Uh right, it’s been a while. We’ve been to quite a few places since I left you last, which…gosh, must’ve been Rome? So long ago! Let me fly you through a quick tour of each city like I’m Ms. Frizzle on her magic school bus. Or like I’m Willy Wonka in the tunnel scene, except the boat is a train and the tunnel is southwestern Europe and you are the children and it is not disturbing at all.
Idk, choose your own simile.
positano
It wasn’t the right time of year to swim on our trip’s midway beachy break. The gods had not yet gotten around to setting a fire in the ocean (aka, the water wasn’t warm enough) and the jellyfish were still hanging around the shore. No problem. It was relaxing enough, and in fact, our room’s terrace had it’s own picturesque view of the mountainside that was nice enough for us to spend entire days just laying out there after a hearty Italian breakfast of bread, croissants, café lattes, and more bread. The Italians apparently only eat sweets for breakfast which, if you know me at all, is perfectly fine in my book.
It’s the Amalfi coast, so it goes without saying how breathtaking the view of the entire town wedged on the mountainside with the shimmering aquamarine coast below is. But I’ll say it anyway: it’s breathtaking.
One super fun thing was visiting Capri, an island off the coast. From the ferry, we took a teeny tiny bus1 to a certain staircase, down to a small platform where we hopped into a little boat, ducked flat against the floor of said boat to avoid being beheaded by the grotto’s rocky mouth, and entered into a cave with luminous turquoise water and the reverberations of a dozen boat guys crooning in Italian. Once in a lifetime.
We also took a slow ski lift-type thing up to the top of the island where, I don’t know if it was the white haze of the sky blending into the ocean’s horizon or the altitude, but it felt like I was higher up than I’d ever been (not true) or in heaven or something (very possible).
lisbon
Following the lengthiest stay of the whole excursion, being in Lisbon for only two days felt so short, like there was only enough time for me to think, “I love Lisbon!” a couple times before we were on to the next.
Imagine San Francisco’s Portuguese cousin and you pretty much get Lisbon. It’s a city on the water, it’s hilly, has trolley cars, and most of all has its own Golden Gate Bridge. It also has its own Christ the Redeemer, which made the city feel a little like this picture:
Fun fact: it is home to the oldest bookstore in the world!
Another fun fact: This guy sitting alone next to us at a restaurant asked for some of our food when we were done. And we gave it to him? It was so weird.
madrid
Similarly to Lisbon, my internal monologue in Madrid was simply, “I love Madrid! I love Madrid!”
I was sad here because of Mother’s Day, but talking to my friends made me feel human again. I highly recommend it, but only if you have such loving friends as I.
We saw dodie live. Nothing like a great concert and crowd (Madrid GAVEEEEE) to reset your spirits, I think. I laughed, I cried, I danced and sang. What more could you want?
barcelona
Barcelona, like Madrid, like Lisbon, is so colorful. They paint the buildings here mustardy yellows and coral pinks and oranges and bold deep reds, making me wonder why we don’t do the same everywhere.
Mitri was kind enough to tour us around the city. He’s been all around Europe and other parts of the world as a SUCCESSFUL MUSIC PRODUCER and his favorite city is…Barcelona. You know what, I don’t blame him!
On Friday the 13th, Liza continued her yearly tradition of unluckily having her evening plans fall through because I got the date of the Free Museum Night wrong. After a quick pout, we grabbed some drinks from the corner store and got sillay. Then something else happened2, and we ended up in a basement bar with some sweet girls listening to an open mic. So it turned out alright.
Lastly, I want to tell you about one of the best meals of my life.
We took a paella cooking class which was beyond informative and so much fun. I’m not sure I’ve ever had paella before, so I’m glad this was my first experience. We cooked two kinds (seafood and meat) in two giant pans in the host’s backyard garden. It turned out delectable.
The rice was al-dente, for lack of a better descriptor, and packed with a seemingly impossible amount of flavor from the soffrito and all the fixings. I loved to switch between eating the seafood kind—brinier obviously—and the meat kind—gamier and more understated. The tapas, just as delicious, included my new favorites:
Pan con tomate: toasted ciabatta slices with STRONG garlic and halved cherry tomatoes, both of which are grated onto the crust, and topped with salt and a glug of olive oil
Jamón ibérico: shavings of cured pork leg, and the reason I would quickly develop gout if I lived here
Tortilla de patatas: pretty sure this was just an omelette with potatoes, but it had an sweetness? Addictive.
And no account of Barthelona would be complete and accurate if I didn’t mention Liza and I were very much singing all the songs from the iconic film Cheetah Girls 2 the whole time.
TLDR:
And that’s what you missed on Glee.
-Amanda.
All the buses are teeny tiny because the streets are so insanely narrow. This also means that the buses are horridly overcrowded. Wee!
It’s fine. We’ll tell you when we’re back.