tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199037712024-03-06T01:07:16.105-08:00the travel bloglife is a journeycolindbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02749335382057149178noreply@blogger.comBlogger133125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19903771.post-31988623995833610332009-05-11T23:28:00.000-07:002009-05-11T23:57:55.727-07:00I Don't Like Overhead Squats [Introduction: about a year ago I discovered that, despite years of hating the gym, I actually loved working out. Thanks to an awesome bootcamp class in Seattle and a crazy CrossFit gym here in SF I've been able to get a great workout with out going to the "gym." I could rant and rave about this for many, many paragraphs, but I'll save that for later. The short version is that I'm so colindbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02749335382057149178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19903771.post-33529057683094901892009-04-29T23:43:00.000-07:002009-04-29T23:48:38.897-07:00The Morning CommuteI hate commuting to work. I hate commuting so much that the last time I lived in California I chose to live in the dead center of the suburbs — killing any faint glimmer of a social life — because it meant I could rollerblade, bike or walk to work. And it was worth it. I hate commuting.Fortunately my second tour of California includes a job in downtown San Francisco, meaning I can colindbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02749335382057149178noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19903771.post-21114610679499762582009-04-27T22:39:00.000-07:002009-04-27T22:44:31.630-07:00A Weekend in San Francisco I may be a bit biased, but I'm pretty sure Seattle is the greatest city in the world.I've proudly uttered that line a few times. Well, more than a few times. And I stand by it, Seattle is an amazing place. However, my friend Gaurav made an astute point today at work. If I love Seattle so much, what the hell am I doing in San Francisco? Good question.I guess the only thing greater colindbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02749335382057149178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19903771.post-71992405479065465952008-07-07T00:37:00.000-07:002008-07-07T01:31:08.792-07:00The $60 BeerI'm not a big gambler. I'm too logical and methodical, two traits I'm convinced aren't going to help me strike big in Vegas. My logical eye ensures that I play determined not to lose too much (instead of hoping that I might win big). Sitting at a roulette table I consistently spread the minimum bid out across the board, attempting to minimize my losses. My friend Mike is much more impulsive colindbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02749335382057149178noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19903771.post-20024797732016965762007-11-20T11:29:00.000-08:002007-11-20T11:41:15.561-08:00Vacation's OverI can tell when it's time to wrap up a trip; aside from the date on my return ticket. It's the little things that start piling up. I begin to run out of toiletries (and no, foreign replacements just don't cut it). My watch's battery has died and it's taking up space in the bottom of my bag. I start leaving things behind all over the place (I think I've accidentally left a small souvenir in colindbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02749335382057149178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19903771.post-48703007766247297202007-11-18T12:55:00.001-08:002007-11-18T14:59:44.098-08:00Going Out on a High Note Last night one of my favorite bands, the Foo Fighters, played in London. An evening with my favorite band sounded like a perfect way to finish my adventures around Europe so I spent some time on ebay.co.uk, trying to get a ticket to the concert. The Foo Fighters are much bigger in Europe (as compared to America) so tickets aren't easy to come by. But I persevered and ended up with a seat.colindbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02749335382057149178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19903771.post-38152174281765715932007-11-18T12:22:00.000-08:002007-11-18T13:53:09.248-08:00I Just Want ChipsI don't understand the British language. I was at a Mexican restaurant last night, have a couple of drinks and snacks before going to a concert (more on that later). In need of a taste of America (well Mexico, but close enough), I asked the bartender for some chips and guacamole. He looked at me strangely and told me he needed to check with his manager first. I sat and watch him and the colindbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02749335382057149178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19903771.post-42606196004710557882007-11-18T10:42:00.000-08:002007-11-18T12:22:19.285-08:00England England has long since been a thorn in my side. Previous trips to London were far from ideal; the city and I seem to have developed a mutual feeling of distrust. So it was a with a wary eye that I stepped foot back into the country last week. In my mind England had a lot of apologizing to do.Fortunately, my week was sensational. The first good decision I made was to avoid London colindbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02749335382057149178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19903771.post-73673641871948978932007-11-14T09:10:00.000-08:002007-11-14T09:13:06.968-08:00Iceland Lets start with the facts: Iceland is phenomenal. I love pretty much everything about it. I love the constantly changing, occasionally extreme weather. I'm used to unpredictable weather in Seattle, but it pales in comparison to Iceland. Sitting directly on the gulf stream doesn't help any. A relentless wind pushes a week's worth of weather systems across the island in an afternoon.I colindbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02749335382057149178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19903771.post-32526527384628720062007-11-06T01:56:00.000-08:002007-11-08T01:59:08.002-08:00Arctic ChillI just landed in London this afternoon, I'm currently spending a wonderfully quiet evening outside the Stansted airport (where I'll be departing for Iceland from tomorrow). I can't tell you how comfortable it is to be in an English speaking country. Passing through customs, I was able to stroll up to the counter with a casual "How's it going?" greeting. Of course, the English would rather colindbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02749335382057149178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19903771.post-7784398914872685752007-11-06T01:51:00.000-08:002007-11-08T02:00:18.895-08:00Arabian Nights My trek through Morocco marked the second time I've set foot in Africa. But the similarities between Morocco and Tanzania end at the continental level. Actually, I don't really consider this as my second time in Africa, but more my first time in the middle east. Culturally and architecturally, at least. It was an incredible trip, of course. Instead of rehashing the entire trip, I colindbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02749335382057149178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19903771.post-53752373003169358042007-10-30T14:35:00.000-07:002007-10-30T15:19:05.437-07:00Hasta Luego, Spain My last weekend in Spain turned out to be quite eventful. After getting robbed and dealing with a bout of homesickness, I completely the triumvirate with violent case of food poisoning (or something) Sunday night. There's nothing like an evening in a cheap hostel, jumping back and forth from my bed to the (conveniently close) sink to make for a truly enjoyable trip through Andalucian colindbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02749335382057149178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19903771.post-48383217715089590692007-10-30T13:33:00.000-07:002007-10-30T13:41:10.989-07:00Southern Spain As I type this I'm on a train from Granada to Ronda. I'm doing a whirlwind trip through southern Spain (one night in Granada, one night in Ronda, half a day in Arcos and then two nights in Sevilla) before heading south to Morocco for a week. After a month of "living" in Barcelona it feels a little strange to on the road again. I'm still not sure if I actually liked Barcelona, but I colindbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02749335382057149178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19903771.post-43429849840839727132007-10-30T13:21:00.000-07:002007-10-30T14:01:11.212-07:00Granada Wow, what a difference a short flight makes. Granada is nothing like Madrid or Barcelona. Obviously it's much smaller, but it's also much more "Spanish." Guitarists and small bands hang out in every plaza, making every walk an enjoyable one. Many streets are too narrow for cars (and — somehow — the streets that are wide enough for a car manage to be two way streets. I colindbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02749335382057149178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19903771.post-64509646160744017502007-10-30T12:55:00.000-07:002007-10-30T13:20:11.211-07:00A Barcelona Farewell After nearly a month with my sister in Barcelona, last Friday marked my final night as a temporary resident. To celebrate my sister and I threw together an impromptu (and very Spanish) farewell dinner. The two big-ticket items being the very high class cheese (manchego) and the ham (jamón ibérico). We picked up our dinner at the market, also grabbing some fresh bread to put everything colindbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02749335382057149178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19903771.post-10664655543312098852007-10-26T07:39:00.000-07:002007-10-26T07:47:08.858-07:00Montserrat Nestled in the hills some 30 miles from Barcelona is the monastery of Montserrat. Founded in 1025, the monastery is Catalonia's most important pilgrimage sites and is steeped in history. The church houses a statue of La Moreneta, one of the patron saints of Catalonia and the most revered religious symbols in the area. Pilgrims travel from all over to touch the statue for good luck. colindbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02749335382057149178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19903771.post-66425902193480649552007-10-22T07:30:00.000-07:002007-10-22T07:36:18.423-07:00How To Speak Like A TouristIt's been almost a month since I touched down in Madrid, making this by far the longest amount of time I've spent in non-English speaking country. Fortunately, the language barrier hasn't been much of an issue. Sadly it's not because I can speak Spanish (a 100 word vocabulary doesn't get you far these days), but it's because everyone here speaks English. In my three weeks in Barcelona I think colindbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02749335382057149178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19903771.post-21936817479408188962007-10-22T07:13:00.000-07:002007-10-22T07:36:18.449-07:00Antoni Gaudí On my first weekend in Barcelona my sister and I did a quick tour of Gaudí's major works: Park Güell, Casa Milà, Casa Botllò, and the Sagrada Família. The lines to go inside were long and we had a full schedule, so my sister just gawked at the exteriors. His style is fanciful, unique and definitely fun to look at. But I came away only mildly impressed. Yes, his stuff distinct, but it colindbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02749335382057149178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19903771.post-8479791434584617932007-10-16T08:28:00.000-07:002007-10-16T08:36:31.157-07:00La Boqueria I'm happy to report that the food situation hasn't been all that unpleasant in Spain. Sure I haven't had a salad, smoothie, or fajita in a month, but I'm certainly not starving over here. My favorite place to pick up the essentials is La Boqueria market. Just a block off of Las Ramblas, every fresh food you could possibly imagine is crammed into a tiny market, packed with tourists and colindbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02749335382057149178noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19903771.post-51235958698263263712007-10-16T08:20:00.000-07:002007-10-16T08:36:31.158-07:00Street Performers on Las Ramblas I've mentioned it before, but I'll say it again: there is a lot of stuff happening on Las Ramblas. You can buy flowers or buy birds, but the biggest attraction is the street performers. I took a paseo down the street last weekend, snapping a few pictures of the acts that I saw. There are some regulars there, but every day I see someone new. For the most part each individual performer colindbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02749335382057149178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19903771.post-44812125567535658322007-10-16T08:06:00.000-07:002007-10-16T08:36:31.159-07:00Sport Lets talk about sports (if you don't like sports you can probably just skip this completely). Europeans love sports. Sadly they're not too fired up about baseball or American football, so I've had a hard time following the playoffs or the Seahawks. However, they love the "other" football. Last weekend my sister and I got tickets to FC Barcelona, one of the best football teams in the colindbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02749335382057149178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19903771.post-31201211035212171722007-10-10T02:42:00.003-07:002007-10-16T08:36:31.160-07:00Barcelona I've now been in Barcelona for just over a week. The guidebooks duly note that Barcelona and the rest of Catalonia are not like the rest of Spain and "almost feel like another country." There's no almost about it. Barcelona and Madrid are very, very different cities. And not in the way that say Seattle and New York are different cities, it's more like how New York and London are colindbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02749335382057149178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19903771.post-59469294373826635402007-10-04T10:54:00.000-07:002007-10-10T10:20:52.624-07:00A Tale of Two Cities[Note (again): originally written some time last week, but I haven't had internet so it's a little late]Originally titled This is Spain!, I'm adding a second half to this post, describing the highs and lows of my first week in Barcelona. My literary companion Rick Steves says that traveling through Europe is a roller-coaster adventure, filled with many screams of delight and terror. Things workcolindbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02749335382057149178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19903771.post-6326774725890105342007-10-02T10:53:00.000-07:002007-10-10T10:11:29.272-07:00Plaza de Toros [Note: originally written on October 2nd, but I haven't had internet access for a week, so it's a little late. And yes, this is what happens when I have too much time to write a blog entry, it becomes unnecessarily descriptive...]Shortly after 5:00pm last Sunday night my sister and walked out of the Prado (one of Europe's largest museums, one that cannot be conquered in a single outing) colindbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02749335382057149178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19903771.post-42482556107450968852007-09-29T12:10:00.001-07:002007-09-29T23:40:45.260-07:00European CuisineI don't like food.Well that's not entirely true, I just don't really like flavor all that much. I guess flavor isn't all that bad, but if given a choice I'd rather sit down with some fruit, vegetables, and a plate full of plain noodles. Which works great for me in America, but not so well in say anywhere else in the world.This has the potential to spell disaster on a two month trip through colindbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02749335382057149178noreply@blogger.com0