More Madrid

See more of our Madrid photos.

A Starbucks Warning

This isn't a sign you see in the NW 23rd Starbucks in Portland.

Kristie and the Bloodthirsty Crowd

This is when we had enough of the event. Notice the guy to Kristie's right. I think Hemingway was there, cigar and all. My 10th grade teacher was right about Hemmy watching bullfights in Madrid.

The Bullfight

We thought it was a good idea to attend a bullfight in Madrid. They happen only on Sundays, so we took the train to the arena and bought our tickets. We found our seats, right next to another pair of Americans. Were we in the forign section so we can be outraged together?



The bull comes out and runs around while five men dance and prance to incite the animal. As the bull passes, they try to stab him in the back with daggers. Taunting the bull with pink capes and stabbing him with little swords hardly seems fair. The bull has five colored swords stuck in his back; he looks like a woman in curlers. I find myself wanting the bull to win. It's only fair that a man dies once in awhile. I'm not bloodthirsty or anything. I'm a fan of justice.



The matador then stabs the larger sword into the bull. Even from our far-away seats, we can see the blood. The bull is cornered and scared and weak. He stumbles around. The matador moves in closer to stare at him, displaying some kind of power. Finally, the bull falls and the crowd goes wild. Kristie and I look horrified. Another guy goes in and stabs the bull a few more times to ensure he is dead. The band plays fanfare, while the carcass is attached to horses and dragged around the stadium displaying the "triumph." Kristie was to leave, but I think we should stay for another. I hope the bull wins this one. As I learned from The Breakfast Club, "If you want to play with the bulls, you're going to get it with the horns."




I think PETA would have a problem with this. Last night, we walked by a McDonalds, and there was a protest by a group of never-do-wells decrying the treatment of animals. Perhaps those folks should be outside this arena as it is worse. At least people eat the McAnimals. Oh wait...It's acceptable to protest all things American, but not the customs of other countries.

The bull charged this guy and bounced him on his horns. He looked injured, andf I think that is only fair. There should be a circle of life here once in a while. I want the bull to be the victor like I wanted Russell Crowe to win in Gladiator. It's rooting for the underdog. It's rooting for justice in nature.

Here's an idea: match the matadors against the protesters. I'd pay to see that.

Mr. T, Madrid, and Me

I began the morning watching an episode of The A-Team dubbed in Spanish. Either my Spanish is better than I thought or the storylines for this show are thread-bare, but I understood the show. The voice dubbing Mr. T sounded like a monster from Clash of the Titans. Perhaps the Spaniards need some help with their stereotypes of American Blacks.

In the episode, Murdoch was injured, and the rest of the team tried to obtain medical supplies in the most complicated way possible. Interspersed were flashbacks to the good times the gang had with crazy-ole Murdoch. At the end, there was a montage of scenes of the guy-crushing between B.A. and Murdoch with a synthesizer-heavy ballad about being best friends.

If this is the start of our vacation in Spain, how can it get any better?

Trip to Naples

I had a work trip to Naples, Italy, and we stayed over the weekend. It was one of the best trips we had. Bruce and Annie, our friends from Korea, were excellent hosts, and they showed us Pompeii and Herculaneum.




I had nightmares about this floating head painting.



Ash people from Pompeii:




Bruce and Annie


See more Italy Photos here

Oktoberfest!

I'm glad we went, but it was too crowded. One of the highlights was our visit to a flea circus. We saw fleas pulling a cart and kicking a soccer ball. Kristie thought it was magnets. I thought they were highly-trained insects. Aslan thinks they are freeloaders in her fur. Perhaps we are all right.





People love Munich, but I thought it was OK. We spend the day walking around, but nothing was especially unique. I was ready to leave after two days there.

It was our first experience in a youth hostel. While Wombats was clean and friendly, it still was a youth hostel. I opened our room door to find a completely naked man walking down the hall. I saw him a few hours later, still naked. The man and the numerous signs about being sure to vomit into a toilet are good reasons to avoid youth hostels in the future.

I guess it could have been worse; I could have been that naked man.

Funny Food

There was nothing funny about either of these Belgium eateries. We hardly cracked a smile. False advertising.

Strasbourg and Colmar

See our pictures of this trip here

Skateboarding to Alsace

We're in Strasbourg again after our Dublin trip was canceled. I'm waiting for Kristie outside the statue tunnel watching skateboarders. They certainly are tenacious with their practice. Falling after each attempt, thy try again. When they make that triple ollie (I don't even know what this is), they work hard to hide that smile of accomplishment.

Some of the guys are just too old to spend their Saturday doing this. I believe that if you are still riding a skateboard in your late twenties, you need to examine your life.

Two young men sit down, light cigarettes, and proudly show each other scars. Two more play Twister on the painted concrete game board (that really seems out of place). The rest skate and ollie their way past hordes of tourists trying to cross the bridge o Petite Francaise.

Summer Beds 2007

Here are the places we slept in this summer from June-August:

Portland: Eric and Maria
Bellevue: Lela and Al
Portland: Summer rental
Rockaway Beach: Linman/Matz place
Denver: Kirk and Sherry
Milwaukie: Summer house swap
Clackamas: John & Tressa
Cannon Beach: hotel
Las Vegas: MGM Grand
Portland: Ramada Inn
Chicago: Hilton

It was nice to return to our bed in Wiesbaden!

Chicago

On the way back to Germany, we stopped in Chicago for a few days. It was our first time outside of the airport. We had a good time, but I'll take NYC any day.



I think I was one of the first to try to capture the cityscape in the distorted mirror reflection.

Recreating Wilco

Here's my best attempt at recreating the Wilco cover art for Yankee Hotel Foxtrot.


See the original here

I've Been There!

create your own visited country map
or check our Venice travel guide

My Name in Lights

From a recent school visit to Adana, Turkey.

A Story Waiting to Be Written

What could I possibly add to this layout?

A Short Clip from the Wilco Concert

Mcplorers

Pisa, etc., originally uploaded by roncoia.

Taken in the Pisa train station.

One of these explorers just doesn't belong. If your name ends with "the Hun," chances are you aren't look for mere trade routes.

Aslan's Backpack

Aslan's Backpack, originally uploaded by roncoia.

Aslan got a new backpack for Christmas. There are two cans of olives inside for weight.

It seems to focus her on walks. The Dog Whisperer taught us this trick.

I like it because of the resemblance to a superhero.

Cinque Terra Pictures

May this be yet another reason to visit Europe (we should, of course, be your primary reason!). Cinque Terra is perhaps the most unique, interesting, and beautiful place we have visited thus far in Europe.

See the Cinque Terra Pictures

Trouble in Monterosso

We went to a small trattoria in Monterosso for a drink and a bite after arriving. This place was half full, so it wasn't a problem getting a table. They advertised , "No Cuperto," a silly cover charge of about $3 each that most places in Italy charge. We sat asnd I ordered three glasses of wine for us. I asked how big the pizza was ("Che cosa e la dimenzione per la pizza?"), and she showed me with her hands. I ordered the margherita. She asked, "Three?" I said, "No, solo uno." "Only for you?" Kristie answered, "To share." The waitress clicked and tsked her tongue the way a nun does in Catholic school when she finds a boy hiding a girlie magazine. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. No, you must order all." She walked away without more discussion on the matter. The three of us sat and stared at each other. We got up and left feeling embarrassed and angry. I wished that I had least knocked a glass over in my rage. That would have showed her.

If I knew more Italian, I'd go back to express my displeasure at her treatment of us. Then, I'd throw a glass and run quickly towards to sea.

Wedding Vows

In Corneglia, Cinque Terra.

We had three macchiatos and three paninis. Kristie got mad at me because I unknowingly took the best part of her panini.

I guess "to have and to hold" in the wedding vows do not apply to a sandwich.

Lunch at Vecchio Firenza

It's a grand room with colorful paintings. It must be listed in an Asian guidebook, because we are one of the few Anglos in here. Asians kept coming out of what seemed like the kitchen area like clowns from a circus car.

At a Florence Cafe

I'm standing at a bar having a cappuccino and croissant like a real Italian. The men come in for a shot of espresso (they order a "cafe"). The barista is a 40-year-old man, quite different from the Starbucks teenagers manning an espresso machine. The first woman since I've been in here walks in dressed in black to match her dark hair and dark eyes. The men fawn over her and she smiles. She carefully sips instead of the usual gulping I've seen. Two of the men talk in elevated tones, and it sounds like rhythmic arguing. The place is full of morning people seeking fuel and a quick social interaction. Perhaps this is the Italian equivalent to Cheers, only if Norm gulped his beer in two quick sips.

We all are standing at the bar, even though there are tables. Why is this such a standing culture? The barista asks if I'd like another, and I say yes, although it seems like I am the only one doubling up on a drink. A few more women come in, but they don't create the same fanfare that the dark-haired one did.

While the constant stream of patrons continue, the same man talks to Mario or Luigi at the dolci bar. Each seems to be in a good mood, although it's difficult to see how one could be in a sour mood with opera-like cadence, wide smiles, and caffeine.

I'm back to thinking that I want to move to Italy. I know the tourist experience is different than the resident one, but I do love this experience.

The name of this place is Cafe Porta Rossa. I want to ask the barista's name, but that could sound strange.

I think that it's time to go, as I'm only taking up space, both at the bar and in this entry.

My Favorite Florence Picture

Florence 2007
Originally uploaded by macron

A picture from the Ponte Vecchio. I think this rivals Kristie's photos, but don't tell her that I said that!

More of my photos from Florence can be found HERE