1) In honor of Columbus Day, we christened each of our flights the Niña, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria. This is the Niña.
2) The Pinta. Landon and Brenna came along for this flight. No photographs were taken on the Santa Maria flight because we were passed out for the whole thing.
3) At the Hostel from Hell, Astin lounges in the ancient, yet tacky living room.
4) Using the flusher and the community bathroom mop.
5) Relaxing in our tiny bathtub/washbasin.
6) Astin fixing the tub plug in our apartment.
7) Our first meal…canned ravioli which we decided to adult-ify by adding a tomato and some garlic.
8) Figuring out how to organize the dining room was a dilemma.
9) We rode the bullet train to a nearby town called Toledo. Graham (his real name, coincidentally) and Kastin (our team name) had a show-down between the two types of cookies we bought. We called this the Cookie Off.
10) Part of the landscape visible from one of the look-out points.
11) More panoramic view…you can see bridges and castles and whatnot in the distance.
12) Streets of Toledo.
13) Illegal picture taken in the Monasterio de San Juan de las Reyes (Monastery of St. John of the Kings). Tope was outside waiting, so she’s not in the picture.
14) Cathedral.
Well, much has happened since I last blogged, most of it positive. The most exciting thing was that Astin and I found an apartment we like and we talked the owner down 100 euros in the price. He’s a super nice guy who helped us with all of our luggage, cracks jokes, and we’ll probably grab something to eat together sometime. Just a good guy. It’s fairly furnished, like beds and tables and chairs and a few glasses and plates. I definitely think longingly to my kitchen in the states and replay fond memories of time spent with my spice rack, cheese grater, or measuring cups.
I also started classes. It takes about a month to take all the classes and start on practice teaching and lesson plans and whatnot. I can’t get certified until I finish enough hours of guided teaching and I hear that can take a while. This basically means that I’m without an income for November and probably part of December. I believe that is what optimists call “an adventure.” I’m not too stressed about all this, though. Teaching has never been listed in the Lucrative Professions Category in my mind.
Other positive things? Understanding the Metro system, learning how to get around Spain’s complicated streets…at least to the areas I’ve needed so far (think Portland on steroids and crack. At the same time.), cooking, enjoying classes, learning what a phrasal verb is, going to Toledo, recovering from a bad cold that caused me to accidentally sneeze on a wall at Starbucks (that was horrifying).
Well, that’s my blog for now. I’m trying to keep it a little interesting, informative enough, and a bit humorous. Feel free to leave feedback. I know I didn’t go into much detail, but let’s face it, the best way to wonder if watching the grass grow is interesting is to read someone’s blog about travel. Most of them go like this, “Hey everyone! Here is a boring list of all these awesome places I’ve been that will be of no interest to you and you might not ever go there, anyway. Haha! I love you soooooo much.”
Rest assured, I am safe, in relative good health, I am learning about all those parts of grammar that make most people vomit (predicate nominatives, anyone?), and having a pretty good time. If you aren’t on the e-mail list and would like to be, shoot me an e-mail or facebook message with your e-mail address. I will be sending out an e-mail that has my postal address. Take note, those who wish to receive higher percentages of my estate should send me lots of mail. Otherwise, I will instruct my lawyer to take you out of my will.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Friday, October 24, 2008
Living in Style
Astin and I found a two-bedroom apartment. We live in it now. Onto ruling the world.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Monday, October 20, 2008
Surgeon General's Warning: The following post may or may not contain mild whining. Whining is considered annoying to the health.
Well. Here we are back at MAD hostel after a weekend stay at what Astin and I now refer to as "The Hostel from Hell." Really, the hostel itself wasn't awful, aside from running out of toilet paper. When we arrived at 11 or 12, there was no sign of a desk or any way of getting beyond the locked doors on the 7th floor of the building we were in. Apparently, guests are supposed to miraculously divine that the desk is located at least a block away where an elderly and grumpy old man was attending to several outraged clients. (Apparently there were several problems with the hostel.) In short, it took the goodwill (and different levels of broken Spanish) of several amazingly kind individuals to get us situated. For example, Sabine and Filipe from France let three different groups store luggage in their room since we couldn't check in till 2. Or the Spanish couple that wouldn't leave the office until Astin had her room keys, even though they had theirs. They also gave her their cell number in case we ran into anymore problems. There was also the taxi driver that we miscommunicated with when we gave directions. He pulled over, shut off the meter, and helped us find exactly where to go. So many suprising acts of kindness kept us safe and relatively happy.
I now have another suggestion for future travelers. You should get sick while you're living in a hostel. In fact, you should convert your old nose to a new-and-improved faucet. You should also accidentally keep half your fake hostel up at night when you can't sleep. This will make you feel like a great person.
Final news...no apartment. We may be relatively close on one. We're crossing our fingers. Tomorrow begins the test to see if I am fit to teach grammar. I am pretty nervous. Most of what I know and what I write is gut feeling. I'm not sure I will be able to explain how or why things work. But I guess I'll find out tomorrow!
Well. Here we are back at MAD hostel after a weekend stay at what Astin and I now refer to as "The Hostel from Hell." Really, the hostel itself wasn't awful, aside from running out of toilet paper. When we arrived at 11 or 12, there was no sign of a desk or any way of getting beyond the locked doors on the 7th floor of the building we were in. Apparently, guests are supposed to miraculously divine that the desk is located at least a block away where an elderly and grumpy old man was attending to several outraged clients. (Apparently there were several problems with the hostel.) In short, it took the goodwill (and different levels of broken Spanish) of several amazingly kind individuals to get us situated. For example, Sabine and Filipe from France let three different groups store luggage in their room since we couldn't check in till 2. Or the Spanish couple that wouldn't leave the office until Astin had her room keys, even though they had theirs. They also gave her their cell number in case we ran into anymore problems. There was also the taxi driver that we miscommunicated with when we gave directions. He pulled over, shut off the meter, and helped us find exactly where to go. So many suprising acts of kindness kept us safe and relatively happy.
I now have another suggestion for future travelers. You should get sick while you're living in a hostel. In fact, you should convert your old nose to a new-and-improved faucet. You should also accidentally keep half your fake hostel up at night when you can't sleep. This will make you feel like a great person.
Final news...no apartment. We may be relatively close on one. We're crossing our fingers. Tomorrow begins the test to see if I am fit to teach grammar. I am pretty nervous. Most of what I know and what I write is gut feeling. I'm not sure I will be able to explain how or why things work. But I guess I'll find out tomorrow!
Friday, October 17, 2008
How to have an exciting day
I know you are all relishing my access to free internet use and the fact that I have free time. Apparently that will soon change and Astin and I will begin studying for our first exam which is on Tuesday. I push aside my nervousness for that. In the meantime, I can post wild blogs, knowing that basically the whole world is hanging on my every word. (Sarcasm.) The following is an instruction manual for one or more people, follow closely.
How to Have an Exciting Day
1) Set your alarm for 8, plan to leave at 9. Wake up at 9, realizing uneasily that it's never been light at 8 on the other mornings.
2) Get ready in mere minutes, shoving a croissant in your face as you hustle across town. One of you should also stick approximately half of the glazed side to the front of your jacket. This is really attractive.
3) This is already pretty exciting, so it's okay if you only walk past your street for a couple blocks and then find it on the map.
4) Go to orientation, eat an awesome free breakfast, and then have the guide from the school help you buy a cell phone. This should be done through the Movistar company because your life is already so exciting...you should basically be considered a movie star anyway.
5) Limp back to your hostel wondering why that one bone in your foot hurts so much. Then rapidly forget about the bone and everything except for the fact that the door to your room is wide open and so are your empty storage lockers. One of you should exclaim in words you wouldn't share with your mother and sprint downstairs to frantically quiz the receptionist.
6) For beginners, this level of excitement will suffice. Thus, you can just find that your luggage, iPod, computer, etc. are safely stowed behind the desk. They only took it out since you'll have to move to a different room for a night and they need the one you were in.
7) Plan to spend the rest of the day looking for apartments, crossing your fingers, knowing that if you don't find one, you'll spend the next week bouncing between the three hostels you booked last night.
The End.
How to Have an Exciting Day
1) Set your alarm for 8, plan to leave at 9. Wake up at 9, realizing uneasily that it's never been light at 8 on the other mornings.
2) Get ready in mere minutes, shoving a croissant in your face as you hustle across town. One of you should also stick approximately half of the glazed side to the front of your jacket. This is really attractive.
3) This is already pretty exciting, so it's okay if you only walk past your street for a couple blocks and then find it on the map.
4) Go to orientation, eat an awesome free breakfast, and then have the guide from the school help you buy a cell phone. This should be done through the Movistar company because your life is already so exciting...you should basically be considered a movie star anyway.
5) Limp back to your hostel wondering why that one bone in your foot hurts so much. Then rapidly forget about the bone and everything except for the fact that the door to your room is wide open and so are your empty storage lockers. One of you should exclaim in words you wouldn't share with your mother and sprint downstairs to frantically quiz the receptionist.
6) For beginners, this level of excitement will suffice. Thus, you can just find that your luggage, iPod, computer, etc. are safely stowed behind the desk. They only took it out since you'll have to move to a different room for a night and they need the one you were in.
7) Plan to spend the rest of the day looking for apartments, crossing your fingers, knowing that if you don't find one, you'll spend the next week bouncing between the three hostels you booked last night.
The End.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Learn it as you go
I have recently learned the following important life lessons. I may provide illustrations as needed.
1- Moving to another city and expecting to find an apartment in 4 days is unrealistic. This may cause mild anxiety and discouragement.
2- One of the best ways to get to know a city is to spend each day walking several thousand miles through different zones, arguing with your party about which street you should turn right on.
3- When you go to view an apartment, remember which street it´s on. That way if you know there´s no way on earth you´re living in that sketchy place, you´ll know to turn down offers in the same neighborhood. (When we asked the realtor about the neighborhood, she said there were a lot of young people and families. She didn´t focus on what substances we suspected those young people were on.)
4- Appreciate the little things. Like the kind old guy who helps you figure out that the 5 digit number in the address you´re looking for is a zip code, not a house number. Be really glad about this when you´re on house number 42. Appreciate the random lady at the hostel who gives you a free back massage and tells you you´ll have plenty of homework in your program and that she hopes you like grammar.
5- Get off the public computer just because you´re too lazy to go upstairs and get your laptop.
1- Moving to another city and expecting to find an apartment in 4 days is unrealistic. This may cause mild anxiety and discouragement.
2- One of the best ways to get to know a city is to spend each day walking several thousand miles through different zones, arguing with your party about which street you should turn right on.
3- When you go to view an apartment, remember which street it´s on. That way if you know there´s no way on earth you´re living in that sketchy place, you´ll know to turn down offers in the same neighborhood. (When we asked the realtor about the neighborhood, she said there were a lot of young people and families. She didn´t focus on what substances we suspected those young people were on.)
4- Appreciate the little things. Like the kind old guy who helps you figure out that the 5 digit number in the address you´re looking for is a zip code, not a house number. Be really glad about this when you´re on house number 42. Appreciate the random lady at the hostel who gives you a free back massage and tells you you´ll have plenty of homework in your program and that she hopes you like grammar.
5- Get off the public computer just because you´re too lazy to go upstairs and get your laptop.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Mrs. Meow Mix Goes to Madrid
Greetings from the Mad Hostel. I am not making this name up. Luckily, the hostel is a pretty nice one, and it didn't even cost E90 like other ones close by. Here's a synopsis of the trip prior to this moment:
* 6:59 am, departed from Boise (Niña flight; it's Columbus Day) without any tears. The night before, however, was a different story. Let's just say I likened my mom to the priest in Les Miserables in the scene with Jean Valjean and the candlesticks while the tears rolled.
* The Pinta (we roughly translate this to mean "The Looker.") Eventually landed in Chicago where we waited for about 6 or so hours (with a lot of delays) and then took our 8 hour cross-Atlantic flight. We attempted to sleep but mosty watched a lot of movies. Oh, the cause of the delay? Direct quote, "Reason for delay - aircraft delayed." Spare no detail, United, spare no detail.
*The delays led to us missing our connection in Frankfurt. That's okay, though, because I count sprinting through an international airport with your luggage and laptop flapping madly around you like the moons of Jupiter as an experience each person should have before death.
*The Santa Maria. I don't remember much of the last flight because Astin and I were pretty much passed out for all of it. I thought she was talking to me at one point from under her hood. She didn't respond to me until I referred to her as the Talking Head. Then she answered and we felt that might be humorous to the people around us.
*Roughly 9,000 pounds of luggage later in Madrid, we found a taxi driver who felt that he was up to the challenge of cramming all our stuff in his trunk. Bravery comes in many forms. And then we arrived at the hostel. For those of you who gave birth to me, you may be interested to learn that this hostel seems very safe and we're impressed.
Other than that, we've just been wandering around, wondering how our money disappears so fast, and trying to figure out how to get places. Currently it seems, how shall I put this, ridiculously complicated. We did find the Canterbury offices, though, and I think we'll figure it out. It seems doable.
I'm doing okay. Two things will make me feel a lot better. 1) When we find an apartment. 2) When I figure out what the heck I'm doing in Spain trying to teach English. Other than that, we laugh a lot, mostly at ourselves, our lack of hearing, and the stairs we climb. And now I'm going to bed.
* 6:59 am, departed from Boise (Niña flight; it's Columbus Day) without any tears. The night before, however, was a different story. Let's just say I likened my mom to the priest in Les Miserables in the scene with Jean Valjean and the candlesticks while the tears rolled.
* The Pinta (we roughly translate this to mean "The Looker.") Eventually landed in Chicago where we waited for about 6 or so hours (with a lot of delays) and then took our 8 hour cross-Atlantic flight. We attempted to sleep but mosty watched a lot of movies. Oh, the cause of the delay? Direct quote, "Reason for delay - aircraft delayed." Spare no detail, United, spare no detail.
*The delays led to us missing our connection in Frankfurt. That's okay, though, because I count sprinting through an international airport with your luggage and laptop flapping madly around you like the moons of Jupiter as an experience each person should have before death.
*The Santa Maria. I don't remember much of the last flight because Astin and I were pretty much passed out for all of it. I thought she was talking to me at one point from under her hood. She didn't respond to me until I referred to her as the Talking Head. Then she answered and we felt that might be humorous to the people around us.
*Roughly 9,000 pounds of luggage later in Madrid, we found a taxi driver who felt that he was up to the challenge of cramming all our stuff in his trunk. Bravery comes in many forms. And then we arrived at the hostel. For those of you who gave birth to me, you may be interested to learn that this hostel seems very safe and we're impressed.
Other than that, we've just been wandering around, wondering how our money disappears so fast, and trying to figure out how to get places. Currently it seems, how shall I put this, ridiculously complicated. We did find the Canterbury offices, though, and I think we'll figure it out. It seems doable.
I'm doing okay. Two things will make me feel a lot better. 1) When we find an apartment. 2) When I figure out what the heck I'm doing in Spain trying to teach English. Other than that, we laugh a lot, mostly at ourselves, our lack of hearing, and the stairs we climb. And now I'm going to bed.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
New law. You can't leave.
In case you weren't aware, I love to make people laugh. And I love laughing together. I do not subscribe to that philosophy that says that jokes are funnier (more funny? yeah, I'll be teaching English.) when you don't laugh at your own. Heck, I often laugh at my own jokes more than the people around me. Syd and I occasionally do this thing where one of us is rocking in silent laughter with tears rolling, unable to breathe while the entire room gapes with no clue what is happening.
Ironically, in the past few days, even with the tension of packing and leaving people I am crazy about, I have laughed more than I have in a long time. I think it helps ease the transition. Like when the twins tell me about their plans to chain me to their house or that a new law has mandated that I will never leave. Those things are funny even as the lump in my throat gets bigger when I scoop them up for a last hug.
Or when my mom tells me how she punched her college boyfriend. That's really funny even when I realize that an ocean will squeak its way in between us soon.
Ironically, in the past few days, even with the tension of packing and leaving people I am crazy about, I have laughed more than I have in a long time. I think it helps ease the transition. Like when the twins tell me about their plans to chain me to their house or that a new law has mandated that I will never leave. Those things are funny even as the lump in my throat gets bigger when I scoop them up for a last hug.
Or when my mom tells me how she punched her college boyfriend. That's really funny even when I realize that an ocean will squeak its way in between us soon.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Mommy, wow! I'm a big kid now!
I never had Pull-ups. I had poor-ups. As in, get your poor butt up and practice using the big girl potty again. We did not pay for expensive pull-ups. In fact, I think my mom used cloth diapers. Yep, cloth diapers, but not the word butt.
So today, I got my sorry bottom up and dragged it, and my mom, through another wild and disheartening round of shopping. Apparently dressing like a grown-up is a little more difficult than I thought. Especially when I won't shop at stores I heard had labor abuse problems (realistically, probably most of them, but I take it as I learn it), buy the color brown (then I'd have to buy brown shoes), or spend 90,000 for a 6 inch square of cloth. My mother tried to remind me that high heels feel different than Chacos and that shopping at Goodwill for weird t-shirts is different than buying clothes to wear to a business. And no you can't wear those two colors of blue together. My mother is a patient woman.
News for the fashion-conscious who wish to save money: find an old couch and a seamstress. Apparently the new "in-thing" is to be able to lie, camoflaged, on your parent's couch from the 70's. I call it couch-wear. I think some people call it tweed, but I'm not sure. At any rate, buy a nasty couch and take all the fabric to your seamstress to fashion an entire wardrobe. It will save you hundreds. Also fashionable? Belts. There was some sort of belt tacked, swathed, sewn, or draped around roughly 74% of the shirts I encountered.
You are now up-to-date on couch-wear and belts. Please adjust your wardrobe accordingly.
So today, I got my sorry bottom up and dragged it, and my mom, through another wild and disheartening round of shopping. Apparently dressing like a grown-up is a little more difficult than I thought. Especially when I won't shop at stores I heard had labor abuse problems (realistically, probably most of them, but I take it as I learn it), buy the color brown (then I'd have to buy brown shoes), or spend 90,000 for a 6 inch square of cloth. My mother tried to remind me that high heels feel different than Chacos and that shopping at Goodwill for weird t-shirts is different than buying clothes to wear to a business. And no you can't wear those two colors of blue together. My mother is a patient woman.
News for the fashion-conscious who wish to save money: find an old couch and a seamstress. Apparently the new "in-thing" is to be able to lie, camoflaged, on your parent's couch from the 70's. I call it couch-wear. I think some people call it tweed, but I'm not sure. At any rate, buy a nasty couch and take all the fabric to your seamstress to fashion an entire wardrobe. It will save you hundreds. Also fashionable? Belts. There was some sort of belt tacked, swathed, sewn, or draped around roughly 74% of the shirts I encountered.
You are now up-to-date on couch-wear and belts. Please adjust your wardrobe accordingly.
Friday, October 3, 2008
Weird things happen to me these days...
Doing random searches for your name can be interesting. In this manner I found out that I am apparently a recording artist on iTunes. A weird and crappy one, but I have an entire album titled VoKate. Most of the stuff involving my name didn't have many popularity bars next to it. Anne, too bad, you don't have any music on iTunes. Just me. My cassette tape beginning says it all.
I did a search for Cassie's name in the Flair application on Facebook. I came up with a gem of four highschoolers in hideous fluorescent blue choir dresses.
In other news, when I'm not wasting time wondering how many other people in the world have the same name as me, or what albums their recording, I'm packing. I'll pack up everything from this house and move it to my parent's house. And then I will cry and laugh and yell and shake my fist while kicking, jumping, shoving, and smashing all in an attempt to squeeze everything into suitcases. 10 days, people, 10 days.
I did a search for Cassie's name in the Flair application on Facebook. I came up with a gem of four highschoolers in hideous fluorescent blue choir dresses.
In other news, when I'm not wasting time wondering how many other people in the world have the same name as me, or what albums their recording, I'm packing. I'll pack up everything from this house and move it to my parent's house. And then I will cry and laugh and yell and shake my fist while kicking, jumping, shoving, and smashing all in an attempt to squeeze everything into suitcases. 10 days, people, 10 days.
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