Lisbon, Spain then Cali

Lisbon, Lisbon, Lisbon. A city of rich history and cheap eats. Located on a river that saw many of an explorer sail to an unknown, but adventurous fate. Portugal, pushed to the edge of the Atlantic by Spain but unrelenting when distinguishing itself from it's only land neighbor. Oh Portugal, how I miss thee.
Before arriving I was informed that Lisbon was a piece of work. Unique by its own right, and proud of it. An island on the Iberian Penninsula which survived the centuries when Spain was the greatest conquering nation on Earth. Portugal, small in area, people and GDP but not heart and mind. The worlds greatest navigators, shipbuilders and, arguably, at one time, conquerers. Just take out your atlas and find Brazil, Angola and Macau. Besides Macau, they're all a tad bigger than they're mother tongue land, to see the very least. Before arriving at the Sete Rios bus station I knew I was in for something special.
Being the unorganized person I am at times I didn't have a place to stay upon arrival. It's never a good thing to arrive at a busy bus/train/metro station in a large city at night with no place to stay. But as if heaven sent, a computer with free internet access stood glistening in the station. I hadn't seen many computers in bus stations and to be FREE, man you had to be kidding me. It wasn't the greatest of connections but I found a few hostel searching websites. On one search I found a hostel by the name of Oasis that had super high ratings. Somewhere in the mid 90s, almost unheard of. After finding directions, next were my bearings in the metro and I was off. I got off at my stop, up 4 flight of escalators and I was in the middle of a square next to a statue of a man that I assume by his hand shading the imaginary sun was some sort of an explorer. I walked the hilly streets looking for the hostel. Some drunk guy befriended me. (Note to you travel novices: Don't follow drunk guys who offer you directions at night in a European capital...unless you willing to punch him for the slightest reach of your stuff.) The guy thought he was funny but in the end directed me to the hostel. I walked in right after a group of 7 Aussie girls. Not a bad start.
Lisbon is very similar to San Francisco. Hills, trolleys, hippies, a replica of the Golden Gate Bridge and art. Every night I would sit at a vista spot just steps from the hostel and watch the sun set behind the red bridge. People of every variety were out. Stoned dread-lockers, thugs with corn-rows, old-folks supported by canes and the government, babies in strollers gazing at some of their first sunsets. Those nights were some of the most magical I've ever spent. I met amazing people in Lisbon, including a young lady that is very special to me.
The magic of Lisbon can hardly be conveyed in writing or pictures. It was about the time, place and people. Go and you'll see.

*Although I traveled Spain for three weeks after I left Lisbon I'm not going to go into too much detail. Not that it wasn't great but I'm now home and I want to talk about other things. So here's a quick overview. Madrid is big and there are lots of things to do. Frankly, I wasn't huge on it. BIG cities aren't my fav's in general. I have two that I love and that's enough for me. New York and Paris already take up enough space in my heart. Granada in southern Spain is unreal. It was the last bastion of Islamic power on the Iberian Peninsula. The Moorish architecture is beautiful, crowned by the Alhambra, the city is set below the ominous Sierra Nevada Mountains and the tapas are gratis. Go. Last but certainly not least: Barcelona. Up in Catalonia, this olympic city is dark-chocolate rich in culture. The architect Gaudi reigns but Ronaldinho is king. I stayed with my special lady friend I met in Lisbon. We had a blast, it was hard leaving her and the European continent but the Golden State was a callin'. A morning Swiss air flight landed me in LA(I can't stand that place). Then an Airbus ride up to East Beach and bam! I was back on the Riviera. So now, after being home for a while and adjusting to SB life, I'm really glad to be back.

Back in Pacific Standard Time

We'll here I am back home. Santa Barbara, California. Home of Karch Kiraly, La Super Rica, and rude, honk-happy L.A.ers who think that they own the place. It's good to be back home. But really, I'm happy just to see my family and friends. SB is a beautiful place. The Coastal mts. slope to the foothills flattening to the beach where the sea extends to the Channel Islands. On the eyes it doesn't get much better than these next of the woods. But all this said and done I'm not quite sure that SB, California and the U.S. is the place for me at the moment. I can't handle the rules everywhere. I'd like to make decisions based on my ability to judge what's right and wrong.
Maybe this is just my initial reaction to change. Well of course it's my initial reaction and I'm in need of adjustment. We'll see.
Back to the last few months of my trip. It's amazing how lazy I was writing this and how fast time flew. I believe I left off in Hungary. My plan after Hungary was to head down to Romania. I was intrigued by Transylvania, castles, the grand party on New Years Eve due to Romania's EU accession, and rural areas virtually unchanged for the last couple hundred years. I arrived at the Budapest train station early in the morning mid-December in order to transfer to a train heading in the direction of Bucharest. My connecting train wouldn't arrive for the next 3 hours and during this time I started to have some doubts. Did I really want to continue heading east in the dead of winter? Where temperatures can drop to -20 or -30 Celsius? I had planned on meeting my friend in Madrid at sometime and heading in the complete opposite direction with an exceedingly depleting bank account didn't make much sense. I took out my little organizer and made a list of 5 possibilities. Going to Romania, back to Berlin, staying in Budapest at a hostel, or with a friend there or catch the next train heading west. I went with the last choice. I checked the schedule saw a train leaving to Prague in 30 minutes and decided to head back to the Czech capital.
I spent a semi-frigid birthday and Christmas in the once Soviet invaded capital. I really enjoyed this tour of duty in Prague. Probably because I mostly stayed out of the touristy areas. I would walk through neighborhoods, sit in squares and read in cafes. A great book to read, especially in Prague because it takes place in Prague and is written by a Czech, is "the Unbearable Lightness of Being." Strange but good. I met some really cool folk at the hostel. A couple of savage Tasman's, a stony Canadian (from you guessed it BC) and a couple of wrilly Americans to name a few. After almost two weeks of guitar playing (I bought me a travel size for my birthday) and countless Czech Budvars I decided it was time to get to the Iberian peninsula.
Through Germany and onward to Paris. I spent a day in Paris with my friend Louis. I ate an amazing eclair, watched a weird movie and did a tasty bistro dinner. After goodbye cheek kisses to his cousin and her friend I hastefully grabbed my bags from his apartment and metroed it to the train station. I jumped on the train, unloaded my bags and went to put on my iPod. Bummer. The pod was back at Lou's plugged into the wall charging. It was alright, I had been listening non stop to anyone of my four different ones for the past 5 years. I slept upright in a seat that night surrounded by African immigrants. I woke up at the crack of dawn in fog shrouded French Basque country.
My final destination was San Sebastian. Or as I will refer to it for now on as "the Bastion." The Bastion is the cultural center of Pais Vasco, or in English, Basque Country. The Basques are a cultural group with one of the most distinctive and unique languages on Earth. No one really knows where the language originates from because it has no linguistic relatives. Some scholars believe it was the language of the original Iberians who occupied the peninsula thousands and thousands of years ago. The Basques were heavily oppressed during the Franco regime which ruled Spain from the late 30s, following the civil war, to the mid 70s when Franco eventually died. During this period the language was banned. Not only in schools or public but in households as well. A story goes that a couple was married for thirty years and only after Franco died did they realize they both spoke Basque. During the civil war the Basques sided against Franco and with the Communists. The communist promised complete self rule to the Basques if they helped in winning the war. Unfortunately they lost and the Basques were to pay a heavy price. A quick factoid. Hitler and Mussolini were allies of Franco and helped him with troops and fire power. In fact one of the first aerial bombardments was executed by the Nazis on the Basques in a town called Guernica. This slaughter was later depicted in a famous Picasso painting of the same name. Check it out here.
I really enjoyed my time in the Bastion. It's one of the most picturesque places I've been...ever. Two large cove shaped beaches are separated by a river that empties into the Atlantic. Or when the tide is right big swells come up the river and crash 20 yards in. Next to the river a large, lonesome hill bearing a Basque flag and a statue of Jesus is squeezed between the sea and the old quarter. The old quarter is full of bars serving pintxos. Pintxos, or tapas, are little snacks that one eats generally during lunch or before dinner. The Bastion has the reputation of having the tastiest ones in Spain, but also the most expensive. Here's a picture. During my stay I went on hikes through the surrounding hills, played soccer on the beach, played more guitar, met fabulous people and rang in the new year. The Bastion is truly a special place and I can say very confidently that it's my favorite small city that I went to in Europe. Go if you can.
After two weeks, I decided to head west along the northern coast of Spain. While in San Sebastian I met a girl who was to be studying there for the semester. Classes didn't start for a little while so she decided to join me for about a week. We went to the provinces of Cantabria, Asturias and Galicia. They are all quite small but unique in their own ways. Asturias is famous for its sidra, a cider made of apples, Galicia for its language and Celtic heritage and Cantabria, well actually it doesn't have much going on but that's what makes it unique. We departed in Santiago de Compostella, a famous destination for many catholic pilgrims. There is an amazing cathedral there and we stayed with a nice guy who we met on couchsurfing.com.
Lisbon was my next stop. An amazing city, which I fell in love with. I met amazing people, saw things my mind hardly could comprehend, and discovered some fantastic music. For these reasons and many more I am going to devote the next post entirely to the Portuguese capital.
Till Next Time...Ciao.