I’m one of those people who plans. I’m also one of those people who lie awake at night going over my plans, walking through each step, checking each box. I even have a special picture I have to go to in my mind to force myself to relax and get some sleep. Well this process was on overload all of last week, but now the sweet relief of fulfillment and come and I now have an even better mental picture to soothe myself with...
It started out like the rest of my weeks here in London. I was tired, sore, and in no mood to commute to work. But I did and spent 2 ½ days writing feature articles. On Wednesday, I woke up feeling feverish but went to work anyway. After about 2 hours of not being able to concentrate on anything and a temperature of what I would guess was about 101, I asked if I could go home. This is when public transportation is the absolute worst option. I was so nauseous and shaky that every person who walked by wearing perfume or smelling like cigarettes, seemed to me a fair target. Thankfully I made it home without incident and went straight to bed. When I woke up, I was feeling a bit better and tried to force down some dry bread. This was a bad decision, and I spent literally the rest of the night in and out of the bathroom, not a fun time. I called in sick on Thursday morning and went back to sleep, only to be woken up by a teenage boy walking into my bedroom. He was part of the cleaning crew that comes to our flat every week, but I have determined that WAY too many people have a key to my place…I couldn’t sleep much after that.
But when Friday morning came, the excitement I felt about going to Spain pushed any sicky feelings to the far back of my mind. So if you don’t know, once you are in Europe traveling from country to county is quite cheap, sometimes as little as $5. However, what they don’t tell you is the amount of additional charges, travel, and lines you must wait in to make up for that price. Summer and I left the flat about 8am, walked to the tube, rode the tube for 20 min. to the train station, took at 50 minute train to Stanted Airport, stood in 2 enormous lines to have our visa check and then go through security, (minor side note: as neither of us were accustomed to flying with only carry-on luggage, we were quickly relieved of probably about 5lbs each, including shampoo, lotion, sunscreen, and my proactive solution which is quite expensive), once on the plane the flight was very pleasant and about 2 hours later we came over the incredible Mallorcan North Coast.
Once at the Airport, my first thought was to get money. Well there was only 1 ATM in the whole place and it was broken…hmmm, what to do. I’m very pleased to say that my Spanish was more than sufficient and I was able to communicate near perfectly the whole time there. I finally found a nice woman who told me there was a hidden ATM on the 5th floor, we found it and were ready to go. We then made our way to the bus stop that would take up to the bigger Bus Plaza in Palma, when the bus arrived, the driver informed me that he would not take more that a 10 Euro bill, we had only 50’s. After about a minute of him banging loudly on a clearly marked sign, I decided he was not going to budge for a nice pair of American tourists. Our only other option was to take a taxi to the plaza, which cost a pretty penny, but got us there. Once at the plaza we found where our next bus was and got some Coca-Cola and Water while we sat and waited. It was now 6pm.
Once on the bus, the drive was quite nice. It was great to see some of the island landscape and it reminded me a lot of Guam, but less tropical than Hawaii. 50 minutes later, the bus dropped us in Porto d’Alcudia, a small village on the northeast side of the island. Then it was up to me to get us to our hostal. We walked, and walked, then we walked a little farther. When there was no more beach to follow, I decided I must asked that super cute Spanish boy at the Italian restaurant (he returns to the story later). After just a few minutes and once again brimming with the success of my Spanish tongue, we were back on the right track.
Hostal Calma was quaint and homey and the owner was very friendly. She walked us to our room and even suggested the best place to go for paella. We got dressed quickly and headed out for dinner, it was now 8:30pm. We found the place she was said and settled in for a fabulous meal. I had calamari and summer had the famous seafood paella, it was all delicious. After that we walked around looking for some night life and then decided to call it a night.
In the morning we got up and ready for our much anticipated day on the beach. While the sun was hiding and there was a breeze, it was a most perfect day by the sea. Summer and I walked for miles along the Platja Alcudia, spent some time on the end of a dock in the water, and sipped on sangria (not the best I’ve ever had) while watching some serious beach volleyballers. One the way home we stopped at a hotel beach café for lunch and then grabbed some delicious gelato.
After showering and icing Summer’s sunburn, we headed out for Italian food, hint hint. We sat down at the table and right away, caught the eye of the nice boy who helped me before. The rest of the night he was standing at the bar with the other servers, starring at me. Summer was the one who kept noticing and saying “My goodness, he is burning a hole in you with his eyes!” Then he started walking over to the table, smiling, forgetting to say something, and then walking off. He did this more than 5 times. I thought it was endearing, Summer thought it was embarrassing. We enjoyed our pizza, steak, wine, and tiramisu for almost 2 hours before finally summoning the check. Oh yes, that is something that I’ve learned, servers do not bring you the check even if your plates have been cleared and they have asked twice if you want coffee, you must ask for it. We said goodbye, and must to my dismay, pretty Spanish boy did not run out of the restaurant after me…oh well, he was fun to look at.
Sunday morning we made our way back to Palma early enough to have a walk around the city center before needing to be back at the airport. We walked along the beach and around the Cathedral del Palma, a gorgeous gothic cathedral that is the face of Palma. We had lunch at a small café down a cobblestone alley; it reminded me a lot of Paris. We then made our way back to the airport and started the journey home.
So I’m back in London, continuing my internship, and I just keep noticing how truly happy I am to be here in Europe, finally fulfilling a long awaited dream of mine. Oh and that new picture in my head…me under a thatch cabana on the white sands of Alcudia, with Rafa lying next to me, of course…he!
Well, I shouldn’t wait so long to blog since this one is now longer than a novel of my life. This weekend we are set to go to Frankfurt, Germany to visit Summer’s college friend. That is assuming that the UK doesn’t close the boarders due to all the swine flu pandemonium.
Here are the pictures from Spain, again it’s much easier to post them on facebook and give you the links…enjoy!!
P.S. Just because I’m in a fabulous European city doesn’t mean that I don’t get lonesome for some love from home…
http://www.facebook.com/home.php#/album.php?aid=248606&id=501285626&ref=mf
http://www.facebook.com/home.php#/album.php?aid=248620&id=501285626&ref=mf
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