A Mini on the Move
If you cut and paste the website below, it show you the Picasso painting we viewed. Along with others, of course.
http://www.museoreinasofia.es/en/collection/artwork/guernica
When we arrived in Madrid, we took a taxi to our hotel. Small. Comfy and in the center of town. Then we set out to explore Madrid. Madrid was beautiful. Lots of big, fancy buildings. The one big fancy building we visited was the Museo Sophia as I nicknamed it (Centro de Arte Reina Sofia). It held the famous picture by Picasso that painted for a world fair, Guernica. The famous Guernica. It was painted in response to the Spanish civil war which pitted the democratically elected Spanish government against fascist Franco. Franco, of course, won and ruled Spain for many years with an iron fist and that is when Picasso named the NY Museum of Modern Art as its (the painting) depository. It wasn’t until after Franco died, that the picture was sent to Spain (it had never been in Spain before). That was 1975. Quite a fabulous picture to view. It was huge and done in black and white and grays.
We then moseyed around the building and it houses some articles that I wouldn’t even hang in my house.. Head scratching stuff. Didn’t even seem like art. Way too avant guard for my taste. Example. A big pile of papers that looked like giant paper from an adding machine (remember those), all bunched up and just sitting on the bare floor. Hell, I could do that and I wouldn’t. It was Monday and on Mondays, seniors are free. So that was a plus!!
In Spain if you don’t know where you are going, you are screwed. At least that much is true if on foot. Like France, names of streets are sometimes written on sides of buildings. There are no “signs” like, say, street signs. And not all streets possess these high-up unpretentious markings. Because of this, I am pretty sure we walked about 3 extra miles to find our hotel after visiting the art museum and taking an on-off bus tour of the city. Finally, we gave up and asked a policia. He waved his arms, pointing and gesturing. We got the drift and finally made our way back. A good reason to take a tour. At least you will get where you are going.
Another thing we did was eat dinner. At 10 p.m. The restaurant next to the hotel we were staying at was dead quiet. One other couple in the place. A few people outside. Then as if the dam broke, a huge group of people appeared seemingly all the once. Tapas also materialized from the kitchen. Wine was opened. A party commenced. The waiter was hard to understand but we think this was a typical Monday after the theatre let out? Who knows? These Spaniards are an interesting lot. We paid the bill and went to our hotel and there were scant people left to wade through. Speed partying, I will call it.
This morning we took a taxi to the car rental place. We got our car, a Mini Cooper, and blazed. Driving was much easier than walking. I drove. Rayman read the map. Good strategy. The roads of Spain are great. Bridges are interesting, roadways are without potholes, ruts etc. Toll roads are present. We even got on one without knowing it. Had to fork over $5 euro to get off. Took a very, very long tunnel through a mountain. It just went on and on. As tunnels goes, this was the creme de la creme. No litter. Well lit.
We drove directly to the parador, an old beautiful building that had been completely refurbished. Think it was a religious retreat kind of place in it’s previous life. And it was a miracle that we did not make one wrong turn to get there. Like we knew what we were doing.
http://http://www.paradores-spain.com/spain/ppics/segovia/gallery.html
It is now 8:30 p.m. and I just woke up from a long winter’s nap. Laid down about 5 p.m. and just woke up. Does hit the wall mean anything to you? Really, people, it must have been that drive from Madrid to Segovia in our mini cooper that did it. Yes, we got a mini by pure serendipiity. Zoom, zoom.
One post script, as it were. It seems the people of Barcelona want to succeed from the country. They are the catalayians. Spelling is suspect. They have their own flag, even. And as it turns out, it is all about taxes. The people that want to break off are tired of paying taxes to support the rest of the country. Uhmmmmm. Perhaps California has something in common with these folks. I don’t like that we have to send our money to Washington so it can be sent to Alabama, Mississippi, etc. We might consider breaking away too. I mean, if they pull this off, it will be interesting. And even if they don’t, it will be interesting. Of course, this has something to do, I suspect, with people just being tired of the state of the world. The game is rigged. The rich have all the money and they are not supporting their governments anymore. Tired of paying high taxes in CA? Move to TX. So, look for more of this to happen. The masses may yet rise up.
But I digress. I mean, I really, really digress.
On cheerier note, the weather is mild here in Segovia. We are up at about 2500 feet now. There are snow capped mountains to our north. It’s 9 p.m. and the sun is still shining. Guess I’ll get dressed and go down to dinner now. Funny how we’ve adapted to eating later. It doesn’t seem so far fetched here at all. At home, I’d be settling in for the night. A show or two on TV and on to bed. There’s not much on TV here. It’s all in Spanish except for the Business channel (see what I mean, people) and food beckons.
It is 11:30 and we’re back. Quite a formal dinner tonight. Like the tapas lifestyle much more. But dinner was good. I ate it all. Rayman left a bite of pork on his plate. Mucho gusto. My salad.
It turns out Segovia is a city with a Roman aqueduct and a bunch of pieces of Saint James (he had been dismembered) buried here as well. Gruesome story but a lot of European history is gruesome. As is our own. But I refuse to go there. it is too late. I might have bad dreams. More tomorrow. Below is a picture I snapped of the aqueduct.
Traveling the Rails and Travails
After flitting all over Barcelona, it was time to hit the trail. We had booked the high speed train from Barcelona to Madrid, the capital of Espana. Having taken the high speed TGV trains in France, we could not resist the thrill of the ride again.
Really, people. What is all the fuss about in CA re: the high speed train. It is the only way to go. Our trip averaged about 300km and that is fast. No time at all to get from say, LA to SF if we had this service. And all other modern countries have them. And Europe is comprised of different countries and yet they still figure out a way politically to provide this service to their citizens. The farmers in the dell (read San Joaquin valley) are doing everything they can to stop this form of modernity. Heck they have horses to ride. Who needs high speed rail?
But I digress.
So, no sooner had we embarked on our train trip then my eyes closed and I slept through most of the trip. Tried as I might, I could not stay awake. It was disappointing. But in my defense, Ali and Bernat kept us going at a wild pace (probably just regular pace by their standards). And we were up late, late, late at night. And the apartment we rented was located on a narrow street populated by brick buildings about 5 stories high with cobblestone streets. On the first floor, there were commercial establishments including bars and restaurants. So, all night long…noisy revelers reveled. And we took to tossing and turning in our bed. So, that train just lulled me to sleep like a baby. It was a good, delicious sleep. But by all accounts from the Rayman, I missed some beautiful countryside. When you leave the city, the landscape emerges and it has a similar look to CA. Except the trees are different. Not so many oaks. Or conifers. Lots of rolling hills. Mountains are to the north and we did glimpse snow in the distance.
The trip took a couple of hours. I think.
I guess I’m getting old because I find much more enjoyment in the countryside. The cities are teeming. But it is harder to connect with people. Thank goodness for Ali and Bernat. I told them they should start a tourism company. They gave us an excellent tour. Fun. Interesting. Delicious. We never would have seen or done half the things we did were it not for them. In fact, we would never have found that apartment. We’d still be looking for it. And the most wonderful of all is that Bernat grew up in Barcelona and Ali is a history teacher, so we got a lot of information that is not in a guide book. Bueno. Muy bueno.
Really, if it hadn’t have been for that good looking son of a bitch that ripped us off, it would have been perfect.
Ripped Off
OMG. The next thing I knew, Xavier, the owner of the flat we were renting, was called by his wife because I called her to tell her we were running late. Then I called her back reporting the theft. The Xavier found me. But by that time, the woman, a muslim, called the police for us. At this point, we(Xavier) left Rayman to wait for the police and Xavier and I went to the apartment to drop off our stuff (what was remaining). Then Xavier informed me that Rayman had been carted off by police to the police department to file a report. So Xavier showed me the apartment and how everything worked, then he walked me to the police station. There we waited for the Rayman who eventually escaped from the bowels of the building to say, “I told the interrogator that I was likely the only one to see the inside of a police station re: this matter.”
And with that we withdrew 340 euros and paid Xavier as we cried crocodile tears and he bid us a fond adieu and we went our separate ways with me proclaiming my ability to find the apartment.
So, we couldn’t find, let me rephrase that, I couldn’t find the apartment. Xavier had marked up a very rudimentary map. It would be like having a map of San Luis Obispo with only Foothill, Higuera, and maybe Marsh Streets actually named on the map. And the street was off Garden. Impossible. So, we spend the next two hours walking all around the area I was just sure was the area. I called Xavier’s wife and announced we were lost…and she said, “What? Again?” This was very unhelpful because we were really lost, it was getting dark. We were hungry. And did I mention the Rayman’s mental state? He was beside himself. And the more we didn’t find it, well, the more upset him became. He finally threatened to check into the Hyatt near by if we didn’t find the place in the next 45 minutes. OMG. What were we thinking? “Didn’t you remember any landmarks?”, he barked. “No. I was traumatized just like you.”, I whined. It wasn’t pretty. At one point I told him to shut the f*%#..up.
I’m not even sure how it happened but I think I called Ali, my cousin’s daughter who is in Barcelona teaching school. I gave her the address info I had. She told us to go to a certain subway station and stay put. She was on her way. She thought she knew where our apartment was located. At this point, Rayman and I felt ancient, old, feeble, helpless, frustrated…all at the same time.
Ali arrived about 15 minutes later and led us to the door of our building in about 2 minutes. The street was misspelled. And the streets change names. And some of the streets are not clearly marked. And boy, did I feel stupid. And grateful to Ali. She sensed our desperation and frustration and immediately ran down to a market and bought a bottle of vino rouge and we downed it in about 20 minutes. But who’s counting.
It was then that we met her beau, Bernat, a Spaniard who is the sweetest guy in the world. And the four of us went out to dinner. Sitting outside munching on lightly fried eggplant doused in honey, sliders, beans, asparagus and calamari, with catalan bread we polished off more wine (2 more bottles and an after dinner herbal alcohol drink) an creme brûlée, we finished up about mid-night. Here’s picture of brulee 
At 2 a.m. I went to bed. It took time to figure out a way to save our digital privacy from the robber. We are bit worried about that (read freaked out). I also expanded my data usage for overseas and that took an hour. AT 4:15 woke up worried as can be. Fiddled around a bit more, took a “relaxation” pill that Rayman bought along with many of the drugs that went missing. In the states all these drugs are prescription. Here you just go to the pharmacia and they sell them to you without a prescription.
Woke up this a.m. (Sunday) around 9. Didn’t move all night. Tired beyond belief. Then it was jump in the shower, throw on the clothes and hit the subway. We were meeting Ali and Bernat for another day of seeing the sights. Today it was all Gaudi. We are top of the roof of an apartment that he designed. This is one of the chimneys.
We just parted company with Ali and Bernat. We will meet up later. Need to sit down and be quiet. Nap perhaps. Then it is off to eat. Love, love, the food.
And Rayman. Is is handling all this pretty well. I’m going to buy a paper to see if there are any lost and founds tomorrow and we’ll stop by the policia to see if anything was turned in. But, realistically, color it all gone.
Last night we ate a family style restaurant. Yummy. Grilled calamari in squid ink with asparagus, lamb and potatoes, Spanish tortilla topped with egg and foie gras and shrimp pasta washed down with 2 bottles of wine and a piece of chocolate cake (split 4 ways). Done to perfection.
Here’s Rayman at the Gaudi park. Looking out toward Barcelona. Notice the mosaic and the gingerbread looking Gaudi building across the way.
That’s all for now. Too tired to write and fight the software!!Terminal Woes
Terminal Two at LAX needs my help. And I’m not even that qualified, but I am confident I could help. The problem? There are about 4 charging places in the whole terminal (excuse me) inside the ropes. Past the security where all ticketed travelers go to be bored to death. There is one duty free shop which has basically perfume, liquor and cigarettes for sale. Need a comb? Forgetaboutit. Need a toothbrush. You won’t find one. Need a stupid little bear that has a t-shirt that says “I luv LA”. No problem. Really people, who goes to the airport to buy perfume? Apparently the answer is plenty or these shops would not exist. Just not helpful to my way of thinking.
But back to the charging stations. Great to be able to charge your phones…, all 16 of you. And the rest of you? You’re screwed. Want to plug in your computer while you work? Forget that idea. Is not gonna happen at this terminal.
And what’s with the grey walls? Had a sale at Home Depot? Vibrant L.A. has grey walls everywhere. The only bright spot is the Wolfgang Puck restaurant. It’s walls pop with color. And that’s where we stopped in for a margarita pizza. Yummy. And colorful.
So, my plan would be to wire the place for the 21st century. Install workstations with desk and chairs. Install electrical outlets on the floor next to seating so that people can plug in while moving on. Open a drugstore with lots of travel items people might likely forget. And drugs. Advil, Aleve, ear plugs, fingernail files, clippers, cozy socks, mints, mouth products, eye glass cleaner aids, M&M’s, the peanuts variety. Portable hair dryers, You get the drift.
Maybe add a shoe store and accessories like scarves. They are all the rage today. Scarves for men and women. And have a barbershop/hair salon with manicurists that can fix those faux fingernails. Massage would be nice too. Really, people. Many people spend half the day in a place like this. Give them something to do that also parts them with their money. It’s American way after all. How about a movie theatre? Have 5 hours to kill? Go in and catch a movie. It could be a travel log. Quaint, eh? Anything of general interest. The new Cosmos program. Have programs that do suffer if people wander in at all times.
How about an ice cream store or a soda shop!! Everyone loves ice cream. With a candy counter. That would be perfect.
How about a romper room for the kiddies? Those poor children. Bored as can be with nothing for them to do. What were the airport people thinking? Do like Apple stores do. Have some computers on small tables with small chairs (bolted down!!) A movie room with cartoons would be nice. Charge admission by the half hour. Parents would appreciate it.
I was going to say that many European airports are light years ahead of us until we landed at Heathrow. Heathrow, not so much. At least in the international terminal. We spent most of our time at Heathrow this p.m. walking from point A to point B and standing in line to get through customs. Now there is a process ripe for improving. What does everyone do while in line? Look at the agents working. Wouldn’t it be great if the customs area had monitors with travel logs of the country running. At least you might learn something. They could be captioned so interested people could read about it. Oops. That wouldn’t work. Too many languages. Okay. Just pictures with the official name of the spot. Followed by a map. Matching maps could be available for the taking so if someone wanted to go to the highlighted place, they’d have a map to show the way. Just saying.
Our ride on Virgin Atlantic was uneventful. Plenty to do. Food was okay. Plenty to drink. Plenty of people coughing and blowing their noses (an unhappy occurrence). At the end of the flight we were not allowed to deplane because someone in “Upper Class” had a issue and the police were summoned and we all had to stay on board until the police “concluded their investigation.” Pretty funny, really. Did jewelry go missing? That’s what we think happened. In UPPER CLASS. Too funny. Lift up and away while lifting something off at the same time. And the perps were the people that had enough whatever to quality to sit in the exclusive bedroom community of upper class. Really, they had reclining beds. What a hoot.
No problems in steerage. What is this world coming to?
So, here we are in London, sort of. Across the road the Heathrow catching up on our sleep so we can get up fresh in the morning and head to Heathrow to catch our plane to Spain. Anticipation building. Night night.
P.S. After sleeping for hours and hours, we are now at Heathrow, Terminal 5. What do the plebs do? Harrods, Gucci, Prada…you name it. This is a fabulous terminal but I can’t afford to buy anything. Shoes, coats, purses, purses, purses. Our flight is delayed but I’m cool because there is so much to do and see here. What the heck is wrong with LAX? Good grief. So, will post this blog because Heathrow has 45 free minutes of wifi. Yippee.
The Taxman Cometh….Not
Before I go off to get dinner ready, I must record our crazy day. The picture above was snapped last weekend in Yosemite and has no bearing whatsoever to the events described below. Just wanted to share Yosemite Falls and Rayman with you all.
Yesterday was April 15th. Besides being my “adopted” granddaughter’s birthday (she is now 2), it is known in the U.S. as tax day. Or the day the chickens come home to roost. So, this a.m. I got up and looked for an email from Turbo Tax informing me that our tax return had been sent. I know you know where this is headed. Turbo Tax did not file our return. OMG. How could that be? Rayman and I readied our taxes in March and made arrangements for them to sent on 4/15 because WE OWED. When I casually mentioned that we had not received a confirmation from Turbo Tax to the Rayman, well, at this point you may guess the answer from the choices below. 1. Rayman said, “Oh, gee. What a bummer.” 2. Rayman said, “Whatever could have gone wrong?” 3. Rayman said, “Don’t tell me that. Our taxes are late. Are you kidding me? AAAAWWWWWWWWWWW. 4. Rayman said, “Now that they are late, let’s just not pay them and see what happens.” Answer is posted at the end of this blog.
So, as the Rayman came unglued, I tried my best to find out what had gone wrong. All the payment info was there…that is, our routing number etc. for our checking account. Yet when I queried their system, I could not verify payment.
After the dust settled, it was determined that the taxes had not been filed. Nor paid. Holy macaroni. Calls were made, swords were fallen on. Bottom line, we paid and filed today and will wait to see if we get fined. And we can ask for a waiver of any fine. OMG.
Next up, we had an appointment at the Apple store because our calendars (which are all suppose to match)…didn’t match. The Cloud is failing us. It must be them, not us. We’re perfect. See above to know that’s not true.
But I digress.
We hopped in the car and dashed to San Luis for our genius appointment. The plan was that we would then go to the RV storage lot to do some work on TDH. Actually, the top item on the list of things to do for the day was to go to the RV. I squeezed in the appointment at the Apple store since we were in San Luis anyway. Okay. So, Napoleon (that was the genius’s name) fixed our calendars and didn’t really tell us how Rayman’s phone calendar did not match his iPad or my MacBook or my phone. And my phone didn’t match my computer. Etc, etc, etc. But they are all matching at the moment. If something goes wacky again, the Genius Bar will be visited because we did not learn what to do. It is troublesome because we can’t afford to have our calendars missing information. If we miss an appointment, people will think we’re too old to remember. That may be true but that’s beside the point.
When we arrived at the Apple store, we got a great parking place. Nice and shady. What we didn’t know is that a bird call was sent out to all birds in the neighborhood to come and perch in the tree that was shading our car so that they could have a pooping party. What a mess we found when we returned 15 minutes later. So at this point, we drove the pooped-on car to the RV storage lot. I got out to punch in the code of the gate and told Rayman I would walk to TDH. When I got there, he was still in the car and he opened the window and said, “Get in. We’re going.” I said, “What?“ He said, “I forgot the keys to the coach.” OMG. I got in the car and we went shopping. Shopping was not planned but shopping happened. Chocolate at Trader Joe’s, Gravity Zero recliners for TDH, in red. Dates, nuts, and asparagus. It is amazing we could even see anything in the store because we kept shaking our heads in disbelief of the morning’s activities or lack thereof. What a hoot.
So, perhaps we will try again tomorrow.
We are having a few friends over for dinner tonight. I’m doing my famous fish tacos. The halibut is marinating, the black bean and corn salad is made (although I had a heck of a time figuring out my new manual can opener. It took about 10 minutes to crack the code) While I was struggling with the can opener, Rayman went to the car wash to get all the bird poop off Priscilla the Prius. When he returned he announced that he had gotten really upset at the gas station at someone that aced him out of a spot and he beeped the horn. He was madder than a wet hen. His day was not going well.
But I digress.
The dessert is bought. Oh, I know, I like to make dessert but with this group coming, I just had to drive with Rayman and Beau to Cambria to the Red Moose cookie company and buy some Naughty Rods for dessert. Fabulous cookies and so fun to serve because of their provocative name. The owner’s of the Red Moose cookie company report that their Naughty Rod cookies get called all kinds of names. People call and ask, “Do you make those Nasty Rods?” or “Do you bake those Dirty Cookies?” etc. The owner reports that they are a big hit for bachelorette parties. People told them that cookie would never sell because of the name. Truth is, they can’t keep up with the demand.
So, now off I go to take my shower.
Answer to quiz. You know the answer!!
Fault Lines
For as long as I’ve been driving highway 101 in California, I’ve seen two signs for Pinnacles National Park. And for all those years, I have never deviated from the path I was on to take a side trip out to that park. It’s an amazing phenomenon, isn’t it? Right in your own back yard for your whole life, and you never take the time, plan the time to diverge. It would be like living in New York and never visiting Niagara Falls. Okay, maybe that’s a stretch. I hear those falls are so spectacular, I’m sure no one in New York has not seen them except perhaps the intercity youth because their family doesn’t own a car.
But I digress.
And so it was that we planned a trip to Pinnacles. And along with all the stuff that was crammed into the motorhome, there were ideas of what Pinnacles must be like crammed into my head. Dusty, white, barren are three words that come to mind. And boy was I wrong.
Pinnacles is located off 101 and there are two ways to get there. One way and the way we took was through King City at the base of the Salinas Valley. The other way is to go north from King City to Soledad, the city best known for the state prison that is there. If you have an RV and you want to camp, your only choice is through King City. Actually, if you are coming from the north, you get through the city of Hollister. Look for Highway 25 and take it. But if you take the route we took, as soon as you embark, you start climbing. The park is actually about 1000 feet above sea level and in the spring it is green. Flowers are blooming and the trees are leafed out. Lots of oaks and conifers. Also, lots of birds. The famous condors reside here. Have yet to see one. The only thing I have seen is a lot of turkey vultures and a helicopter. Oh, there are tweety birds but I don’t know enough to identify any of them.
I would avoid the place past May and and reconsider a visit in late September on. But expect it to be golden. Those green grasses dry to a golden color until the rains which generally start in late November.
One of the main draws here are the hiking trails. And the Pinnacle rock formations are cool. So, we took it upon ourselves to hike this morning. The cave route was our chosen hike. It was short but steep. And once we got to the “caves” it became amazing. Here are some pictures I snapped. And, yes, there is a reservoir here. Great place to stop for a drink of water and a snack.
So, as we were scrambling over and under the boulders that seemed to be tossed into place, it occurred to us that we were on the San Andreas fault. OMG. What if there was an earthquake? We imagined what would happen. First and foremost, we would be squished like bugs. This would include our iPhones which were only good for picture taking and the flashlight app. No signals here. But the phone still tells the time and date. How does that work?
But back to imagining a world without US.
Uncle Ralph is expecting us on Friday (today is Wednesday). He would start calling. Having heard there was a major quake in the area, he would be very concerned. “Where the hell are they? Why aren’t they answering?” We, of course, would be laying under a massive amount of rocks reduced to the width of a paper napkin. We would never return. The RV would be in the park and everyone in the park would wonder what in the world to do with the RV. Rayman thought maybe the rocks would shift just enough for us to get caught like James Franco did in that movie where he had to cut off his arm free himself. Lovely, I replied.
Luckily none of that happened. And it has probably never happened here but that did not dissuade of from conjuring up the worst possible scenarios. But, you know what? I bet everyone let’s these thoughts slip through when they visit here because you realize how really insignificant you really are when you come to a place like this. Between those teutonic plates shifting and past volcanic activity, those immense boulders got tossed up like marbles. Would have been impressive to hear it when it happened.
So, I would recommend all you people out there to get in your car or truck or RV or motorcycle and visit Pinnacles. And don’t wait til you can’t walk. It is an amazing place right here in our own back yard (for those of you that live in central California.) A must-see park that became a park in 1908 when Theodore Roosevelt, our esteemed Republican president, had the foresight and determination to declare million of acres National Parks. Oh, his party was furious with him. All those place that were put off limits from drilling and digging etc. I really admire him for what he did. He went against his own party and did something he believed was right. Oh, those were the days. Of course, the guys in his party pulled their support and he had to run in a 3rd party, the Bull Moose party. That split the vote and Woodrow Wilson won. There may be some similarities then and now…now that I am thinking about it. Heck, if he were alive today, the Koch brothers would be running ads accusing him of being an imperial president. They would be backing some Tea Party type that thinks government is bad and worthless. Maybe they would accuse him of having a tryst with Mr. Muir. You just don’t know but it is certain interesting to imagine by overlaying today with yesteryear.
But I digress.
Teddy was quite the outdoorsman and at one point spent several nights under the protection of the Giant Sequoia trees of Yosemite with John Muir. That must have been when he had the epiphany to listen to Muir and preserve this place along with a lot of other places. How cool is that?
Lichen on the rocks.
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