Bloody Brilliant!

France through the eyes of a pillion

Just got back from a bit of an adventurous trip:  touring France on the back of a motorbike.  Peter and I had a great time (France is never boring), and I even managed to gain some key insights while I was there:

1.  More than 200k will make your butt feel like chopped liver.  Don't ever plan to drive more than that in a day.  My horrible planning skills (I planned, Peter drove) had us doing 550k on one particularly grueling day - which is a great way to guarantee a numb bum for hours.

 

2.  Leathers are safe, but SO SO SO SO HOT.  We seemed to forget that Southern France is sweltering right now, and no matter how fast we went on the bike, we still felt like we were being baked alive.  So much for trying to protect our skin in case we fell off; our skin was melting off of our bodies anyway.

3.  Almost nothing feels as good as driving past traffic jams just because you can.  One of the BEST things about the bike is the ability to filter through traffic, and there was a lot of it.  I could just hear the people swearing at us as we zipped by.  Jealous. 

4.  The French love a good motorbike.  They are really polite on the road (those stuck in traffic jams, above, notwithstanding) and let you park your motorbike anywhere.  Even Peter, an Englishman raised with the national 'I hate the French' gene, has a lot of respect for their skills on the road.  Me? I just love their food.

Missive from Madrid

One of the best things about living in London is being thisclose to Europe. Growing up in America, I never hopped over to the Continent for a day trip and still find it weird to think I can do it now.

And so it was that I jumped at the opportunity to join Peter (who was there for business) for a night in Madrid. Despite having lived in France for a few months in college a bazillion years ago, I never visited Spain. This was a good opportunity to broaden my horizons and break in my new passport. 

I spent the afternoon on my own, walking from the hotel down to the Prado in what I thought would be a nice walk but turned out to be over 3 miles.  I clearly can't read a map. 

 

The Museo del Prado was incredible. Incredibly confusing to navigate, as I kept getting lost among the million dead ends, but the art is breathtaking.  Goya, Velazquez, Bosch, Ribera and Rubens, just to name a few.  After doing my cultural duty there, I wandered off towards the Plaza Mayor where I heard these street musicians:

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...and saw this funny bit of performance art:

By then I was too exhausted to move a muscle so Peter and I grabbed an awesome steak dinner, where they bring out slabs of raw meat which we cooked on a super-hot stone that was plopped in the middle of the table.  The one thing I can't get over is the fact that people still smoke in restaurants.  It's been a long time since I've been around the gagging stench of cigarette smoke while I'm mid-bite and I was surprised that Spain doesn't have the smoking ban in force. 

The next day we popped into the Museo Reina Sofia to gape at Guernica and drool over some Dalis (dribbling over invaluable surrealist art won't win you any points with the museum guards, I've discovered).  Then, because you can never be at the airport too early (according to my obsessively 'punctual' husband), we left to fly home. 

I really liked Madrid, although I don't like the feeling of not understanding the native language.  And Spanish isn't that hard to figure out, but I still felt at a distinct disadvantage - especially because it didn't seem like that many people spoke English. What I love are the wrought iron balconies on every building - they are so charming and to me, so quintessentially European. 

Next stop: Barcelona. 

Click here for more Madrid pix. 

ode to tryptophan

This is the day I get the most homesick, because Thanksgiving is one of my favourite holidays.   It was always a fun (short) week at work because everyone was laid back and thinking about the long 4-day weekend and how they were going to spend the time. 

When I lived in New York, I would load up my two cats, grab my friend Alyson (whose family lived near mine) and hop the New Jersey Transit train home (of course, 'hop' is a euphemism for 'battled the heaving masses at Penn Station').  My parents made the best meals, my sister made some awesome desserts and I was the expert dishwasher (and still am, much to my chagrin).  My brothers ... did absolutely nothing, as I recall.  No surprise there.

Hope everyone has a great Thanksgiving, no matter where they are. 

 

image courtesy of humormatters.com

gasping for air

I couldn't figure out at first what parking rules had to do with kids on the run... and then the lightbulb popped on.  Thought this was a funny San Fran street sign.

We were up on Telegraph Hill, looking at the cool murals in Coit Tower.  This guy's face just has so much to say (perhaps he is thinking about ways to prevent runaway cars). 

San Francisco is really such a gorgeous place, despite the fact that it is not for the unfit (i.e., me). You can spot a tourist a mile away because they are the ones wheezing, doubled over in pain at having to climb the steepest hills ever. These steps up to Coit Tower almost killed me:

The view, however, was worth it.

animal welfare only goes so far

A million years ago, I visited my friend Paul in San Francisco and ever the host, he took me out to a great lunch at Sam's in Tiburon.  I was enjoying a yummy lunch in the sun when - rather unceremoniously - a seagull swooped in and picked my sandwich right off my plate.  The waiter warned me of the 'aggressive birds', but I clearly didn't pay attention.  Ah well, lesson learned.

Peter and I passed through SF earlier this week and had lunch with Paul.  We thought it would be great to show Peter the views of SF from Sam's, so we revisited the scene of the crime and would you believe, the bastards did it again.  I was enjoying quite a good ahi tuna sandwich on delicious sourdough bread when out of nowhere I felt a rush of wind on my head and in one blink I saw the sandwich in my hand disappear.  I never even saw the bird. 

Bastards. Flying rats, they are, and quite well fed too.

califor ni a

We are headed up the Pacific Coast Highway today, on our way to Pebble Beach.  Am very excited to see the surf.  The bummer of it is I am nursing a severely damaged toe (smashed into the leg of the coffee table), which I hope will not compromise my superior driving skills. 

We've had a great time with Heather and her gorgeous family.  They have been the hosts with unquestionably the most. Including, of course, Earl!

hitting the city streets

It's Easter weekend and I am enjoying the first lazy day I've had in a while.  I have been a crappy blogger of late because I've been out and about, enjoying my new life in London.  Peter and I moved in about a month ago, and while both of us are familiar with the city (he more than me, of course), neither of us has ever lived in it before. 

I've always loved the process of discovering a new neighbourhood - the pubs, the grocery stores, the drycleaner, the drugstore, the pubs, and the pubs.  And let us not forget the pubs.  One of our favourites is The Blue Lion, just up the street, and another is The King's Arms, just around the corner, which does a mean Thai dinner. [I still don't understand why many pubs serve Thai food - what is the connection???]

Our area is a bit tricky, as it tends to shut down on the weekends (hey, New York this ain't), but we are making a go of it.  Tonight we found a great little place that is back a little alleyway off of the main drag.  It's the kind of place you can only find in an English town, because the roads are not grids but random, haphazard configurations that hide all sorts of pockets like this one. 

Tomorrow we are off to Brighton, a seaside town I have never been to but which everyone recommends.  Hope the Easter Bunny treats you well....

where shall we go?

It's pouring rain and I am desperate to get away this weekend.  We can only do a quick overnight somewhere in the UK; does anyone have any suggestions about destinations/hotels that could be fun? 

you're a smart bunch, you are

I know you've been up all night wondering just what that funky photo is that I posted yesterday.  Well fret no more,for here is your answer:  it's a closeup of the exterior of the Sydney Opera House. 

Now you know (and based on your comments, it seems a lot of you knew already).

But enough about the outside of this world-famous landmark.  I found something much more interesting inside. 

This is the sink in the bathroom - just one long slab of molded fake ceramic with no drain.  It's a bit disconcerting to use because I felt like I was spilling water everywhere.  It took me a while [I'm thick, I know] to figure out exactly what was missing.  You can imagine how idiotic I looked, crouching down underneath the sink to see where the water went.  Good thing it was a slow day at the Opera and I didn't get caught inspecing the plumbing. 

the suspense is killing you, I'm sure...

Can you guess what this is? 

I'll tell you tomorrow, as I'm getting booted off the computer in the Sydney Hilton business center as we speak...