A Moment in Madrid

On my 9 hour flight home to Europe from the Midwestern United States, I was squeezed in tightly between two friendly (I supposed) women. At first I had my doubts about how restricted the language barrier would prove. The woman on the left spoke enough English to complain that she didn't have the vegetarian meal, but not enough to actually swindle a veggie option off the flight attendant. The woman on the right was evidently spanish as when I asked if her husband wanted to switch seats with me I was answered with a 3000 mile a minute tongue rolling to which I could respond with nothing except wrinkled eyebrows and a hesitant smile. I decided to take a nap.

However, after waking up to begin my own chicken option complete with mini bottle of spanish white wine, I cracked. Sitting in such close proximity in silence was becoming painful..it was time to break out the already broken english.

"Do you speak English?" I inquired directly to the Spanish lady.
And thankfully, she did, very enthusiastically.
Not only did she speak the global language, but she soon gave me an incredible amount of advice for how to spend my layover in Madrid.

She took my handy little notebook to jot down a list of what I could see in 3 hours, which possible bus routes, and the metro stops after leaving the airport. Then after some musing, she drew a map to match. I was touched.

I then discovered how exactly one can semi-comfortably sleep in the middle of an aisle, which was lucky as my consciousness was going on empty. Woke up a few hours later to see that cute little animated plane on the map on the screen about to touch down in the center of Spain.



Belen's advice led me well, I took the metro to the center of the city and walking down to the museums. The air was nippy but just enough to make me forget I had wanted some caffeine, and the leaves were glorious. Early November is the ideal time to visit a place known for scorching heat.

Hotel Ritz

National Library

The ultra famous 'colon', a statue of Columbus

La iglesia

The Museo del Prado found me at the end of the gleaming walk of Paseo de Recoletos. I tiptoed into the nearby church 'de los Jeronimos' as I can never resist a beautiful cathedral. 

After resting a minute and studying stained glass stories, I stumbled upon the roof of the museum.
If I hadn't been wearing heels, I would've scavenged that labyrinth.

I stayed away from respect for the happy little sparrows

The Museum was one of the grandest I've yet seen. Spanish art evidently cannot be rivalled for color and majesty. The morbid visuals of lopped off heads and suffering philosophers were slightly startling, I admit, but English portraits are a bit stiff in comparison. I was disappointed to see my watch, time slipping by, it was time to get back to the airport.

On leaving the museum, I did a double take. Maybe 60 feet away I saw a...man?
My eyes widened and my forehead creased, no...it couldn't be.
I gladly gave the woman (she seemed to have a feminine voice as she thanked me)
a few coins. I was thoroughly amused.

The Palace of Communication (it sounds so much fancier in spanish)

Just as I was thinking Spain had quite a calm pretty capital, I happened upon a protest. Go figure. Even so, nobody was clawing eyes out and the police even seemed a bit indifferent.

Another gracias to Belen, without whose kindness I would have assuredly given up, or at least would not have enjoyed so much on my mini-adventure.

Nous sommes ce que l'on mange - Springfield, Missouri, USA

Une guide pour manger aux Etats Unis

Avertissement: ça pourrait causer un désir ardent de manger, ou même peut être vous faire grossir.

A car with your apples? Only in America..

Comme je m'agissais genre une touriste pendant mon séjour aux Etats Unis, plus précisément Springfield, Missouri, je me suis dit que c'était encore une bonne occasion de faire un blog comme une étrangere.


Alors, c'était le deuxième blog qui se concentre surtout sur la cuisine. Oui, mesdames et messieurs, voici la nouritture americaine. En fait lorsque je suis arrivée en france, j'avais tellement entendu parler de la nourriture française que je n'avais pas pensé à comment je me nourrirais. C'était une habitude de trouver ce que j'aime bien manger, n'importe où. Mais (oui, il y a un 'mais'), la nourriture française manque de quelquechose pour moi. Peut être que je ne mange pas assez de viande, ou peut être c'est parce que je n'aime pas du tout les champignons, ou peut être il faut que je développe mon gout pour le fromage. En tout cas, j'attendais la visite chez moi avec l'impatience d'une affamée. Bon, oui, c'était pas si dramatique, mais tu vois ce que je veux dire.

Ainsi, je mangeais, ahhh oui, je mangeais, et j'ai pris des photos. Peut être l'amerique du nord n'a pas une culture ancienne, mais il y a des monuments sur les assiettes. Les nachos, le poulet frit, la glace, les tacos, les burritos, les cookies...regardez bien.

On commence normalement avec le petit-dejeuner et un café ou un thé.

An american patisserie, also does fantastic pumpkin lattes and soups!
Panera Bread Co.

A pumkin bagel with strawberry cream cheese
Einstein Bros Bagels

Pick up a frappachino from the shop on the way to work?

Nummy french toast, complete only with maple syrup and powdered sugar.
Springfield Family Restaurant

My favorite Scary Berry Mocha
The Mudhouse 

Cinnamon swirl roll, just the way mom should have made it

Et bien assez tôt, le déjeuner

Kung Pow and sweet glazed chicken with chow mein and a spring roll.
Panda Express-best American Chinese! 

Half a Sergio burrito stuffed with chicken and beef
Maria's Mexican

Nachos maison, couldn't resist adding this one
because these jalepenos were sweetened..
I could live on them!!

Best gourmet burgers in existence
blackened chicken Burnin' Love,
complete with fried jalepenos and infinite sweet tea.
Red Robin

Salad created par moi at the salad bar
Yes, if you can imagine it, you can eat it
Bistro Market

Vous avez soif?

Tori models the soda machine with over 100 options

Oh yes, Dr. Pepper.
And this wasn't the only dedicated section in the supermarket. 

Or a pumpkin beer? Tis the season!

Et quelques heures plus tard, le dîner:

The most incredible sushi found east of Japan
(bottom left-the yummy roll, you'll never go back to regular sushi)
Kai

The appetizer plate
Wings, nachos, artichoke dip, cheesesticks, and some veggies
This will take a 24 hour recovery.
Old Chicago

Appetizer plate
Nachos, stuffed potato skins, and fried chicken
(are you noticing the nacho theme yet?)
Cheddar's

Et évidemment, il faut finir dans un peu de douceur..

Cheesecake sweet enough to melt your heart 

The frozen yogurt bar, load up those candies!
Orange Leaf

A pint of pumkin pie concrete? Nah, we'll go for the quart..
Andy's Frozen Custard

White chocolate ice cream shake
Steak n Shake

Homemade red velvet cookies..
they're a bit like pringles, once you start,
you're fighting over the last one.

J'espère que vous avez bien goûter mentalement la nourriture de chez moi!

Sunny San Sebastian

There comes a moment when the summer is drawing to a close and one begins to hyperventilate from withdrawals. Reality of a daily work schedule begins to set in, and the summer free-for-all fun is rapidly fading, like the contents of my bank account at the olympic gift shop.

In my case, however, my kind and telepathic CS (couchsurfing) friends Laura and Corentin heard the little whiny voices in my head plee for one last getaway.

The night I met the couple, at my first Toulouse CS meeting last April, Laura had told me her dream was to drive a big truck. I burst out laughing thinking she was joking. I quickly swallowed my giggles when Corentin turned his serious eyes on me and clarified the 'big truck' was actually a camping van.


Well there it was, they had bought the adorable little red camping car of dreams at the beginning of the summer, and it was finally my turn to try out the overhead sleeping space.

And off we went to the pays basque, to glorious San Sebastian, or 'Donostia'.




After parking on the cliffs, we meandered past the port through the old city, admiring 'un vrai coin' of Spain.

Dating from 1912

My quick search for touristy no-misses led us around Playa de la Concha (my rough translation--sparkling golden beach of perfection) to ride the old world funicular railcart up Monte Igueldo to the attraction park and some of the best known spanish views.

Corentin and I convinced Laura to accompany us fear-seekers on an adorable rickety rollercoaster ride, thinking the scare level was for itsy bitsy little ones. The pictures Corentin took prove otherwise..






The other rides proved slightly less intimidating, poor Laura should have began with the bumper boats. She growled at us after, thinking we had done it on purpose...why I never..

The old look-out tower

Did I say a good view? I meant terrifying drop.

A walk around the bottom of Monte Igueldo found iron art sculptures with a background of temultous waves. We watched a bride and groom nearly get soaked as they had their pictures taken, and I continually hid behind Corentin to avoid the splashes.

Isle de Santa Clara

As the sun began to shimmy on down, I took it in hand and demanded (with my ultra-practiced pleading eyes) that we go to Santa Clara island, only a little boat ride away from the beach.



Once there, we hiked up the trails and found perfect grassy nooks for yoga, naps, or...well..whatever comes to mind. From the island actually were my favorite views. Or maybe I was just getting a Robinson Crusoe vibe, and felt like everything was especially brilliant.

At that moment, San Sebastian seemed the perfect place
to retire to play card games with friends day after day.

And the boat ride back provided an relaxed ambience with the striking sunset.
Everyone on the boat gazed back at the island,
sighing in admiration and snapping a quick photo.

As on any other trip to a country known for its delicacies (which is...every?), we went in search of the best tastes. I'm not a huge fan of paella, mostly because shellfish make my skin crawl, but I found a dish of stuffed red peppers and sweet sangria which gave me a satisfied grin. Laura and Corentin had their paella, and I'll just say that perhaps I made a better decision.

On the walk back to the van we breathed in the sea air as the waves were still crashing against the port, and the calm glow of the tranquil city lit our path.

You know those machines with the sounds to help you sleep better? I always loved the wave setting. During the night I woke often to the sound of the water slamming against the concrete, and I shivered in delight. However sleepy I was in the morning, I didn't mind!

We had originally planned to go hiking in the country the second day, but the beach was calling. We gladly answered. Vamos a la playa, right? We brought a classic french picnic-tomatoes, cheese, bread and munched happily in the sand. I then decided a snooze was in order, and pretended to sleep through corentin dripping cold water on my toes.

At San Sabastian, similarly to Rio,
a large lone white statue of Christ guards the highest point. 

For our final tour of paradise, we scouted the trails up Monte Urgell and thoroughly delighted in the castle, in which a history museum sneakily hid. A few rooms displayed pictures and video presentations of San Sebastian culture over the century. One stone room was set up as a genuine silent film theater with plush cinema seats. I could snuggle up to that every day.


Around the castle sprinkled little cells, I suppose the spanish were into torture? I'm not sure what causes my fascination, but I think I climbed inside each of them. At least the view through their little barred windows was breathtaking.

Saying goodbye to Donostia was more difficult than we had imagined. But we danced our way down the hill and vowed to return.