Nomad Travel Variety Spot

I just was watching the Travel channel a bit, where I have been seriously turned on to Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations. It has a great mix of his own irreverent personality, unusual (to the "normal" American traveller) locales, and a solid yin yang pairing of experiences accessible to the "average" traveller and then also those more privileged, which are not as accessible. Those are worthwhile however because they aren't just expensive, overpriced, touristy stuff - he gets those parts of the experiences because of who he is, and who he knows - something any networking nomad can aspire to. He also takes a keen and interested eye to the underlying cultural activity and the social ties that give his destinations their soul. Rather than review hotels and restaurants, he opens the door to understanding more about those peculiar things which make travellers enjoy their life out of their homes.

Tonight however was Samantha Brown, whose show was much more for the upper-middle-class tourist who has money to spend and isn't terribly afraid to not spend that extra hour finding those deals - stay in that nicer hotel, eat at that more expensive restaurant, do that touristy thing. I remarked to Shaun and Bryan, "Why isn't there a travel show by nomads, for nomads - shoestring budgets, hostels and camping, talking your way into and out of memorable situations?" They responded with something about an old Lonely Planet show. I dunno, though - I want to see a brave nomad combine their travelling with the lifecasting skillz of such personalities as iJustine, and show the world that you can change your life and experience culture abroad as long as you have the money to get there, and that's it. I doubt I could be that person, but hey, I'd watch the show.

I ate very healthy in the last three days.

The answer to the answer-man

My plans to take on a padawan to become a new nomad have been scuttled - for now. The moriae can keep my sister away from the world outside Alabama, but they can't keep the world away from my sister. The skills will be passed on when they will.

Today was the 30th anniversary of Star Wars, the great mythology of our time and for our time. I watched The Star Wars Holiday Special, generally considered to be the two worst hours of television ever produced. You both need to watch it and need to avoid it - all great mysteries are painful dichotomies.

I have always been interested in the archetype of the ship upon the sea. It was quite pronounced when I was in Gandia, where the Erasmus students and a small smattering of pensioners were the only inhabitants during an 18-degree January (that's Celsius, 'mericans) and the port was right there, beautiful, inviting, and playing the strings of latent mysticism. There's something fascinating about getting on a ship on the river and/or ocean and having it like being on a road that takes you to anywhere around the world. I think I would have been quite fine as a ship captain back in the auld days of exploration. My current dream - the absolute greatest gift that anyone could ever get me, no exceptions - would be a dirigible, preferably in a configuration kind of like what they used in Final Fantasy VI. Around the concept - I don't remember if it was Dave or Shaun - was created the phrase "Dirigible Pirates of the Sky." Talks about creating a concept musical act continue.

I am forging my future for my greatest tasks - the German conference, IC, and research abroad - and it's a heavy but giddy load. I balance it with going to a bodega with Vidar for some San Miguel Extra "Nostrum." It was only €1,40 per caña. That's a good price for a pretty good beer. Others went to bingo tonight, they did not contact me. I'm glad, mostly. More important things, like watching the two worst hours of television ever produced.

I must ask, where the hell is the hope from the pre-9/11 days? I'm talking of course about pre-9/11 music, which is personified (or at least "flagshipped") by the Verve song "Bittersweet Symphony." You all remember it, and when you listen to it today, you'll realize just how much our culture has changed around that date. If you still have wax in your heart and mind and brain, then you might want to run not walk over to this webshite.

If you want hot wings, you go to the Anchor Bar (unless it's Jefferson's of course). If you want slow-smoked pork ribs, you go to Dreamland. If it's horchata you're after, you go to Daniel in Alboraia - which is where I went today after Pepe, Davinia, and I had szechuan chicken en casa and I remarked on the horchata de mierda in the fridge, when they recommended we hightail it about three kilometers to the north to the mecca of chufas. I had the most delicious horchata that probably exists, a mixta which is kind of ice on the verge of melting like a slush-formation, with fartons made on-site and warm. I'll definitely return before I exit the Kingdom, but if you find yourself stumbling into the Comunitat, make a stop-off at this Ka'aba of Xufa.

I'm currently on the fence about it, but I'm pretty sure I'll take the plunge to attend the Primavera Sound festival in Barcelona; a quick glance at the lineup will reveal why. Then it's my only test and the adventure of June.

Lady finger, dipped in moonlight, writing "What for?" across the morning sky,
Sunlight splatters, dawn with answer, darkness shrugs and bids the day goodbye.

In the Dam, for the weekend...

Amsterdam was a great time. I flew in and met Jeremy and Mischa at Schiopol airport at about six in the evening on Thursday, and Mischa in his extremely hospitable way bought our train tickets and gave us a large, well-worn map and showed us exactly how to get to his flat in the Jordaan district. This didn't keep us from going too far and making it to the Central Station, but with our handy-dandy map we were able to make it to Best Thai restaurant, where we enjoyed quality Thai food in the company of AIESECers and trainees alike. Jeremy made it to his hotel smack-dab in the middle of the Red Light District, well-located indeed.

The next day Jeremy and I did the tourist thing in the Dam, going to the Rijksmuseum (disappointing because they are renovating the main hall until 2010 - at Jeremy's suggestion we would have just stood and waited until 2010 came), experienced gezelligheid at a cozy koffe huis with a canal view (what DOESN'T have a canal view in the right part of the Dam?), and wandering the Red Light District both during the night and the day. What an odd piece of the world it is. I support the purpose of the Dutch policy on the Red Light Districts (which are not just in Amsterdam) and it is very interesting to see the actuality of nearly-naked women (slightly over half of whom are attractive) tapping their all-glass window and enticing you to pay their rent. But there are also the many prostitutes who sit at their stools, bored and unsmiling, which quickly washes away the novelty and boyish grinning one would associate with such a place and replaces it with a feeling of mixed sympathy, slight discomfort, and a sincere understanding of the phrase "Not In My Backyard." Add in the fast-walking immigrants who mutter "coke, ecstasy" as you pass by, and De Wallen is not exactly the headiest district in town.

The next day was the excellent AIESEC Amsterdam reception weekend. We started the day off adventurously touring the city on a contraption called a "Stepbike," which is essentially a scooter but with the wheel orientation and size of a bicycle - so you stand in the middle and use one foot to push off. Since it's closer to a bicycle's construction, the stepbikes allow you to go about two-thirds as fast as you could on a bicycle, making for hilarious hijinks along the canals as we zipped around in masses of twenty, imploring me to hum "The Ride of the Valkyries." We stopped in the middle for a gezellig time having a beer on the corner of a canal. That night they pulled out the big guns as we had a dinner and a few hours of pre-party in the upstairs room of Café Heffer, where the LC has their meetings. That is amazing. Then it was off to the crown jewel - a boat party. Best reception weekend _planning_ ever (Mountain Mayhem still struggles for best event ever). And as a major cool bonus, I met their LCP Jaan - based on the fact that he went to high school in Guntersville for a year. Really nice guy, and he appreciates and knows North Alabama.

On Sunday we went to the Heineken Museum, which is a cool experience, but we were unable to go to the Van Gogh museum due to time constraints. I'll definitely return to Amsterdam sometime in the future though, so there's always then.

The most important thing I learned, though, was after I'd been back in Spain for a couple hours. I had the mentality, due to my long weekends and the fact that being in Europe is far from being in the US, that I should see as much of Europe as I can. However, a minor culture shock upon my return to Spain led to a small amount of regret that I had left at all. I saw and did some cool things in Amsterdam for a few days, but the value of what I experience in Spain is so much heavier and important than jetsetting and not being really a part of that culture. As Pepe's girlfriend Davinia said, "Puedes ver mucho, pero conocer nada (You can see a lot, but understand nothing)." That's the concise truth, and it's one that I will commit to with a new appreciation. With the exception of next weekend's trip to Roma to visit my mother and sister, and my trip to Romania for ITC (Hooray!), P. Rhea will be sticking around Spain to savor the culture that abounds. At least until June opens up.