of two times) that we said, "Wow, this could be anywhere in the world right now." The spirit of Italia is inescapable. It is everywhere...train stations, roadside cafes, and street art. It's probably the water, because I swear it will infect you too.

In Spain, on the other hand, I have that feeling regularly. It is easy to blame that on the cosmopolitan, truly diverse and multicultural city that Barcelona is. You could be anywhere in the world, because all of the forces in the world have acted upon this place.

I have, however, already been lucky enough to see other parts of Spain. (Tarragona, Valencia, Costa Brava, Madrid, Toledo, Cuenca, Zaragoza). I haven't found the contagious spirit yet, or the passion that seeps through your pores and saturates the ground. I guess there's just too much concrete.

For now, mia cara Italia, I leave you. But I will be back soon. And in the meantime, I will write blog posts about my summer! (I know you've been waiting. But it will be worth it.)

(Yes, that's right, it is a train station!)

Italia Update

noreply@blogger.com (Ksenia) — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 08:30:00 +0000

Hi everyone! Yes, yes, we are indeed en Italia and having the time of our lives! This is going to be a really quick and short blog post; just a breezy update in the train station. I promise I will post further explanation of all of our adventures (and their accompanying pictures) later. Sorry for punctuation/spelling mistakes ahead of time.

Our host in Milano lives in a loft in the renovated porcelain factory! Navigating from the airport to his place, with our packs, and especially after I threw up on the plane was a challenge. I was close to passing out at the end, but have no fear, we have gelato! We took a day to see the sights in Milano (not too many, really). Here is Juliana being very happy outside Castello Sforzesco. Yeah, we did eat gelato on castle grounds! Here's a picture of me in front of the Duomo. Yes, it is love love lovely. And I got to help some Russian tourists find it later on!

Next stop, the fabulous Verona! With our fabulous couchsurfing host, Andrea. He cooked us spaghetti al pesto the first night, and the second, we went to the opera (Turandot) in the Arena pictured above. That was definitely one of the best experiences of my life. Breathtakingly beautiful, and seeing opera in the outdoors, (with birds flying in and out!) in a Roman colloseum was.... wow wow wow!

And no, we didn't forget about wwoofing. We stayed in a wonderful small farm in the hills! And everyday we woke up to this:

And we lived with what seemed like a professional chef. Fed extremely well. Look at Bruni (the dog)!

Our adventures have included, thus far:

-cleaning saffron bulbs

-marvelling at a 12 year old Italian god child

-travelling in the car with a goat

-touching Juliet's breast (of Romeo and Juliet. It's Verona after all)

-ate homemade pizza from a 17th century oven

-sitting in a cloud

-picking cherries and figs, and eating them straight from the tree

Stay tuned for stories about the Irish in Italia, and how we successfully escaped from our second farm! (Not to worry. One of the best, and most adventurous decisions we have both made). Currently en route to another farm, which sounds like a great fit for us!

in less than 4 hours...

noreply@blogger.com (Ksenia) — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 08:22:00 +0000

I will have begun my journey to Milano, Italy.

A brief summary/timeline of my plans:

Spend two days, one night in Milano.

Spend 2-3 days, two nights in Verona.

July 4th- make our way to farm #1 in Piacenza.

July 11th transfer to farm #2, also in Piacenza

July 24th-25th- take train from Milano to Paris

July 25th-31st- time in Paris with Juliana and her friend Becky

July 30th or 31st- make my way to farm #3, in Diano Marina, an olive farm 300 meters from the coast!

August 17th- take ferry from Italian coast to Barcelona. seems to be the cheapest option, although I may get a wee bit sick!

Juliana, a dear friend from the University of Chicago, will be accompanying me on 2/3 of this migrant farm working trip. [She flies out of Paris at the end of our time there.]

Right, so, I'm way too tired to write anything witty or more interesting. Watch for updates!

To Eurail, or not to Eurail

noreply@blogger.com (Ksenia) — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 22:00:00 +0000

There exists a set of train passes meant to make life (transport) easier for non-Euro citizens. There are various types, from regional, one-country passes, or a select pass where you select 3-5 bordering countries, and in 2 months can travel 5-10 days. (price varies for number of days).

I was considering getting the Eurail Select Pass for Italy, Spain, and France, for 5 days of travel. ($299). After much research and reflection, I chose not to get it.

Here's why:

1. Time and time again, I have read and heard from other travelers to not buy any tickets, travel deals, tourist packages, etc, outside of the country where you are going to be traveling. The mark-up levied by travel agencies, websites customized for the American traveler, etc, is horrendous, usually spanning 1/3-3/4 of the price you would get on the ground. I saw this in action repeatedly in Ecuador, where people would arrive with 7-day excursions to the Galapagos, which they paid almost $3000 for. If they were to buy them in Ecuador, they would pay about$1,500-$2,000 for the same accomodations. It's easier to already have tickets when you arrive, but that security and comfort comes at a price.

1.a. Eurocheapo.com did their own investigation, testing out prices for train travel based in Germany with the Deutsche Bahn (local train company), and with a leading North American/British agent.

Let's have a look at what they found:

Berlin to London (2nd class) DB: €49 / Agent Fare: €209
Amsterdam to Salzburg (1st class) DB: €79 / Agent Fare: €255
London to Cologne (2nd class) DB: €49 / Agent Fare: €106
Berlin to Zagreb with stops in Hamburg and Munich (2nd class) DB: €29 / Agent Fare: €322
Nuremberg to Dresden day return for family of 5 (2nd class) DB: €37 / Agent Fare: €705

Their explanation? "In most of Europe, rail operators have a whole raft of special promotional fares that massively undercut the regular tariffs (often with discount of more than 80% on the standard fare)" (http://www.eurocheapo.com/blog/european-rail-tickets-deutsche-bahn-fares-better-than-rail-agents.html).

1.b. I didn't test out all of my trips, because in my case, I was deciding between Eurail and on the ground buying, never even considering buying through an agent. Just for fun though, I did run the trip of Milan - Piacenza [half an hour train ride] through both TrenItalia, and RailEurope. TrenItalia- 7 euros. RailEurope- 15 euros.

2. I did however run my planned trips through RailEurope, to see the highest possible total cost, and to then compare it with the total price of the Eurail pass.

These are the 5 major train rides I'm planning on taking:

Milan-Paris (two-way)

Milan- Diano Marina

Nice-Barcelona

Milan-Piacenza

The (highly inflated) total comes to $340.

Remember, my Eurail pass was only $299. Why didn't I just bite the bullet and get one? $41 cheaper!

3. Eurail pass is generally considered not worth it in countries like Spain and Italy where buses or the regional trains are extremely cheap.

4. Train travel with the Eurail pass is not as easy as they'd like to make you think. Here are the catches, and the hidden costs:

a. Say I'm going from Milan- Paris. Italy and France are both covered by my pass. The train, however, goes through Italy, Switzerland, and France. Switzerland is not covered by my pass. Here I have two options: 1. Zig-zag around Switzerland, (not too hard, but wastes one or two of my 5 allowed trips) and 2. Go through Switzerland and pay extra. Probably around 20-50 E.

b. The Eurail pass does not include additional costs of seat reservations, overnight travel, and high-speed trains.

Why does one need seat reservations? A seat reservation guarantees you won't be bothered by people coming up and demanding that you get out of their seat. This becomes a problem when new people come on at every station. Seat reservations are usually under 5E though, so no big deal.

For overnight travel and high-speed trains, I have read stories of people having to pay anywhere from 20 E - full ticket price extra.

c. Full ticket price, you say? That will really cut into your budget! In fact, it seems like some rail operators consider the Eurail pass to be a discount card, not as a free-ticket granting masterpiece.

For me, my own research on the train from Italy to Spain really put the nail in the Eurail pass coffin.

Price from Bermacchio (I don't think that's exactly it, but it's some coastal Italian town close to where I'll be) to Barcelona for a youth: 88 E.

Price for a Eurail holder? 71 E.

5. For one of my pricey journeys, (Italy to Barcelona) I have the option of going by ferry, which is about 41 E. Can't say I won't get seasick, but the savings and experience may be worth it.

6. Last but not least, I wanted to order it too late. [i.e. would get to Salt Lake on July 1st. I leave June 30th]

Conclusion: I'm going to go with my intuition and not purchase a Eurail pass. It would be an optimal choice if there were no hidden costs, or if the pass itself was much cheaper, to make the discounts offered worth it.

Like in so many cases, great idea, bad implementation.

But as always, only time will tell. I will be keeping careful track of exactly how much money I spend on the rail tickets, (and in general, of course) and will let you know if my hunch was right.

Cherry Season

noreply@blogger.com (Ksenia) — Wed, 24 Jun 2009 23:10:00 +0000

With the first days of summer comes the first days of cherry season. For a while now, we have been going about an hour north of Salt Lake to pick our own cherries.

A rational person would have settled with this.

I assure you, however, that I am not one of those. So I filled this one up too.

74 pounds of cherries, folks! I've always been confident in my ability to eat mass quantities of food, but I'm getting a little overwhelmed here. Cherry smoothies, cherry salads, cherries for breakfast, dinner, and desert. Oy!