Things I learned to do before I was Thirty

I have recently turned the big 30. Here is a list of things I find fun, funny, or at the very least interesting I have learned since my baby hood.

To shoot a bow and arrow
Make bread
Speak in public
Organize a field trip
Speak other languages
Ride a horse
play backgammon
build websites
Drive a stick shift car
Play guitar and piano
Write an epic poem
Cook Mexican food
To overcome fears
Write a book
Live in another country
Travel efficiently
Enjoy the little things
To kiss
To Dance
To not watch television

What did you learn before you turned 30?

Italian Christmas

Some of our friends here in Barcelona have had the good sense to date Italian men with a penchant for cooking. They graciously invited us to come and spend Christmas with them. It was a two day event in which we went shopping in the open air market and subsequently cooked all of the food. Here is a picture of Sergio, the head cook holding triumphantly his octopus.

We cooked, chopped, fried, basted, salted and sauteed all day. By the time dinner actually rolled around we were all very hungry. Rana and I made 4 liters of sangria which was devoured and the rest of the group brought wine. The first course that came out was a cold vegetable salad.

As we ate that, the fish went into a deep bed of salt. It was completely surround by salt in fact. On top was a little shrimp. We also had a salmon, creme pasta with caviar and a number of other delicacies. It was a lot of fun. Here are some happy customers.

Then as the evening grew later silly began to kick in.

And we ended the evening with a tried and true christmas tradition, the group picture.

Well that's it for the Italian Christmas. It was great fun, and no one needed to eat again for a week!

Barcelona Mugging Failure

So there I was in the middle of Barcelona, slightly inebriated, lost and for lack of a better term, proper fucked. Rana was going out with her friends and decided Devo had had too much to drink to make it to the club. Rana, of course, was right. I stumbled into the subway letting every thief from here to London know I was prime pray with my can't-quite-stand-still gait. I found refuge on the hard plastic seat of the underground and with head in hands, stole occasional upward glances at the lit up little subway map.

Now in a sober moment I would have known that I could transfer in one of the stations and easily make my way to the metro stop right by our house, thus avoiding further danger and exposing my incapacitated form to chicanery. Not the decision I made. So incapacitated was I, that all I could think about was the stop where we boarded the train, a full 15 minute walk from our normal stop.

Emerging from the stuffy relative safety of the subway station, I stupidly trudged onward through the main pickpocket hotbed in town. 3 in the morning was fast approaching and with it went the bussel of tourists and foreign students. The streets were quieter, populated with locals and immigrants. As I neared the street down which I was supposed to walk, a shout rang out in the cool air.

I still have no idea what he said but a moment later I felt a hand on my back. The hand I would later surmise was designed to distract me while the assailant tried to hook my ankle with his foot. What happened next defies logic but what the hell, I'll tell you anyway. I saw or felt the foot coming around my ankle and just kind of powered through it. Instinctively I stiff armed my attacker in the chest at the same time. The combine trip-reversal and the butt of my hand in his chest sent the man reeling backward as I yelled drunkenly, "No me tocas!" which translates to "who's laughing now, bitch?".

I never looked back.

Ten minutes later I arrived at the apartment and managed to get into bed. Meanwhile Rana and her friend had made it to the club and discovered they were charging and exorbitant cover fee. No dice, said the value conscious maidens and made for home where they would presumably be let in by a red-nosed jolly Devo. Not so.

Due to a bit of unfortunateness, our friend who was staying with at us had her bag stolen with our house keys in it the day before so we only had one set of keys, which I alone possessed because I was going home first. They began ringing the buzzer, which in my defense is über quiet, at around 5am. At 5:30 our kind Russian neighbors, who we had only met the day before, heard our buzzer, went out on the balcony, and thankfully let Rana and Basak in. Once they got to our door they were able to wake me up with a clever pounding/ ringing the doorbell ritual they'd worked out. Apparently I answered by buzzing them in the front door, which of course they already were in.

Morals?

Drink moderately, employ the stiffarm, and always have a spare set of keys.

The Impromtu Thief

Tonight as we lay enjoying some sort of ill-begotten tv show or movie, we heard outside in the alley a tumultuous, clang, clang, clang. I sprang the the bed to see what was the matter. There was a dude in the alley who rose such a clatter.

There, standing in front of the gate of next door's shoe shop was a villain. Ok, not a villan but at least a petty thief, one who was apparently not terribly gifted when it came to planning. He had removed the cover of an electrical access panel in the alleyway and was using it to bash at the hardened steel lock which kept closed the gates in front of the shoe shop.

I stepped out on the balcony and saw him bring the awkward metal square down on the lock one last time sending metal shards and glass flying, but the lock held. Disappointed he replaced the cover and quickly walked away disappearing down an alley. Now when I say he was bad at planning, I meant it.

The would-be-thief was wearing bright white pants! Not exactly inconspicuous. I called the girls out on the balcony to see the aftermath of his attack. Just as we were heading back in, he appeared again. This time, presumably, to finish the job. I had my camera but decided since we are on the first floor and in the dead of night, the clicking of the shutter might give me away. Lets be honest, trying to do the right thing is great but if the thug discovered me he would know where I lived. So we, heroically, ducked inside.

The really funny thing is that he was trying to break into Rana's favorite shoe store. They very store where they have a expensive set of boots she wants. She was temped to yell, "steal me the green ones and we won't call the police," but I convinced her otherwise.

Once again, planning, buddy. What are you gonna do steal 100 pairs of shoes and try to hock them on the corner? I think it might arouse a little suspicion when you're caught with Manolos that aren't your size.

First Night in Barcelona and subsequent days

I arrived after a considerably long trip (41 hours), in Barcelona, on Halloween eve. I took the metro and met the lovely Rana and Başak. They took me back to their apartment and we immediately started to brainstorm costumes. This is what we came up with:

Van Dyke and Foo Man Choo went out with Monsieur Devo (french mustache not here pictured) We had a wonderful time trying to remember how to order in spanish all the while sporting sweet mustaches. Rana and Başak had class so I spent the next few days just exploring.

I checked out La Rambla where you can get

your bag stolen for half the price of a normal mugging.

The shoreline where you can take an expensive gondola

over the harbor so you just might find Nemo.

Along the Rambla del Mar. Ohhh pretty boats.

People feeding Seagulls near the Christoper Columbus monument.

My arty shot of the day. A local resturant

with the menu in Catalan.

So far I love it here. The people are wonderful. The food is fantastic (althought I make most of it at home) and the atmosphere is one of life, art and excitement. I would love to stay indefinitely.

The Gorge Reserve

After a whirlwind first 2 weeks in Australia, life slowed to a more manageable level. We ate, we sang, we drank copious amounts of mediocre beer. One weekend Tyler suggested we go visit some wildlife, and so we did.

The Gorge wildlife Reserve is where all Australian animals go to retire. It was a peaceful open zoo set up in the middle of the beautiful Adelaide hills. First thing was first, we went to hold a koala. Wee what fun. It was like having a really furry, stoned little child for 10 seconds. Here Tyler holds the little tyke who couldn't be happier. And here's me (notice the koala is unchanged):

 After that earthshattering koala-holding moment we decided to browse around at the local fauna.

The redish game cock of Northern Checkistan:

The Pygmy Marmoset of somewhere interesting.

Here Pelican!

The koala on his day off.

Blue penguins of outer Mongolia

Steve and Earl

The biggest bats I have ever seen.

They are crazy...like a fox.

Prehistoric Cassowary. Dangerous and sweet looking.

A white peacock in flight.

 

Mom with Roo in pouch. Father looking on in the

background.

A crane.

Dingos. Cage strewn with babies.

Well that's about it for Australia. Tyler and I had a wonderful time in the rest of it but really none of it is fit for the internet. I loved the people, the animals and being so very far away from everything. I did not love the beer or the extreme price of alcohol but what do you do? It was a badass adventure on the sandy island in the southern hemisphere. Thanks Australia. On to Barcelona.

Alice Springs and Ayres Rock: Hot, Dry, Fun

With only week under our collective belt together Tyler and I headed off to Alice Springs to carve some notches into that belt. At the crack of 9am we went to catch a bus to the airport which somehow, even though we were early for it, we missed. What we didn't miss was the best cab driver ever, who picked us up. On the 20 minute drive to the airport he regaled us with information about the moons of Neptune made of liquid methane, pronounced by our cunning chauffeur, Mee-thane with and emphasis on the Mee.

After about an hour in the plane we touched down in the land of the dry ass desert. The internet gods had told us about a lovely hostel just over the Todd River (pictured above) in the middle of Alice Springs. We made our way there and subsequently to the pool were we med the lovely Inga. Tyler correct me if I'm wrong.

She decided to accompany us to the look out over Alice Springs. We'd heard the sunset was glorious and it did not dissapoint.

As the sun fell over the hills we knew that we had to get back as we had an early morning ahead of us. Of cousrse we went to the local watering hole before sleep set in. It was called Bojangles. Here's a giant bear trap.

The next morning started too early for everyone involved. The bus must have picked us up around 5 am or something. I don't remember, everything before noon is really too early. We drove for about 4 hours listening to the light crooning of our aged Australian be-mustached guide nicknamed, Tic.  


When we arrived at the rock he gave us the obligatory 10 minute diatribe on how 42 people have died on the rock and that we might be 43 if we climbed it. Being of the adventurous ilk Tyler and I decided to climb it, at least part way.

We scrambled up a good 60 feet of increasingly sloping red limestone until we got to the aid chain. The chain was sadly only about 2 and a half feet off of the ground so it provided little support for our accent.
Below is the first picture I took from the rock. Off in the distance is another rock formation called the Olgas. Note the desert.

Here's a picture of Tyler descending employing the almost useless chain.



When we came down, unscathed, Tyler and I decided to explore the base which yielded some cool pictures. Here is a good one showing the desolation of the landscape.

Tic took us around the rock explaining the various Aboriginal religious beliefs about the amazingly formed Rock. They call it Ularu which has become the official name in recent years but most Australian in the city still call it Ayers Rock. As with all great adventures we ended this one with champagne. As the sun set over the Australian desert we sipped unmarked bottles with about 50 of our closest friends.

This is what happens when you hand your camera to a tourist. And here be the beast herself, respendant in her earthy rocky late afternoon glory.

The rock changed colors many times before we left but I like this one the most. As fast or faster than we'd come we were cajoled back into the bus for the long ride home. Our beds were kind that night.

Glenelg: Sounds like coughing something up.

In the first week I met a delightful couple, Rudy and Chantel. We went to a barbacue at their house and had a few beers. I got to experience a real Australian Barbie! However I was sadly disapointed to hear that not only were there no shrimp to throw on, but Australians exclusively call them "prawns."Who knew? We had a wonderful time and somewhere in the middle of the party someone decided it was a great idea to play ne'erdowells, to hop the neighbor's fence and pick some olives from their tree. We ended up ripping a branch off the tree! Whoops.

I only found out later that the house was abandoned and we risked little other than skinning our knees on the fence, but the thrill was nice at the time.

Adelaide quickly became too small a place to confine the likes of Tyler and me. The first weekend we headed for a local sea town called Glenelg. It was nice there. We saw adorable little children playing on the beach like this one pictured here.

Tyler took a moment to play fashion model on the dock.

He guided me with his sheer animal power. The man was really a natural in front of the camera. Here we are together, me wearing the worst sun glasses known to modern man.

The local fishermen were out in force and I caught a shot of this one's crazy bicycle. I like how it turned out.

It was a sleepy little beach town. So much so, that they even had their own metal detector guy combing the beach for lost Dubloons. This was a recovery day so there's not a lot of action in it. Sorry I know my joof is know for swashbucking action!

Till next time.

Blue Mountians are not so to a colorblind man, and Adelaide First Impressions

The next day we went on a trip to the blue mountains, ate lots of food and finally Tyler flew to Adelaide. Here are the mountains...











Here are some local tigers.












And I know we agreed not to talk about it but here is Tyler getting taken advantage of by a Koala. You have got to watch those little buggers, they're incorrigible. Due to a silly mishap my flight was changed to the day after and I was forced to spend one more night at Jill's.

When I arrived in Adelaide it was dry and cold. A strange combo but there you go. I was drinking water like I was in the desert. I later would be.The first few days were recovery from travel and drinking so I spent a lot of time indoors. That however was acceptable considering that it was raining and cloudy. This was the weather I had expected in Seattle not Australia but you can't really order that, the weather I mean.

On the second or third day (things are fuzzy) I took a walk around the park near Tyler's ridiculously large top floor penthouse suite. You think I'm kidding but it was all of those things. Anyway more on that later back to the park. I stalked some wild animals and came up with these pictures.

I found a wild parrot:
Not as difficult as it sounds owing to their loud mating rituals.

I wish this was a Red Headed Boobie or a Nut Hatch
cause I like saying those names, but I think it's an Australian Pigeon (opening for the Sex Pistols).
This is probably not a gum tree which explains why I found
no Kookaburra in it.
Ok I'm a photographer-ish so I am allowed one kind of arty shot, right?
I took this while wearing a beret and
smoking out of a thin black cigarette holder. Incidentally this is the backside of the old fruit and vegetable market in town that has been gentrified into upscale shops.
Ah the simplicity of a bench. Shinning with sit-able warmth there in the middle of the park.

So that's about it for my Adelaide first impression. That night we went to a party with some "real" Aussies which I will talk about next time. Until then, be well.