Monday, April 27, 2009

Bridget Hops Over to the Mainland

I'm flying high over the Czech Republic with my sister at my side and my WizzAir captain at the reins...and we're all about to die...
It worked as a hook for Rolling Stone in Almost Famous so I thought I'd test it on the critics of BHopsThePond. Hooked?

For two weeks in April I went on a whirlwind European excursion that took me from the tapas of Madrid to the street markets of Notting Hill. I'm back in Preston now with maps, flyers, postcards, and museum guides sprawled out on my bed, trying to sort out the people, places, and feelings of each stop on the tour. Here goes...

MADRID
I flew into Madrid on a Tuesday morning and happily greeted the new, improved Spanish KK (just kidding, she's the same old Baby Cakes from preschool). We found my hostel, which was a feat considering it was hidden two stories above a convenient store with no sign and a fishy smell in the stairway. It turned out to be legit, though: I shared the room with a couple from Florence and a backpacker from Germany, and it was in the cute Tribunal neighborhood. KK and I took a peek around the area and then went on a quick tour of the general downtown area so I could get my bearings. 

We moseyed down some side streets around the Plaza Mayor and found a few great tapas bars to wine and dine in. I loved that you can order a drink and get just a little somethin-somethin to nibble on as well, ranging from cheesy bread to ham to olives and onions. But beware that to ask for something specific is considered rude, so you just have to accept the prawns with their leering eyes and antennas while the delicious cucumber and tomato salad is inches away.

I had the following day to myself since KK had class for her study abroad program. We mapped out a tour de museos and I was pumped to start the day. I wandered around the dark stone halls of the Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reine Sofia first and saw the impressive Guernica- definitely a highlight of the museum, although I was excited to see an Alexander Calder mobile, some old silent films, and works by Le Corbusier (better known as the artist who happens to be the topic of the books I organize in my section of the Art and Architecture library). 

I spent the rest of the day at cafes around Plaza de Santa Ana, in the Museo de Artes Decorativas, and finally the Museo Thyssen Bornemisza. The Thyssen collection is crazy: four floors of greats from the early 16th century to now. Although my feet were taking a hit from the wandering, I loved feeling out Madrid's vibe on my own. I met up with KK later to "tapiar," the Spanish verb for tapas bar-hopping. 

On Thursday, KK and I walked around the awesome Retiro Park and took in the statues, paddle boats, mysterious glass houses, and PDA-crazed lovers. The park is the perfect retreat for city-dwellers and it was nice just to see green everywhere. We finished the night at the Museo Nacional del Prado, where KK taught me all she learned in her Spanish art class about Goya. We were treated to wine and beers by the owners of KK's favorite tapas bar and I sampled their handmade and delicious pesto gnocchi. 


Since the metro schedule conflicted with my early morning flight to Paris, I spent a rough night with a group of rowdy Italian students in the Madrid Barajas airport. Tired, cranky, and rumpled is not the best way to arrive in fabulous Paris, but at least I made 
the flight.

PARIS
I was lucky enough to meet up with Grandpa Mahoney and Gretchen in Paris on their French-Italian excursion, so I quickly hopped on a bus from Paris Orly and found my way onto the metro. I somehow didn't have the address of our meeting point, so I picked a place to hop off in the general vicinity of where I remembered seeing it on the map I had looked at beforehand. I emerged from the metro with expectations of berets, cafe au lait-sipping fashionistas, and 12-inch cigarettes. Instead, I was greeted with African hair salons, a McDonalds, and no cabs in sight. I quickly found a hotel and got the address of the beautiful Westin hotel on Rue Castiglione. Grandpa and Gretchen were waiting in the lobby there to give me a warmer welcome and an amazing share of a hotel room in the heart of Pareee. 


Our first destination was Montmartre and the basilica Sacre Coeur, sites on the top of dear Hannah's "Why I Love Paris" list. I was told Montmartre had better views of Paris than the Eiffel Tower and after climbing- no joke- 15 flights of stairs out of the metro stop I was ready for heart-stopping beauty. After observing some Capoeira performers at our lunch al fresco, we headed to the top of the hill. Sacre Coeur is a cool structure inside and out, and we were lucky to witness the very somber beginning of a service alongside hundreds of other tourists (also avoiding the rain). The views are indeed perfect and walking around the cobbled hilly streets gives you a feel for Parisian life- as well as insight into why the Parisians are so svelte. 

I was treated to a fabulous meal at none other than the Ritz and, somewhat more exciting at that moment, an amazing shower that didn't lose hot water when shampooing and lathering. Life at the Westin is good. 

The following day was rainy again, but that didn't stop us from seeing the Musee d'Orsay or doing some shopping. As I walked back from a trendy shopping neighborhood, I literally stumbled across the Louvre and the Jardin Des Tuileries.


Grandpa and Gretchen left for Italy the following morning and I did a marathon walk to Arc De Triomphe and the Eiffel Tower to fulfill my spring weekend in Paris. It was surreal to be in these iconic places that you've talked about your whole life. There's so many historic, absurdly ornate buildings and monuments in Paris that you almost become jaded looking around. I would like to go back and see what I missed during a crisp and sunny fall break at some point in my life. 


PRAGUEAdd Image
Add ImageOn to the Czech Republic! A lot of people have asked me why Prague and I have to say I was the instigator of this Eastern European trek. But doesn't Prague just sound a bit mysterious, a hidden gem of a city, untouched by world wars and spotted with overall-wearing Communist leftovers? I was sick of the euro and thought I could do some damage with the koruna, so Prague it was.


I excitedly met Caitlin and my friends from Preston, Harry and Toni (and Toni's two best friends from high school in Wisco), at our hostel in Praha.  We were armed with a detailed "Cleggs Guide to Prague" (with coordinating numbered map) that Brendan Clegg prepared for us, which highlighted his favorite sites and restaurants from his study abroad semester there. Our hostel definitely wasn't on this map considering it was in an empty neighborhood about a 15 minute tram ride from the main area of town, but $20/night, a private room (with a bathroom!) for Caits and I, a pool at our disposal, and a full-on club in the back for the many happy hostel-goers made it OK by me. 

Prague gave us perfect weather- the first real sun I had experienced in a long while. We found the Mala Strana neighborhood and made our way up to St. Nicholas Church. On the way we took in awesome views of the city and picked up some 300-koruna coffees (oops, we just got duped into paying $15 for a coffee- the crazy exchange rate isn't that crazy it turns out.) The church is, once again, beautiful, and Caitlin's chatting-up skills with the security guard granted us a clandestine private tour of the crypt containing an altar from the 12th century and remains of the royal.


The food and drink run-down: We (and by we I mean Harry and Caitlin) dined on rabbit and goulash, and then enjoyed some nettle, banana and sour cherry-flavored beer at a restaurant that brews its own beer. I had a fantastic veggie plate with German spatzle. We sat down to a relaxing Cuban meal at La Bodequita (surprisingly, there seems to be a lot of Spanish influence in Prague architecture and food) and the next night, stuffed ourselves with Mexican by our hostel. We sampled cinnamon sugared pastries and delicious local deli sandwiches. We shamefully ended up in a Coyote Ugly bar after missing the bar scene and wandering through patches of pick pocketers and drug dealers. We got snubbed by a waiter and a waitress at an outdoor patio (they obviously didn't know who they were dealing with when they refused to serve Caitlin her glass of sparkling rose wine). And finally, we broke down and bought a big ole Starbucks after repeatedly being served teaspoon-sized cups of coffee. 

Harry, Toni and friends left Wednesday morning, so Caitlin and I had a day of exploring by ourselves. Even though Caits was quite worried about our
 lackadaisical pace of sightseeing on the previous two days, I think we managed to see most of the famous spots in Prague. We walked across the Charles Bridge and saw the vendors' wares, as well as picturesque views of the city from the river. Caits and I also walked through the Josefev Quarter, which is dotted with synagogues and steeped in Jewish history. We saw the Astronomical Clock, which still remains a mystery to me (really, I don't get what it is). Our favorite spot was definitely the John Lennon Wall, which is an ever-changing section of grafittied wall with sayings, names, and paintings to symbolize the Czech cultural revolution in the late 80s. The city is tucked away and more of a big village- and that is what makes it worth seeing. 

Which brings us back to our impending death on WizzAir Flight 1084. After commenting on both the catchy name of the airline and the purple upholstery, Caitlin and I take out seats on the plane from Prague to London. At this point, I'm no nervous flyer and I relax, waiting to hear the ding so I can pop in my iPod. It dings, and I let out a little sigh because that ding means everything's going to be OK according to Lloyd Dobler in the 1989 classic Say Anything. But as I turn the page of my magazine, a flash of light and loud pop leave me grasping for Caitlin's hand and sure I am about to have to use my rain jacket as a parachute over the fields of the Czech Republic. After a grueling two minutes (which we are now saying was 15 minutes) the captain announced it was a routine lightening strike and the plane, "is equipped to handle this". Guh. I'm now officially on my way to flying Grandma Clegg-style: white knuckled and prayers-a-murmuring.

LONDON
Before boarding the plane, but especially after the nightmare flight, I had a knot of excitement in my stomach at the thought of getting back to England. Although London is like a full English breakfast compared to Preston's burnt toast and Marmite (to use a British metaphor), I figured I would feel a bit more comfortable with the food, people, attitudes, customs, etc. in this locale. It was a good omen when I heard my favorite voice announce that the train is entering the station and that we should please make sure we have all our belongings before exiting the train and minding the gap. 

Caitlin and I were joining Caitlin's W. 43rd St. roommates Katie and Nicole, fellow SLU friend Nick, and their study abroad friends, known collectively as The Spaniards. Katie, Nicole, Caitlin, and I stayed at their SLU friend's vacant flat in posh Kensington, where we experienced life in a studio apartment with three other roommates. 

Katie had studied abroad in London so she was our personal tour guide, showing us the London Bridge, Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, and Westminster Abbey. We were lucky to have perfect weather again so we soaked in the sun as we walked through the street market in Notting Hill and watched spring in full bloom at Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park. I snagged some shopping time in SoHo while Cait and Katie networked at Barclay's London office and we all stopped in Harrods for the experience (although I was bummed I couldn't find the exotic lion cub I was after). 

Going out in London was a little hectic, with the Tube closing at 12:3o and club promoters heckling you with "deals" that turn out to be 10-pound cover charges. We managed to find some fun, of course, but we should have figured out the night bus system so we could avoid the expensive black cab prices. It was fun to watch the Barcelona Spaniards obsess over football and it was also reassuring to see that study abroad friends can stay connected and reunite all over the world. Fun times ahead for the P-town crew...

Needless to repeat, but I definitely will, this trip was fabulous.

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