Amy's Euro Journey

Date: Sat, 19 Jul 1997 12:28:13 -0700 (PDT)
From: "Amy T. Goodloe" &t;agoodloe@shell6.ba.best.com>
To: travelog@lesbian.org
Subject: Las Primeras Dos Semanas

Hola mi amigas y familias! Soy en Espanya, y estoy haciendo un tiempo muy bueno! Espanya es bellisma.

Which is to say... two weeks into my journey, I am finally at my target destination: the country of Spain, which is absolutely beautiful. Granted, I've only been in Barcelona two days now, but already I love it, although I think I loved Spain, with its rich medieval history and contemporary elegance, even before setting foot on Spanish soil. The incredibly warm and friendly people, the laid-back lifestyle, the beautiful architecture and the delicious food only make it all that much more appealing -- not to mention the fact that I could easily become fluent in the language. But not to worry -- I'm not planning to move here, not *yet* anyway! Jobs teaching English -- language, literature and writing -- are plentiful, opportunities to study medieval mysticism abound, the cost of living is very low and my doggies are more than welcome, so I will confess to being somewhat tempted!

What follows is a brief outline of my trek to date, just to keep you all up to date on my progress on the mythical American quest for a European adventure. For more details, and as you might imagine, there are a'plenty, you will have to await with baited breath the publication of my travel journal, of which you will be among the lucky recipients upon its more carefully crafted completion.

July 4-6: London

Stayed in the *hostel from hell* in Earls Court, ate icky British food (runny eggs and beans, mmmm), travelled three times all the way to Picadilly Circus on the tube for a couple of Dunkin Donuts (ah, the draw of the familiar), and generally defended myself against the drugged out teenaged boys sharing my room, all of whom were desperate to know how lesbians have sex.

On a more positive note, watched the Gay Pride Parade on Saturday, the liveliness of which made the rest of the weekend worth it, and thoroughly enjoyed the after-parade festivities, which draw colorful, happy crowds two to three times the size of those in San Francisco. Saw a couple of tourist attractions: the British Museum, Big Ben, Westminister Abbey and the bookstores in Bloomsbury, but plan to see more when I return for the few days prior to my departing flight on August 15. I do love Britain and plan to come another time for a more extensive tour of the whole country.

July 7-11: Rome

After a failed venture into the French countryside, where France's reputation for hostility to Americans was more than confirmed by their refusal to communicate with me in anything but French (of which I know perhaps three words, none of which were sufficient to secure me lodging or any other basic necessity, even though every proprietor knew English) I hopped on the night train to Rome. Hadn't planned to go this far south in Italy, but really didn't know what else to do, given my state of jet-lagged and post Nightmare on Earl's Court exhaustion. One can easily see all of the major sights in Rome in one day, maybe two, but I stayed for four simply to recover, though had I known what glorious sights awaited me farther north, I would have moved on more quickly.

July 12: Naples

When you hear tales about how obnoxious Italian men can be towards women, esp. blonde American women, you must be hearing about Naples. It seems there is no "nice part of town" and drunk and sprawling jobless men lounge on every corner, making obscene noises and gestures as you walk by, no matter how conservatively you are clothed. Ugh. So I took a day trip to Pompeii to see the city frozen in time, and checked out early the next morning.

July 13-15: Florence

Beautiful city, but the wait to get into almost every important art gallery was half a day long, so I mostly just soaked up the lively atmosphere (while hundreds of mosquitos sucked up my blood!! eek!) and planned to come back another time, *any* time other than during the sweltering heat of summer. And to bring lots of bug spray!

July 16 : Venice

The train deposited me in Venice early in the day, so I toured the city by foot and vaporetta (the ferry-like boats that comprise the Venetian bus system) with plans to leave on the midnight train to Toulouse. Another very beautiful city, one I would love to return to any time other than tourists season.

July 17: Toulouse

Not much to recommend it, but the city is clean and relatively affordable, though cool and rainy. Around 10pm the phone in my room rang: the man behind the desk wanted to know if I was interested in going out for a drink -- the first gesture of anything other than outright disdain I experienced from a French person, but I refused (politely), knowing I had to wake up at 5am to catch the morning train to Barcelona.

July 18: Barcelona

In *stark* contrast to my experience in France, and even to some extent in Italy, I find the people of Barcelona helpful, friendly and nice to a fault. Within two seconds of emerging into the cool sunlit air above the Metro station, I had more offers to help me find my way than I could make use of, and finally agreed to allow a grandfatherly Andalusian man guide me all the way to the hotel, talking to me in slow, basic Spanish all the way, giving me advice on what to see, where to eat, and where to learn more about teaching opportunities. What a delight to finally be able to communicate, though my Spanish is still fairly rough compared to what I would like it be. I wander the streets, admiring the amazing Gaudi architecture and the lively festival crowds along Las Ramblas until well into the evening, which I spend listening to an outdoor band from Peru and talking to an American ex-pat who has lived all over the world and currently teaches English to Castillan business men and women. I agree to help him with the Internet on Saturday (another possible job venue for an incoming American!) and in exchange he shows me around el Barrio Gotic and treats me to lunch at a little out-of-the-way Pakistani restaurant much loved by the locals.

Best of all thus far, the persistent nausea, which has plagued me since a few days before leaving on this trip, magically disappears in the magic kingdom of Spain, leaving me free to sample the variety of cuisine without fearing the consequences. I will leave tomorrow to head towards Sevilla, Granada, Cordoba, Avila, San Sebastian, Valencia and then Barcelona again on my way back to London, but already I know that 3-4 weeks will not be enough to learn everything Spain has to teach me. I know I will be back.

Stay tuned for the next installment, due to cross your electronic desktop... well, when I next feel like writing it! As the Spanish say, hasta manana...

With love, hugs and well wishes to all!

--Amy the adventurer

Date: Wed, 13 Aog 1997 17:05:26 -0800
To: travels@lesbian.org
From: "Amy T. Goodloe" <amy@lesbian.org>
Subject: The Pilgrim's Progress

Greetings, friends and family! You will be pleased to know that I have arrived home safely and soundly, if rather sleepily! Over the next six weeks I will be working on expanding my travel journal into a more literary rendition of my experiences while travelling, but until that time you must content yourselves with the following notes, which paint only the barest picture. Hope you enjoy your virtual tour!

--Amy

July 18-20: Barcelona

(for more on Barcelona see the first set of travel notes I sent out in mid-July)

I am enchanted by this beautiful and lively city, whose people know well the fine art of celebrating the joy of life. In keeping with the local custom, I spend most of my time simply strolling about, enjoying the festive music, laughing at the creative though often incomprehensible street theater and generally getting a feel for the city. Knowing that I will be back later in my journey, I hold off on making my way down the Great Tourist Trail, although glimpses of Miro, Picasso, and Gaudi materialize in the most unexpected places. Barcelona is itself a living museum.

July 21: Sevilla

The town is charming, but somewhat difficult to navigate. I find my way to the heart of Sevilla exhausted and weary from the beautiful but blinding sun. Had I stayed longer and sought out the soul of the town, I might say I know her better, but at the moment I know only that I would like some day to return.

July 22: Cordoba

The heat in Cordoba is the most intense I've yet felt, rivaling even the midday highs of Death Valley in early summer, with the same dryish heat and rippling air. To help defend itself against the sun's incessant caress, the entire town is whitewashed -- making it seem beautiful and clean, but blindingly bright. I visit the Mezquita Catedral, a large, beautiful Mosque that was later, much to its misfortune, converted to a church, but which still stands tall and graceful, offering one of the few shelters from the baking heat. I decide to take a nap before heading out for dinner (which in Spain typically starts around 10 or 11), but am surprised when I wake up to discover a new day has dawned!

July 23-24: Granada

Picturesque setting, among mountains and rolling hills. Granada's biggest attraction, and one of the most beautiful sights in all of Spain, is the Alhambra, the majestic fortress of a thousand uses, which has survived the ravages of war (including Napoleon's senseless bombings) with remarkable grace. I spend a day here, and another day wandering the windy upward roads leading to the Albacin, which I never precisely locate though I enjoy a rather tasty plate of paella and some incredible hilltop views on the way!

July 25-26: Madrid

I had been warned against visiting this hot, busy city, but ventured forward nonetheless, prepared to brave the madding crowds. Imagine my surprise when I woke up on in the morning and headed out for breakfast, only to find myself alone in the streets of a Spanish ghost town! I had arrived on the eve of the Fiesta de Santiago, one of Spain's largest national holidays, and while I knew that the feast fell on the 25th, I had no idea the extent to which it would shut down one of the world's largest and most active cities! Apparently everyone leaves town, not just for the Fiesta but for much of the month of August, in search of endless beaches, shady groves and quaint villages for the annual holiday, and so to one such destination I then travelled!

July 27-28: Avila

Home of the medieval mystic and reformer Santa Teresa, central headquarters for the "barefoot nuns" of the order of Carmelites, and favored vacation spot among central Spain's most wealthy and well-clad, Avila is a city of extremes. Protected by a massive medieval wall of sand stone (one of the oldest fully preserved walls in Europe), the city stands on the crest of a large hill overlooking rocky sheep pastures, flat farmlands and wide expanses of desert-like brush. From atop the walls, the eye takes in the beggars asking for change from the vacationers in their Sunday best, the tiny cloister where Santa Teresa mortified her flesh in the shadow of the antique luxury hotel, the barefoot nuns trodding alongside some of the most well-heeled people in Europe, and nary a tacky tourist to cloud the view. History tells us that Spain is a Catholic country, but don't let the cathedrals fool you. The Spanish worship the gods of fashion, and pay homage to the Almighty Shoe. Don't dare commit the unforgivable sin of wearing the Wrong Shoes or you will immediately be branded an outcast, a heretic... worst of all, a *tourist*! I speak from experience.

July 29-August2: Barcelona

Back to the magic kingdom, the enchanted city, delighted to have a few more days to explore its wonders, but midway through a sweltering heat wave rolls in and I am overcome with the urge to purchase at least half a dozen lightweight sundresses, some so lightweight as to feel like nothing at all, and, judging from the shocked stares of little old ladies as I walk by, almost as sheer. Thus clad (or seemingly so!) I strike out to enjoy the sights at the relaxed pace of a Spaniard, spreading out the destinations over several days, pausing for long afternoon breaks to enjoy a leisurely lunch of tapas and beer, fantasizing about arctic climates. Among my stops: the world class Zoo and Aquarium, the Poble Espanyol (a small replica village built to showcase the different architecture, arts and crafts of the peoples of Spain), Montjuic (on the top of which is a huge old castle and war museum, as well as breathtaking views of the city and ocean), the Museum of Contemporary Art (featuring such profound pieces as the wall of toast), the Sagrada Familia (perhaps Gaudi's most famous work, characteristically unfinished), Montserrat (the sacred mountain an hour northwest of the city, and a stronghold for Catalan culture under Franco), the Erotica Museum (showcasing written and graphical erotica from a variety of cultures worldwide, ancient to contemporary), the Expo Animalia (ok, so I just *had* to see the dogs, b/c I missed mine so much) and more! Though there is so much of this city yet to explore...

August 2-9: Edinburgh, Scotland

My restless wandering at last catches up to me and I arrive in Edinburgh, after a 4 hour flight from Barcelona and a 16 hour bus ride from London, trembling with exhaustion. I had originally wanted to stay here only a few days, moving forward then to explore more of the beautiful, ethereal Scottish highlands, but my bones protest with such vehemence that I decide instead to stay for the week and come back to the country for further exploration at a cooler and less crowded time of year, with my sweetie to accompany me. Something in Scotland tugs at my soul, bringing tears to my eyes and a smile to my face -- if genes remember their roots, then mine are most definitely celebrating their homecoming. For the first time on this trip my daily restlessness vanishes, and I find the calm that had been eluding me thus far. During the day I wander the ancient stone streets, always within easy earshot of the quaintly characteristic sound of Scottish bagpipes, browsing through brightly painted shops, catching my breath at the occasional glimpse of shaggy coast and misty sea off to the north, lingering over warm, nourishing vegetarian meals made with whole grains and other deliciously familiar flavors, pausing to enjoy the quirky originality of the street theater (at last in my native tongue!). In the evenings I rest in Princess Gardens, watching the setting sun paint shadows of plum and violet across the massive stone walls of Edinburgh Castle. When the thick fog unfurls across the castle gates, rolling rapidly downward towards the gardens, I know it is time to return to the hostel, for a peaceful evening of reading, perhaps chatting with other tourists, and, at last... sleep.

August 10-12: London

Having spent several hours pouring over guides to things to do and see in London, I arrive in town ready to strike out and see what I can see -- until, that is, I realize that the city is being held hostage to one of the worst heat waves in recent memory. Nonetheless, I brave the crowds at Camden Town, Covent Gardens, and SoHo Square, and amuse myself by trying to estimate the total number of facial piercings per square foot. I decide to forsake the typical tourist traps (many of which I've seen on previous visits) in favor of simply strolling the streets and parks, indulging in a long break at an air-conditioned cybercafe, pausing in shops to buy last minute purchases that finally make my swelling and multiplying bags too heavy to manage alone. The early morning trek from the hostel to the Holburn tube station (which goes directly to Heathrow) is perhaps my most challenging, requiring the cooperation of every weary and worn out fiber in my body, but as each step leads me that much closer to the familiar and much-missed landscape of my neighborhood, my house, my lover's curves, I press forward into the awkward and overwhelming weight with a lightness of spirit that could itself fly me home.

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