The train to a snowy city

I have quite the soft spot for trains and train stations. Must be the nostalgia of my backpacker days. It feels comforting to be on a real train and not just a subway car. That feeling of running past sites and sounds of a landscape as you head on a long journey flying past trees, hills, small towns and racing with cars.

Today it snows outside the train car's window. As we head west, the water drops slowly transform into slushy ice. And further out as we speed past Minneola, the sleet has transformed itself into a powdery snow that now blankets the platform, billboards and parked cars. It is the quiet peacefulness that the atmosphere outside invokes that reminds me of how trains were always my most favorite places to reflect on travels of the past, the present, and to build my future journeys.

***

On our first long weekend in the Spring semester of 2005, I decided to take a solo journey from Florence to Palermo, Sicily. A ballsy move for someone who was still learning the language, I decided that the best way to delve into the culture was to step outside the bounds of my comfort zone (namely, a 4-villa estate filled with American students, most of whom had no interest in Italian culture beyond making out with Italians and getting drunk on wine), take a 13-hour ride on a midnight train to the depths of Italy where there was slim chance of encountering an english-speaking native.

That night, I ran to the Santa Maria Novella train station with my pre-bought tickets and hopped on the first car sitting on the via where my train was going to be--at least it said so on the printed schedule.

The train begins to move and I realize that it seemed far more of a commuter train than a sleeper train... but I didn't think too much of it... until the man who sat across from me asked me where I was headed in Italian, and in my spantalian, I replied "a train bound for Sicily".

Surprise, surprise. The train I was on was headed for the hills, quite literally. It was, indeed, a commuter train bound for the hills of Fiesole and completely chugging in the wrong direction.

I started to slightly panic, strode to the first conductor I could find, and told him my dilemma. He runs off to the engineer and talks some stuff that was beyond my 2-week Italian comprehension, and next thing I know, I was being left behind on a station platform in the middle of no-where-Tuscany hoping I wouldn't get mugged or kidnapped... and praying that maybe I'll run into some nun who will help me find my way.

The conductor said just wait at the platform and everything would be okay. They waved goodbye and started chugging off into the darkness... and boy, was it dark.

But no more than 5-minutes later, a train heading back to Santa Maria Novella arrived with the new conductor telling me I could catch my train for Sicily at the closer station one stop before the Florence city center... Turns out they communicated to find out where they would be crossing paths so I could quickly take my train back.

Thus began my most memorable first trip on my own and my love affair with Italy, its people, its culture, and of course, its gastronomic brilliance.

Atapuerca -primera quincena

A letter to the lovelies of Atapuerca's first half (please forgive all the grammatical typos...I'm working to remember my Spanish):

Hola majos!!! Qué tal vais? Como van los otros yacimientos, thesis,
vacaciones, estudias, curros, y no se qué?

Yo, por ahora, estoy en Santiago aprovechando un poquito de Galicia (y
las fiestas gallegas también). Estoy con Maria (portalóna) haciendo
un poquito de vacaciones antes de pinilla. Yo he acabado de visitar
(después de atapuerca) Zaragoza, Catalunya, y Alcala. Al final no he
ido a Sardinia porque un amigo me ha invitado a un pueblo cerca de
Lleida por fiestas, pero bueno...lo veréis en las fotos.

Quieria mandar este mensaje porque todavía alguna gente no tiene email
de todo el mundo (y me faltan algunas personas también).
Pues nada. Espero que estáis bien y se quiereis ver algunas fotos, las
miyas son aquí:
picasaweb.google.com/kmarian.viterbo
Y se tenéis facebook, busca me.

Besos a todos y nos veremos!!!
-kyle

ATP '08
Tania Condado yune_bio@hotmail.com
Rebe rebe_gargon@hotmail.com
Marian marianagape79@hotmail.com
Laura lrgagisto@hotmail.com
Marta martafn86@hotmail.com
Ana gitchi212@hotmail.com
Eva H. gladiador3@hotmail.com
Patri lbc_p@hotmail.com
Ciaran ciaranbrewster@me.com
Ana I anaiortegam@gmail.com
Ele cciconia1@hotmail.com
Carre (george clooney) jmcarre@ubu.com
Diego diegotgr@hotmail.com
Edu edutarres@hotmail.com
Ana Delia ana.churra@gmail.com
Asier asiergo@gmail.com
María Meri ayla296@hotmail.com
Evusky evusky5@hotmail.com
Cristina cristina.pombal@yahoo.com.br
Susanne edaly41@mercyhurst.edu

Río '08
Gloria cuencag@unizar.es
Mila malgaba@isciii.es
Claudia cloalpo@yahoo.es
Peru perukote@hotmail.com
Jorge jorgeruiz81@gmail.com
Freddy amoros@paleoymas.com
Juan jrofes@unizar.es
María Melero mmelerorubio@gmail.com
Noemi noemi_tolkien@hotmail.com
Hugo hablain@prehistoria.urv.cat
Raxa elraxa@hotmail.com
Raquel (con rastas) raquelrabal@hotmail.com

Trinchera '08
Carmen carmen_xvii@hotmail.com
Alfonso(geólogo) alfonso.benito@cenieh.es
Sandra sanbac82@hotmail.com
Keiko etceterra@gmail.com
Angela(heavy) angelavarelaneila6@hotmail.com

-xoxo-

Paris, yet again...

Paris, yet again...

The train from Brussels-Zuid to Paris Nord is about an hour and a
half, and riding it in first class is just fantastic. Food prepped and
extra elbow room. On board, wi-fi is available at a hefty €6,50 per
hour.

The trip to the hostel wasn't too bad though trash noticeably littered every corner. Paris has gotten subsequently dirtier over the years, though maybe I've only seen the deliberately cleaner tourist areas these past four years.

No. Paris--the true Paris--is uninviting and far too much of a sprawled city for me. Though it just may be the biased New Yorker talking, the bright lights in this big city gives it the smoked and mirrored allure romanticized by tourism, impressionist art, and Sabrina (the Audrey Hepburn-Humphrey Bogart version).

Should I ever live in France, I would most definitely avoid the larger cities. Francophone Belgium has given me the desire to properly learn French. Once I have internet again, I'll be sure to look for French language schools somewhere the likes of Montpellier or Lyon. Bah, who knows? I always concoct these grand schemes when I'm away but life always manages to steer me in another direction.

My stay in Paris, on this round anyway, was highlighted by the 2008 Eurocup finals match between Spain and Germany. The hostel had been split between those heading to Germany and those heading to Spain. The hostel itself, St. Christopher in Paris, is a shining monument to Ikea, with Japanese-style bunk beds (the type that makes you feel like you lived in a submarine or a coffin) complete with sockets and personal lamps. The hostel bar is frequented by locals most likely looking for an amorous romp with eager (horny) travelers (aka obscenely privileged American students) and eager travelers (insert horny-17-year-olds-looking-for-Dianne-Lane-Under-the-Tuscan-Sun-tryst).

Now not EVERYONE in the traveling world is a horny 17-year-old looking to find a summer fling to check off his/her to-do list. There are some pretty awesome folks out there trying to taste a little bit of the world, like the folks I met and shared the evening with cheering on the Spanish national team. However, you certainly (and unfortunately) do come across the former a lot. It can be interesting to watch, on a very anthropological/scientific manner, but damn it, when they get pissed drunk and start spilling out the sidewalk, it certainly makes one feel... old and irrelevant. Or maybe that's just me.

At any rate, Paris has yet to put its non-touristy charm on me. There have been exciting fun moments when I've traveled about with friends or new acquaintances, but it has yet to fully grow on me. Aside from last year's old-homeless-man-versus-Shakespeare&Co-grad-student-bookstore-guy incident, coupled with that ridiculously old man who tried to put his "I am a french man, I will make love to you under the Eiffel Tower" move on me, Paris is on my shortlist of cities-that-still-need-work-to-love.

Or maybe I just keep going back before I should...

Amsterdam and getting side-swiped by a space cake

Humans have been gifted with an unnaturally long life span but as Einstein believed, it is also incredibly relative. As an athlete (except for my intense love for food) I've always tried to maintain a sane mind and healthy body free of toxins (not including the occasional alcohol of course). I have never had any interest in taking any kind of drug (except for 'tussin and sugar).

But when in Amsterdam...

I've done research and had a plan; and thankfully, I met a very friendly Brasilian named Matteus to accompany me in my scientific experiment; because when it comes down to it, I am but a mere servant to my curiosity.

A note on Amsterdam, the city.

It is amazingly beautiful and I was in love with it after the first day. The dutch pancakes are insane... As in as big as my face (that is, if it were flattened to the size of a pizza). The people are beautiful and generally of a good jovial nature. If I lived in a city like that, I would be, too. However, without a job or a study abroad curriculum, I would probably run out of things to do after 3 days. I do wish I had more time to explore Holland. Ah well there's always a next time.

The space cake.

I had gone back to the hostel and met with a fellow traveler whose name escapes me. Funny Brazilian fella with a knack for bringing along unusual souvenirs from his travels (i.e. glow-in-the-dark heavy metal skeleton). We exchanged travel stories and decided that it would be a fantastic idea to go to a wi-fi enabled Coffee Shop to try some of the more college-reknowned Amsterdam delicacies, then head over to the Red Light District assessing the view. He had also mentioned that taking pictures when stoned lends to a very distinctive artistic eye, so we grabbed our favorite cameras and headed off into the center.

After literally scouting all of eastern Amsterdam for the perfect "Coffee" spot, we decided to park ourselves in a very rasta-flavored joint.

Immediately after opening the door, we were met with the thick unmistakable aroma of weed, hash and coffee with chill jamaican mixes playing in the background, and a gigantic Miami-style parrot stooped above the door... as if the hyper-jungle theme wasn't enough, there was a hammock to boot. Brazilian-buddy parked himself on a stool, laid out his laptop and ordered us a couple of cappucinos with a side of paper and hash for himself, and a giant slice of "space cake" for me.

As we sat comparing travelogue photographs swapping adventure stories, I began eating my unsuspectingly delicious space cake. With an eye on my watch, I expected to experience some sense of drugness to take effect half an hour to 45-minutes after ingesting this thing. I even left half of the cake in case they packed a lot of weedness into the butter (Brazil, for lack of a better name, had graciously explained the entire history behind weed and hash, and even offered me tips on the best space cake recipes--we had a 2-hour conversation on the varying types of weed in Amsterdam while at the hostel).

Half an hour goes by. Forty-five minutes. One whole hour. Nothing. Two whole hours and I decide that I am an impenetrable fortress of fantastic health and my liver had cleansed my body of any drug. Either that or I just had the most expensive, strange-tasting cake I've ever had in my life (at 4 euros for a pound-cake slice). Disappointed yet somewhat relieved, Brazil comforts me by dragging me along the Red Light District canal observing the thoroughfare that go through in the famous drag of the city.

Pretty hookers. Ugly hookers. Man-woman hookers. Unfortunately no scantily clad men on those neon-red windows, but between the Japanese tourists pointing and looking on with awe, the stupid young frat boys egging their buddies to go into transvestite windows, and local blue-collar men walking making their appointments, the Red Light District is an anthropologist's mecca of social interaction between social norms and taboos.

Three hours later and STILL no go.

After zigzagging in and out of the labyrinthine streets in this district, Brazil and I decide that the Red Light District is interesting, but not all that it's cracked up to be. So we decided to start heading south looking for more plazas and areas to take artistic pictures of.

Four hours later, having covered just about every plaza in the center of Amsterdam, we decide to head down towards the huge park near our hostel, behind the Rijks and Van Gogh museums. We stop briefly to freak out about the scarlet-red sky burning at sunset, grab a couple of beers at a night shop, and head on down through the park. We take awesome long-exposure shots of the amsterdam sign in front of the Rijks museum and I begin to notice that I desperately need water.

My mouth is incredibly dry. My tongue felt as if it had tripled in size. It kept sweeping over my teeth and I kept telling Brazil I needed water. Aside from this, things still felt normal, though I couldn't stop complaining how my space cake had yet to take its effect FOUR AND A HALF HOURS LATER.

We get to the hotel/hostel and the folks in the room had changed. It is now filled with four other American girls from the middle-of-no-where America (minus one Irish-American chick). They, at first, seemed incredibly nice and we begin swapping the day's stories and suggesting places for them to visit. Then the Irish chick (with a strong mid-west American accent) began talking. And all I could think of is, "why won't she stop talking? Jeez, she just never stops talking. She's never going to stop talking. Why is she still talking?"

And then I realized, the space cake has just TOTALLY side-swiped me! Lights begin to dance and everything is just far too slow for a New Yorker's mind to be processing. It felt like my 2008 G5 Mac was just replaced by a Windows '95 system and is dialing-up AOL to get online (wow, I am such a nerd sometimes...).

I freak. And decide that this feeling should never be repeated unless I am in nature and was about to paint something.

And because this Irish chick refused to stop YAMMERING about bullshit, I decide that it was time for me to hide under the covers and make myself sleep.

Five minutes of feeling high was enough for me, and I awoke the next day wondering why the hell it took nearly five hours for the cake to hit.

And that's the story of my only experience getting drugged (aside from alcohol).

***

Back to normalcy, the next day was spent writing postcards and visiting the Van Gogh museum. I really should have saved a bit of the space cake (I ate the rest while assessing the prostitutes along the Red Light District) to eat just before going to the Van Gogh museum. It was an interesting experience, and though Van Gogh never was a favorite painter of mine, I understood then why it was he painted the way he did.

As I continue on my journey to Bruges, the train speeds through the Dutch country side. All I see is Van Gogh everywhere animating the wind in the trees, caressing each dandelion, combing through the overgrown grass. Holland is beautiful and Van Gogh's works suddenly mean more
than bold brush strokes and solid unmixed palettes.

I will have to return here some day and visit the tulip fields outside Amsterdam. That will be saved for when I can enjoy it with Dutch friends over amazing (unlaced) dutch pancakes.

Copenhagen, Part 2

Copenhagen, Part 2

In the span of a full afternoon, I managed to cover the rest of
Copenhagen that I wanted to see. I started off the soggy morning
taking a fantastic (quick, easy, painless) canal boat tour of
Copenhagen. Accompanied by what appeared to be several generations of
an Italian family, I learned the full history and layout of Copenhagen
in Danish, English and Italian. It was a lot of fun getting a boatside
view of the city though I wished it lasted a bit longer.

Time was on my side as the Danish Royal Palace's changing of the guard
started fifteen minutes after I finished the boat tour. It was a very
confusing and extremely uninteresting scene since they play no music
when the queen is not home and spend the better time of the hour
standing at one end of the plaza staring at each other and not moving.

At least watching this has confirmed all my theories of being a royal
guard: a- wear large fuzzy hats, and b- must have just finished puberty.

A half hour later, I walked over to the large cathedral next to the
royal plaza and was lucky that one of the only 2 tours offered a day
was just beginning. For 25DKK, I was able to get a grand view of both
the city and the queen's backyard. Boasting a cupola that was farely
sizeable, though nothing to Florence's Duomo or that of St. Peter's
in the Vatican, it was still worth the $5 just to see the top of the
city. (Or maybe it's just my Napoleon complex...)

After that, I headed back for the hostel, grabbed a very quick and
early dinner and left on my 7pm 15-hour train ride to Amsterdam.

I hate only having seats on an overnight train... Uncomfortable and
barely any rest, the train itself arrived 4 hours late at its
destination cutting my Amsterdam day in half.

At the hostel/hotel, I decided to get some kind of rest and set my
alarm for a quick nap. Unfortunately, my 2pm nap turned into full on
sleeping, and I awoke the next day at 6am.

Ah, the adventures of misadventures.

Copenhagen, Part 1

Copenhagen, Denmark

June 20th, arrival in Copenhagen Airport. Took 13-min train to
Koebenhaven H (Copenhagen Central station).

Accomodation:
City Public Hostel
Absalonsgade 8
(10 min walk west of train station)

Weather: variable from warm under sun to freezing under cloud cover.
Susceptible to sudden rainpours.

As horrible and incompitent as I feel speaking english, everyone else
seems to as well. If only I at least knew how to say hello and thank
you...

Don't let the large denomination fool you. Though the exchange rate is
~4.78DKK to the dollar, one item on the cheapest food menus are around
40DKK. To put this in perspective, a shawarma I ate yesterday (a
staple to the NYU student diet) was 68 DKK. That would be somewhere
just under $15. Yeah. I try not to cry and console myself with the
fact I'm only here for 2 days.

I will say Copenhagen is definitely one amongst the most colorful
cities I've been to. This morning, in an attempt to curb my jetlag
immediately, I got up around 6:30am and was out the door to explore by
7am. It may have been a mistake on my part to walk out with an empty
stomach as nothing in this city opened before 9:30am. At any rate,
walking about so early definitely had the advantage of allowing me to
admire the entire center in quiet solitude. Bright, beautiful, and
freezing, I was able to tool around all important sites within 3
hours. It was bizarre to find myself in a large city absolutely empty
of any living thing. It almost felt eerie, yet not one second did I
feel unsafe. If you have a Holga, Copenhagen would be the perfect city
to use it.

Waking up so early and walking around for so long had a bit of a
negative effect on my poor sick self. On my return I decided to take a
quick nap. It had been about 10:30am and I figured napping before
lunch would revitalize me for an afternoon of exploring all of
Copenhagen's canals by boat. By the time I got up, 9 hours had already
passed, yet my body kept telling me to stay in bed and recuperate from
this horrible cold I managed to catch my last few days in New York.

At any rate, I immediately got up and refreshed myself, bid hello-
goodbye to the fella in front desk, and headed out the door for plan
B: exploring Vesterbro.

Vesterbro, located on the southwest corner of the city, is a
traditional working class neighborhood. Though walking through it
reminded me of walking through my neighborhood, there are small
pockets of surprises everywhere you turn. Hip designer shops, trendy
cocktail bars and clubbing venues can be found hidden within alcoves
of resident buildings off the main strips. This being the case,
Vesterbro is a lot more fun to explore since every residential street,
as quiet as it may seem, hides surprises that locals venture to. The
best part, it is very un-touristy!

If you should find yourself here; do yourself a favor and grab a cup
of tea at the quaint and cozy tea shoppe Tante The on the corner of
Vesterbrogade and Viktoriagade. It has a cozy mix of antique furniture
(couches, tea tables, and armchairs), is lit by warm candle light, has
small black & white family portraits on the wall next to portraits of
the royal family, and is set to the perfect mood by Ella Fitzgerald
and Louis Armstrong. Stop by, pull out your postcards and sip some
excellent tea. Don't worry. The locals are the only one filling this
tiny pot.

TONIGHT
Eurocup '08 match: Netherlands vs. Russia
Tivoli Gardens, one of the oldest amusement parks in the world.

Note: City Bikes are supposedly everywhere and are available for free
to tour the city at your leisure. I've yet to encounter one...

Pre-Field Season Prep. It's Cramming Time.

Time seems to fly so quickly these days. Preparations for my departure are well underway with less than a week to go. I've finished off the cafe job and am hoping that the savings I've managed to collect will be sufficient for the summer's surprises.

Considering how lodging and meals are completely provided for on our sites, I figure I'll be able to spend most of my money on tooling around the surrounding regions, and neighboring E.U. countries. I'm all well set with my 6-day, 5-country Eurail pass and am quite excited for Copenhagen... though I cannot but worry how I'll cross an entire continent to get to Burgos for the first day of excavation.

Who cares? C'e la vie. Like Paul Coelho would say, the universe only conspires in your favor, therefore let it be my wings and guide me through my adventures!

update from Pinilla, excavation #3

How is everyone? I have been MIA for a really long time, way out of reach of phone coverage and internet but things are going very well at the moment. I am still alive and I figure that´s pretty fantastic.

I am currently in my 3rd excavation. I know, I said I was heading for 2 but those wonderful people from my first excavation invited me to join the next one, and who was I to turn down a fantastic chance to hit up the Pyrenees??? (Speaking of, it is the beginning of AUGUST and I am freezing my ass off... I bet it's crazy hot in NY and Philippines or whereever it is you currently are. Heehee.)

Really quick update:

Week 1: Portugal. Seville.

Lisbon, AMAZING. People are great. Music is fantastically passionate and melancholy. Food, AMAZING. Hostel... the owner is all I could remember (Ah Leah, if only we were there at the same time...).

Lagos. UNBELIEVABLE. A true black hole. Did not want to leave, except for the fact that my FAVORITE camera in the world (my dual lens, you know the one) got washed over by salt water while I kayaked the coast. Had to buy a new one in Seville and send my old one home. Really great place. LEARNED HOW TO SURF. Met tons of Australians who partied like we pregame during Spring Break. I would have as well except for the fact that we have been partying non-stop before graduation and I was a bit burnt out.

Seville, Spain. Beautiful. Hot and dry as heck but the FLAMENGO (???) was to spectacular.

Weeks 2-5, Dig 1: La Cova Gran (Santa Linya, Les Avellanes, Catalunya Spain)

Found hoards of stuff. People were fantastic. Food was amazing. Stone tools... ridiculous amounts of BPs, BPFs, etc. etc. and realized how I must be living in the wrong city as everyone around me are ridiculously good looking. First 2 weeks were filled with Brits. 2nd 2 weeks were filled with me struggling to get back my spanish... and fumbling with spantalian. FYI... my spanish is better, but now I can't remember my Italian.

Lived right next to the river so we swam a lot and the ONE bar in the really small town became our second home... every night. CRAZY! Oh... and HEROES ended in week 3 here. Ah, seeing it a second time and in Catalan... that was an experience.

Weekend of the 15th, went to visit Rolf (a colleague from the American Museum of Natural History) at his site, Atapuerca... only probably the most important paleoanthropological site in all of Spain. LIKE A FACTORY, the place is huge and breathtaking. Got the insider's tour and met tons of great important people. Lots of fun! That was one helluva 10-hr one-way trip up to Burgos, but was soooo worth it considering how much fun it was.

Week 4: discovered a new archaeological site, filled with Horse remains, lithics, AND HUMAN BONES!!!

And because I got so excited about finding a HORSE TOOTH right away, they called me Caballo-Loco (crazy for horses)... and now we call the site CABALLO LOCO (crazy horse). Pretty fantastic. Age 21, discovered a Neanderthal occupation site in the middle of no where. INDIANA JONES CAN EAT MY DUST.

Weeks 6-7, Dig 2: Balma Guilanya (Solsona, Catalunya Spain. Right at the mouth of the Pyrenees)

IT HAILED. Freezing mornings and evenings. Great weather. Very much like the Poconos... really pretty. HIKED A LOT!!! 4-hr excursions in the mountains... I nearly died 7 times. I've only 2 lives left, it seems.

FOUND HUMAN BONES!!! Woo-hoo! Really exciting stuff! Slept on the floor of a small preschool for 2 weeks. Nothing but a highway nearby. It was fantastic! You could see the stars`perfectly. Only thing was that there was nothing to do, really. Not much anyhow. But hey, if there's one thing Spaniards can do right, that would be to party.

Both weekends, FIESTA MAYORES of the two small towns near the first excavation. Spaniards know how to party, all right. Bands and dancing all night long. AND CHURROS... granted they were burnt, but hey, if you're hella tired and just a little drunk, anything tastes good at 5 in the morning.

Great experience. Got to know tons of people and now I have friends to stay with in Barcelona, the Basque Country, Valencia and Madrid anytime I want. The archaeological experience I gained was pretty fantastic... I BECAME THE GO-TO PERSON WHENEVER THEY FOUND BONES!!!

There are pictures up online. I am pretty amazed at how far I've gone and the friends I've made, the experiences I've had. Good times. 7 weeks flew by so quickly and now I'm in another excavation experiencing new things... AND ONLY SPEAKING SPANISH. Ah, life is good.

Week 8, Dig 3: Pinilla del Valle (Rascafria7/Pinilla del Valle, Castilla y Leon Spain... 1.5 hrs north of Madrid)

Day 2. Arrived yesterday and today we began the excavation. Working in El Camino, a hyena den just FILLED with tons of faunal bones. It's great! Bones bones bones. All Spaniards mainly from Madrid and the only english I speak is with Rolf. Best part, I DIDN´T HAVE TO PAY FOR ANYTHING.

Bad part... the food is sooooooo good... I think I'm gaining back all the weight I lost the past 7 weeks, all in 2 days. The food is unbelievable. We're staying at a youth hostel in the middle of a natural park located in a valley of beautiful mountains. It is freezing in the morning and the evening and is absolutely beautiful. Not as Alpine/Pocono-ish as La Balma, but more like... south Jersey or Minnesota. Really great! Not so much in the middle of no where as the other 2 digs (internet and phone coverage!) but we are situated 15 mins out of the nearest town (Rascafria) but right across a 5-star Monestary-turned-hotel. It really is beautiful, and as soon as I get a new working camera, I will send pictures. (Camera #2 fell in the river, cheap camera # 3 does not work.)

Right, back to the bad part... the food... the hostel chef cooks up a CRAZY storm of 5-star quality food. 3 courses and ALL THE SANGRIA I WANT. Oh that stuff is lethal. Today we had caviar and bocadillos of smoked fish for appetizers, and perfect steak and frites for second dish, and PERFECTLY MADE FLAN for dessert. Lunch was also a 2-hour feast. Yesterday, was also ridiculously good. Rolf tells me it will be like this every day. This weekend, I plan to head down to Madrid, meet up with a couple of friends and borrow running shoes because there is no way I am going to lose any weight if this keeps up. IT'S ONLY DAY 2!!!

Right, so that's about the gist of me and where I am and where I've been the past few days.

PS- Mahou beer sponsors the Pinilla excavation. In our shed, there is a WALL OF BEER AND SHANDY. 8-feet high from edge to edge. LETHAL.

Right, well that''s about the gist of it. I sort of miss you guys, but not really. Haha, I kid. I do miss you all but I am having such an experience here in Spain that time flies by so quickly. I will be seeing you (hopefully) in a month, and for most of you, I would love to hear updates of what is going on. Seriously, I have nothing to do but walk around after dinner or sit in my 2-bed private room alone trying to get through Dan Brown´s Deception Point (the book is ABOMINABLE!). Please, do go on and fill me in with lovely updates of your lives and I hope to hear from you soon!

NOTE: the best way to reach me at the moment would be either a text message or an email here to my GMAIL account since Facebook/MySpace/Friendster etc are all banned on the computers here in our lab in Pinilla. So if you sent me a facebook message recently (considering I haven't checked in a while, I think there have been quite a few), I won't be able to check them until I (a) go to Madrid for a day trip, or (2) return to NY in one month.

A little bit more of an update... one week in the new excavation:

As with other sites, with money come lots of publicity. Bueno, yesterday on the site I work on now (Pinilla del Valle) was a huge day of publicity. Tons of folks visited with cameras, questions and all. Some made it on the television news (my sector, El Camino, received a lot of attention since it produced 2 neanderthal teeth that appears to be the oldest homonin remains in the state of Madrid). I, as usual, made it on the newspaper! Well, that is, my back did anyway. So here are some of the news clips that talk about my site. Some are decent, some are outright ridiculous, but hey, that's what you get with sites that are alloted a huge amount of money.

http://www.elpais.com/articulo/madrid/anos/misma/prehistoria/elpepuespmad/20070822elpmad_4/Tes

No pictures online but we had a double-page spread in print! Have a copy with me.

http://www.abc.es/20070822/cultura-arqueologia/primer-madrileno-devorado-hienas_200708220257.html

My back is actually in the picture!!!

http://www.madridiario.es/2007/Agosto/municipio/pinillavalle/33392/pinilla-valle-excavaciones-yacimientos-neandertales-arsuaga.html

El Sondeo sector of NavalMaillo with Marisol, Ignaci, y Carmen (who last year excavated in both Catalan digs I was in before Pinilla). Small frickin world.

NavalMaillo, larger view. Only one of the 3 caves with human occupation levels producing lithics and faunal remains.

Los jefes. Alfredo, the geologist...who loves 50s rock&roll, some famous delegate of Madrid, the lady who feeds us amazing lunch every day in her restaurant, some other well-off richie of Madrid, Juan Luis Arsuega- the jefe of jefes of Atapuerca and paleontologist of Pinilla, and Enrique Badequano- the archaeologist who is super awesome and dances to all types of music we put on in El Camino.

Arriba del la Cueva de Buena Pinta (translates to the Cave of Good Looks/Good Looking Cave) because it looks so good. Another carnivore den. It is pretty cool.

Cova de Buena Pinta with the total station. This is why it looks so good. It has a large hole in it! lol.

Sarah y yo excavating our little awkward corners in El Camino - a hyena den FILLED WITH FAUNAL BONES AND NO LITHICS!!!

ah... no lithics... que bueno!

Nohemi and Ana, the cool hot Biologas of El Camino. Super awesome people!

And so that´s it for now. Still alive and doing well. Be back in a month!

Day 3-5: Lisbon in pictures

Day 3: Lisbon. Trying hard to look on the bright side of life.

mi portugese is SUPREMELY nonexistent. though i can read and understand.

my bag. still lost.

Lisbon. BEAUTIFUL.

my hostel. AWESOME.

my hostel owner...effing hot. AND...wait for it... NOT older than 30. lol. You can now breathe a sigh of relief (Candice, Christina, Basilly, etc.)



So Iºm just praying and looking at the bright side. That I didnºt have to lug around a 16kilo bag.
Now I know iºm a minimalist when it comes to travel packing, but jeez. Some ammenities are just necessary. ie. flip flops.


Ah well, will drown my sorrows away with Port wine on the sandy beaches tomorrow under the wonderful hot 85degree sun.

wish me luck.



...if i can take home Joe, the hostel owner, i would.

day 1- Madrid: let the misadventures begin

a) flight 2 hrs delayed from departure due to FREAK LIGHTNING STORM in NY that lasted...oh...since we were taxiing to depart till oh...2 hours after on the runway.

b) arrived in london 3 hrs late thus missing flight switch. but was quickly given new flight.

c) arrive in madrid 5 hours late. bags took 2 hours to unload... and LO AND BEHOLD, my ONE AND ONLY BACKPACK gets lost. (british airways... i chose you for reliability. b*tch failed me!)

d) stood in line for AMEX cash exchange. annoying americans before me took a good HOUR to cambiar la moneda. no clue why. it only should take 5 mins. ugh thus was stuck in AIRPORT till 8pm. no clothes. no ammenities. just me, myself, and my TATE MODERN tarp little bag and hostel accomodations. thank goodness i´d decided to take my eurail pass with me.



ahh well, as Shakespeare would teach us, All´s well that ends well.

Was able to see AARON HEREDIA. Didnt get to do much. >Hostel was okay, no bed bugs, thank goodness. Now just wishing my bag would arrive. I pray I pray it does!

More later. Now walking around madrid for a bit before heading up to Madrid Chamartin station to take overnight HOTEL TRAIN to Lisbon, Portugal.



PS - mi espanol es MERDE. *sigh*

madrid-lisbon-lagos-seville-lleida

The housing situation:

22 Jun 2007
Huespedes Amanda 2
c/ Colmenares 5, 2 iza
Madrid

23 Jun 2007
Hotel Train, overnight
Madrid-Lisbon

24-25 Jun 2007
Goodnight Backpackers Hostel
Rua dos Correeiros 113, 2?
Lisbon

26-28 Jun 2007
Carlos House
Rua Jogo da Bola 8
Lagos

29-30 Jun 2007
Seville Backpackers
Santas Patronas, 31
Seville

1-28 July 2007
La Cova Gran Archaeological Excavation
outside Lleida

summer 2007

Thus begin preparations for summer of 2007. Two excavations and 3 different trips. This should be one interesting summer... Just wish I had a bit more time to plan things out without having 2 deadlines right on me. So here goes the itinerary for my fams:

Jun
21, 8pm - Flight JFK->Madrid Atocha (arrive Jun 22, 12:59pm)
22-23 Madrid
23-24 overnight Hotel Train Madrid-Lisbon,Portugal (arr 8am)
24-25 Lisbon, Portugal
26-28 Sagres/Lagos/Faro, Portugal
29 bus Lagos/Faro-Seville, Madrid
29-30 Seville, Madrid

July 1-28 Lleida, Spain
La Cova Gran Archaeological Excavation
Lleida, Spain
Pre-pyrenees, northwest of Barcelona

July
29 Algeciras, spain
30-31 Tangier, Morocco

August
1-2 Casablanca, Morocco
3-5 Marrakech, Morocco
5-7 Fez, Morocco
8-9 Tangier, Morocco
10-14 Somewhere in southern Spain???

August 15-Sept 15
Perilla del Valle Archaeological Excavation
Madrid, Spain (just north of Madrid)

Sept
16-17 Bilbao
17-18 San Sebastiano
19-20 Barcelona

Sept 20 - Flight Barcelona-JFK (arrive in the afternoon)



Will update on living arrangements, digs, pics, etc. etc.