bodega celebration

so it was built and we came! and we had quite an opening celebration. we participated in a sufi based osho meditation, "no dimentions", and wirled until we dropped.

then we had some bubbly, some traditional cake from santiago, and cheese, cheese, and cheese. there was a special guest performance by rodrigo, eva and jose's son, who wowed us with magic tricks.

and we stayed talking and laughing, inagurating the space with lots of love, laughter, and hope. thank you for building it... thank you for inviting us...

If you build it they will come

That’s what Eva believed and convinced Jose of it and sure enough… they – we – did! She decided to fix their basement so that it could function as a work space for meditation, family constellation workshops, yoga, whatever. When we got there Jose was still working on the floor, with his son Alvaro. Eagerly and lovingly, Nisarga offered to help out if they needed it. The next day he was on his hands and knees laying out cement and tiles along with Jose and Alvaro.

Thank you Wiesiek for employing him in your construction company while he was in school so that he learned the basics of how to do some of these things. Thank you Jose for trusting him with the floor…

heading to the wild wild west! 11 hours on the renfe (spain´s national railways), crossing almost the entire north of spain, we head from barcelona to ponferrada, where eva and christina pick us up and take us to narayola, the smaller town next to the small town of ponferrada! where the sun sets at 10:30 and the land is covered in grape vines, and a beautiful family opens their arms and doors to us...

for more on ponferrada: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ponferrada

el regalo de barcelona

Originally we headed to Barcelona because it was the place where we knew we could get to from Nice, and from which we could take a train to Ponferrada, our first stop in Spain. We figured that while we are there it would be great to leave some things behind, instead of dragging them around on our backs for 6 weeks, and we knew we wanted to spend time in Barcelona so we figured we would just end our Spanish tour there and pick up our stuff before heading onwards to England. Just the day after we figured out how to reach Barcelona from Nice, i read an email from a friend who said he has a friend in Barcelona we could stay with if we needed to. Perfect! So we had a place to leave this crap and to rest in between trains. We were scheduled to arrive late night and we planned on leaving the next morning. We were told we didn’t have to buy tix in advance, but when we reached Barcelona the train we wanted was booked for the whole next day. So the universe saw it fit to provide us with a full day in Barcelona. We accepted the offer and lived a life time in that day!

We headed out at 10am on what would be the first real day of sightseeing for Nisarga and I. So far in Nice we lounged around in bed, got food together slowly, then around 3 or 4 wandered over to the beach, a 3 minute walk away, and then we’d come back home around 7, shower, hang out with the family, have more food and wine, go to bed late and repeat the next day. Well that’s what you are supposed to do when you haven’t seen each other in weeks, and you are in front of the beach. But this is Spain! I’ve been dreaming of this vacation for the past 8 years, since i was last in Spain; 1-2 months dedicated to just traveling around spain! So when Nisarga suggests getting on one of those tour buses that takes you around town, or getting into the metro to get to where we are going, i cringe. I try everything to convince him that the best way to do this is to walk. He resists, he feels it’s better to take transport to where we are going and then walk around where we will be. I insist. We agree that we will try walking and then if it’s too much we’ll get on the metro. Because really, we aren’t going to any one particular place. We are walking and getting to know the city through the walk, and we are heading to areas, no particular places, no maps marked. This was after all a last minute surprise, present, so there was no plan.

So we start walking. And it’s ohhhhh so lovely. Really! The city that i fell in love with 8 years ago is still enchanting for me. We wander through different parts of Barcelona, slowly, lazily, enjoying the atmosphere. Neither one of us has walked this much in who knows how long! It ends up to be a 12 hour walk! Yes, we reach home at 10pm, not once having gotten on the metro. We end up in parks, see the Olympic games area of town, sit in a couple of churches, stare at the port from a hill above, check out a sex shop with a peep show, wander around the gothic part of town and the old town admiring the architecture. We aren’t ever really lost because we aren’t headed to anywhere specifically, just headed in a direction.

I'm amazed as we walk and go into and out of shops and places, how many immigrants from spain's former colonies in latin america are in the service sector. we almost run into no spaniards behind any counters. wow!

For lunch we stop at a menu, and Nisarga is amazed at how this restaurant can make any money. For 9 euro we get large portions of what we order: a starter, a main dish, a desert, and a whole bottle of house wine to split between the two of us; we pass on the coffee. By now we are tired and a bit drunk. And full to the rim... bursting at the seams in fact!!! We walk some more. We get ice-cream hoping the sugar helps. It works for a very short while. We sit on a bench in a plaza off of the ramblas. We then find another refuge, a plaza with a guitar player, and a nice little corner for us on the pavement. We need our siesta big time! that mid day bottle of red needs to come with a bed!

When we end up home our feet and legs have had it with us. We crash with smiles on our faces. Thank you Barcelona for a wonderful first day in Spain! Thank you universe for this lovely surprise!

Monaco by car

So what did we do on Bastille Day? (A major French holiday) We headed to Monaco! Well, it was our last day in the area and we had a car and it’s just next door and so why not? On our way there we stopped at a lovely look out point and sat on a bench and had a picnic of the usual: cheese, fruit, bread, dried sausage for me, carrots for him. And it started raining. We went on to Monaco hoping it would not be raining there, but it was. So we drove around a bit, basically from one end to the other which took about half an hour. We parked the car at a cliff overlooking a small beach and we waited out the rain. Then we tried to find the botanical gardens, apparently Monaco’s touristic highlight: huge cacti. Exciting right? By the time we found it Nisarga’s father had called and informed us it was bright and sunny over there, so we decided we could head back to Nice and still make it to the beach; and so we did! Thus I’ve been to Monaco, but never got out of the car. Yes, it was a particularly lazy day for us!

Polaskies

In my 32 years of this life time I have never met a Polish person, at least I don’t remember one. I know nothing about the culture, stereotypes (other then the American jokes about Poles being dumb), food, geography, etc. Nothing! It has never occurred to me to visit Poland, I have never heard the language being spoken, and I had no idea who its neighbours are. I was bluntly honest about all this with Nisarga. I was also honest with him that I thought it was too early, way too early to meet anyone in his family, and that I was nervous about it. After all, I was only the second girlfriend of his they have met. We stayed at his brother’s apartment in Nice, his brother’s girlfriend was in Poland visiting family, and Nisarga’s father also stayed over sometimes. So here I am meeting his brother and father for the first time AND we are all staying in the same apartment. I was horrified at the thought. I felt embarrassed! This is no exaggeration, on the first night when they came home from work I couldn’t find it in me to leave the bedroom and walk to the living room to meet them. I tried a few times, opening the door and taking a few steps and then turned right back around and went into the bedroom and shut the door behind me. Nisarga finally picked me up and carried me to the living room planting me on the couch, while I kicked and screamed and turned tomato red even more horrified and embarrassed. I guess it had to be done or I might not have left the room at all.

On top of that, they don’t speak English, obviously I don’t speak Polish. The way it worked out was they would speak to me in French, I would get the idea, I would respond in English, and Nisarga would translate my response in Polish since neither one of us speaks French although I understand some.

I was worried that the cultural difference between the Polish and myself would be huge, but it wasn’t! It wasn’t at all! They are loud, bossy, overly hospitable, chivalrous, show-offish, love to eat and drink, laid back and casual, humorous, gossipy. My Greek and Latin background more than prepared me for this. With the exception of the language, I felt quite at home. I fell in love with Nisarga’s father soon after I met him. He is like a big teddy bear of a man. A huge man, who may feel at times like an elephant in a porcelain shop, afraid of hurting others and by now very used to conforming to others’ expectations of him to match his size with his demeanour. But he is quite emotional, touchy-feely, funny, charming, talkative, intelligent, eager to please. Our energy clicked right away. I’m very glad to have met him.

Overall, meeting Dominik and Wiesiek went not only smoothly but I actually enjoyed it. One night we all went out to dinner, including a couple of other Polish guys, friends of theirs, and Wiesiek noticed my earrings. Nisarga explained that they were a present he gave me, from Poland. His father immediately took such pride in that these beautiful earrings were from Poland. It was so cute. Then he made a comment that in his days men used to give the present of a ring, not earrings, and that times must have changed. Wiesiek: let me get the earrings, necklace, bracelets and all before we finalize the deal with the ring ok? Dominik is now asking when Nisarga and I are going to have kids, since he already had one. Dominik: we are busy, not now! This is exactly what my family would be saying by now, hilarious!

Nice spelled N-I-C-E

I find it hilarious that Nice (pronounced niece for those in doubt) is spelled n-i-c-e. I just do. I’m sure it’s not funny to most but to me it’s hilarious. All I knew of this place was what I had heard on TV, about it being full of people with money and by the sea. Cote d’Azur, the total high life! And to be honest, I had some reservations in the beginning about meeting Nisarga there, because it’s not really my style. But then again, with a place to stay and the beach a 2 minute walk away, I couldn’t exactly bring myself to say no.

I asked Nisarga if he would be picking me up from the airport in Nice. He said yes. Then I asked him if I should go all the way outside of the airport or where I should wait, just in case he was late or something. He said I should look for a tall guy with dark hair holding a placard with my name and go straight to him. Ha! And what would he like to see me in I asked? A blue dress he responded. Less then a week later, there I was in the bathroom of the Nice airport terminal 2, doing a full makeover. Thank you Conway (for those who have lived or shopped in NYC you know what place I’m referring to) for that cheapo mini hippie blue dress. One rose in hand and a couple dozen waiting back in the apartment, a beautiful set of earrings from Poland, tight hugs, and lots of giggling.

That night Nisarga had a picnic ready to go: wine, fruit, cheese, bread. We originally were going to drive out to Cannes and have the picnic on a sandy beach out there, but we weren’t sure of the way to go and as we were lost we got pulled over by the cops – with whom Nisarga had a little ego tug of war for not wearing shoes while driving – so we scrapped the idea and just stayed in Nice. It was marvellous! We settled close by some guys who were playing music and we sat there under the stars and moon by the water catching up until after 2am. We were not the last to leave. Loved it!

This is a good representation of most of our time in Nice actually. We woke up late, he made brunch consisting of cheese, salad, bread, wine, olives, we would venture out around 3 not going far from home, basically crossing the street to get to the beach, stay there until 6 or 7, come back, nap. Yes, basically we were bums for a week. Totally! It got to the point that his father asked if we usually live like this and Nisarga clarified that there have been times when we woke up at 5am with the sun and the birds, meditated, did some cleansings and breathing exercises, a couple of hours of yoga and then went to eat at noon. His father was relieved I think.

Towards the end of the week we actually made the effort of going to Cannes again, after our usual late start, and this time we made it. Sandy beaches were a nice change to Nice’s rocky shore, but it had less of a town feeling to it (no this is not a complaint, we enjoyed our little excursion very much). And we went walking around one day around Nice’s old town and up the look out point… without a camera unfortunately.

That day we got Nisarga’s ears pierced! His father had looked at him a few days before and commented that he would look nice with an earring, and then I mentioned that I had thought it but didn’t say anything, and then Nisarga said he had also thought about it. So that was it, it was time! We found a place that was open on a Sunday and got Nisarga a new look. The earrings look splendid. Sexy actually, really sexy. When we got home his father looked at him and said that he couldn’t believe it, that Nisarga had actually done it. He said that he had always wanted to do it but hadn’t. We tried to convince him to go the next day to get it done and that we would go with him, but he wouldn’t go for it.

So Nice lived up to its reputation. Lots of sun and beach, lots of doing not much, lots of good food and wine. This was a lovely start to our summer vacation – yes, I know, vacation from what? Its not like we are going back to a job or something… but we can just call it a vacation from our vacation!

http://picasaweb.google.com/nisargaanddeepa/Nice#