Mine is Bigger than Yours (7/17)

As if the Holy Grail and a saint’s arm weren’t enough for one trip, in Alicante we are treated to a visit from one of the world’s elite yachts. The super wealthy (i.e., the sultans who own their own country and computer geeks) compete for bragging rights of who has the biggest yacht on the high seas (usually the Mediterranean or Caribbean). One of the largest, the Al Said, is docked in Alicante.

The Al Said is the second longest super (mega, giga, luxury, etc.) yacht at 155m. Costing in excess of $500 million dollars, you can almost hear Tim “the Toolman” Taylor (ABC’s Home Improvement) grunt his approval. Owned by Sultan Qaboos (Sultan Qābūs ibn Saˤīd ibn Taymūr Āl Bū Saˤīdī, for short) of Oman, only the Sheikh of Dubai has a bigger toy at 160m in length.

However, a more accurate measure of a yacht’s size is its gross tonnage, or its volume. Historically, the taxation on a ship’s cargo was based on tuns (casks) of wine, and such a measure was later used in reference to the weight of a ship’s cargo. However, not to be confused with displacement (i.e., the actual weight of a vessel), gross “tonnage” specifically refers to the volume of a ship. Further, we can quickly get wrapped up in messy calculations such as gross register tonnage, net register tonnage, and Panama Canal/Universal Measurement System (or PC UMS net ton). Clearly, such calculations are difficult to manage after a few beers and, thus, make them ill-suited for the gentlemanly bar argument of who has the biggest yacht.

License to Chill (7/14)

Grooving to the tunes of Jimmy Buffet on my iPod, I boarded the Kon Tiki Quatro for the 60-minute trip to Isla de Tabarca, a nearby island. Tabarca was once a staging area for pirates making plans to plunder the Costa Blanca. The dark grey clouds and gusts of wind at the marina suggested I take the trip another day. However, after baking in my Alicante apartment for the past two weeks, I thought some chilly weather might feel good.

Once outside the shelter of the marina, the wind blasted the Kon Tiki as waves slammed into its port side. Wallowing commenced, as the boat rolled side-to-side with each passing swell. Below decks, it was a barf-fest. The crew seemed to anticipate this and gave clear plastic bags to many passengers. Me, I would have opted for the “no-see” type of bag. One poor woman had the plastic bag over her nose and mouth. She didn’t look like she was having fun. In fact, she didn’t move much at all. Happily wedged between a chair and a rail topside, I tried to take some pictures, but the camera couldn’t focus quick enough with the boat rolling.

Shaped like an hourglass, Tabarca is a small island, only 1800 meters long and 400 meters wide. I was already wondering how I would spend five hours here before the Kon Tiki returned. I started with a quick tour of town. The usual restaurants, bars, gift shops, a few hostels, and more private residences than I first thought formed the hub of the town. Unpaved mainstreet (below) didn’t strike me as too lively on a Monday morning.

On the other side of the island is the protected marine sanctuary where I headed as darker clouds blew in. The path around the perimeter of the island is obvious and can be completed in a leisurely hour. Besides the rugged coast, the Tower of Saint Peter (described as a chopped-off pyramid), a defunct lighthouse, and a mostly rubble house were the points of interest.

At the far tip of the island is a cemetary. Makes sense: where do you stash the dead bodies? As far away as possible. And, that’s where I was when the rain and wind hit – - as far away from shelter as possible. The wind whipped the spray from the crashing surf and raked it right across the small island. I snugged up to the leeward side of the cemetary wall. At least it kept my back dry. I wouldn’t have been opposed to snuggling up next to a grave marker for shelter, but the cemetary was locked. The rain and wind didn’t let up, so I decided to take a walk in the rain. It was pleasant having cool rain dripping off my nose for once, instead of sweat. Less pleasant was the red clay, turned silly putty, caking onto my Keens. (I’ve happily switched alligence from Teva to Keen footwear.)

Once back in town after a short walk in the rain (remember, small island), I took shelter in an arched entrance and read while the wind quickly dried my quick-dry clothes. With another four hours to kill, I took a few more laps around the island. On my last loop, behind the cemetary, I found this bench right at the waterline. A perfect place for a self portrait.

Back @ Home 4 Lisa

Well, I managed to make it home safe and sound after a high speed train adventure, the metro, getting lost (again) trying to find my hotel, and a super long flight home.  The train was really nice and pretty fast, but nothing like what was in Mission Impossible.  The seats were comfy and plenty of leg room.  Yes, I got lost again looking for my hotel, only proving that I really am directionally challenged.  Oh well, I did find it eventually.  I just wanted to say ‘Hi!’ and post a few pics we had taken on my camera.  Sounds like Roger is still having many more adventures on his own.  Cool stuff!!

Note to Hulk: No Going Bare-Chested (7/13)

Leaving centuries old religious relics and basilicas, a twenty-minute bus ride delivered us to the very modern Ciudad de las Artes y las Ciencias (The City of Arts and Sciences). Here C-3PO and R2-D2 would seem right at home. Looking like a set from the 70s TV show Logan’s Run, the City of Arts and Sciences is a living city in more than one way. Designed by Valencia-born and internationally famous architect Santiago Calatrava, each building is inspired by a living creature: a turtle, a shark, and a whale’s backbone. More buildings are on their way, with completion of the ”city within a city” slated for 30 years in the future.  

Resembling a turtle or a giant floating eyeball, the “Hemesferic” (above) features a planetarium and IMAX theater. Watching a laser light show with a Pink Floyd soundtrack would definitely be a trip at this planetarium.

 

The Palau de les Arts Reina Sofia (above), or Palace of the Arts, hosts a variety of opera, dance, theater, and classical music performances. Does this bring back memories of JAWS?

 

Construction of a public plaza (above) is underway in the distance. What creature does this remind you of? A scorpian tail?

 

The Principe Felipe Science Museum (above) invokes images of a giant whale backbone or a collapsed T-Rex, whichever you imagine, it’s big and it’s cool looking. Inside is a hands-on science center where kids (and adults) can take an active part in discovering the laws of science. The “block and tackle” exhibit (below) is typical of the exhibits. Rigged with a different number of pulleys, participants can try lifting a heavy anchor, with varying degrees of success.

 

When I visited the science museum, two special exhibits where on display. The top floor of the museum was devoted to the life of women, from conception to death. For example, they had a display of a teenage girl’s bedroom, complete with Avril Lavigne posters and clothes strewn everywhere. Later, I encountered not one but two walk-through vaginas. Only in Europe. One was an giant inflatable vagina, and I’m not sure what the point was, except to get visitors from one lifestage to the next. The other walk-through vagina was a bit more sophisticated. Depicting conception, you could walk towards a pulsing egg, surrounded by a million sperm making the same journey. Got to give the curators props for a memorable visual of conception. I can only imagine what these same curators would design if they built ”Man, the Exhibit.”

Although the Woman Exhibit was memorable, the Marvel Superheroes exhibit stole the show. The Incredible Hulk smashing a car greeted you. Visitors could also pose with Spiderman, Captain America, Iron Man, and Storm. Other displays featured the artwork from the various comics.  

Missing was Aquaman, my favorite superhero. Of course, Aquaman along with Justice League standouts Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Flash, Green Lantern, the Martian Manhunter, Green Arrow, Atom, Hawkman, Black Canary, Captain Marvel, and Plastic Man are creations of DC Comics and weren’t invited to the party.

The son of a lighthouse keeper and Atlanna, a water-breathing outcast from the lost, underwater city of Atlantis, Aquaman would have liked Oceanografico. The Oceanografico (the biggest aquarium in Europe) is home to 45,000 creatures representing 500 different species from all the world’s seas and oceans. Above ground Oceanografico (below) is dominated by placid blue pools ringing the entrances to the nine underwater towers and submerged aquariums.

The most impressive feature of the complex are its two underground tunnels (70 and 35 meters, respectively) These tunnels allow visitors to walk among the sea creatures, offering views to the left and the right as well as overhead (above). As close to swimming with the sharks as you can get without visiting Amity Island.

Along with the typical theme-park signage of “do not feed the animals” and “no flash photography,” I did see the rule “It is not permitted to go bare-chested.” I wonder who is going to tell the Incredible Hulk that?

Holy Grail, Batman (7/12)

My throat parched like a Crusader retaking the Holy Land, I went in search of the Holy Grail in Valencia. Not THE Holy Grail, the one Indiana Jones found, but a simple cup of cola light with ICE. If I wanted an entire salted leg of ham, I could easily find one on every block, I just couldn’t carry it very far. Finding a cold soda with ice–not a warm can of soda poured over two brittle flakes but a thirsty-two ouncer filled with real cubes of wonderfully cold ice –is quite a chore and worthy of a Crusade. I found a soda machine, but it was out of product.

Down into the old river bed, which is now a beautiful park, I marched. The city rerouted the river around the city a while ago. The river kept overflowing its banks in the spring and then fell stagnant in the summer, creating an awful stench.

I finally stumbled upon a Burger King. It was next to a store specializing in giant bongs and indoor growing systems for “oregeno.” To my dismay, I watched the staff pour soda from warm two-litter bottles of pop, no ice. Apparently, the soda dispenser and ice machine did not work at this location. Sheesh. I kept looking for cold soda and found bats instead.

The bat is the symbol of Valencia. Consequently, the architectural flourishes are a bit more interesting than the standard saint statue here in Valencia. According to legend, with the Christians laying seige to the Muslim held city, a bat showed the Crusaders a passge into the city and to victory.

Today, I thought the bats were resting on their laurels a bit too much. The fly cloud buzzing around me in the river park needed to be thined. The bat also serves as a pretty cool logo for the city’s soccer team. Team color? Orange, of course: Valencia orange groves ring the city.

I ate lunch at the Valencia Central Market. It’s very similar to Alicante’s market. I found a mediterranean deli inside and picked up some hummus, fresh tortillas, basmati rice, and hefty marinated, stuffed artichoke hearts.

Next up was a quick walk through the city’s first public building, a bank of sorts, with cool spiral columns. The spirals would serve as inspiration for a very famous Valencia architect, but that story is for tomorrow’s blog.

I never did find that cola light with ice, but I did find the REAL Holy Grail. I know you’re thinking, “WHOA, I saw Indiana Jones battles the Nazis for it, and then it was lost.” That’s just Hollywood, duh. The real Holy Grail is in Valencia and hundreds of thousands pilgrims visit it each year. No kidding. I was shocked to find it tucked away in a small sideroom of the city’s cathederal. It’s amazing:

I also found Saint Vincent’s arm (a religious relic) stashed behind the altar pictured above.

This was just a bit creepy. Because I’m reading Dan Brown’s Angels & Demons right now, I just knew that there must be all sorts of things hidden in this cathedral. However, we had to board the bus and head for La Ciudad de las Artes y las Ciencias (The City of Arts and Sciences). There I’d see penguins, meet the Incredible Hulk, and walk through a giant vagina.

Oh, The Places We’ll (Not) Go (7/11)

Today, I realized I took Lisa to the really lame places in Alicante. She saw the vacant outlet mall; I shopped in a four-story mall . She saw faux sunglasses, suckling pig on a stick, and a topless grandma; I saw a centuries old Greek merchant ship and a few skeletons. This will teach her to let me play travel guide.

The day started with me walking across the street to the Central Market to buy some more fruit and veggies. I spent some time wondering around the fresh seafood area, drawn by a morbid curiosity of all the dead sea life for sale. The seafood market is kind of like a Sea World Cemetary. At Sea World you get to look at lots of sea life you usually don’t get to (or want to) see up close. At the market, it is the same thing, except it’s all dead and you can take it home. I strolled among a variety of fish and squishy things. Stopping to watch a fisherman heft a huge tuna onto the cutting board and take a big swing at it (a sharp knife and strong arm is required to cut through the backbone), I was sprayed with fish guts and scales. It’s experiences like this you just can’t put a price on. Then, the police asked for my identification. Out of the hundreds of people milling about, I somehow was deemed a person of interest, again. Obviously, I am a lot less respectable looking without Lisa around. Out came the creased photocopy of my passport. This seemed to satisfy them and they moved on, perhaps, to get away from the fish guts.

Cleaned up, with iPod in hand, I headed for the MARQ (Museo Arqueologico Provincial de Alicante). About a twenty-minute walk from the apartment, the MARQ is an award-winning museum (Best European Museum Award in 2004). Luis, the resident USAC director, had recommended we visit this museum. However, Lisa and I decided not to. Someone (I’ll blame a student) had described it as a regional museum. This brought images of our own Boise Historical Museum: a few wagon wheels, a stuffed deer with mange, and slightly disturbing wax mannequins of Lewis and Clark. So, we passed on the MARQ. Our mistake.

The MARQ is one of the best museums I have visited. Arranged around a central core are eight themed halls, each focusing on a specific period of history in the region: Middle Ages, Roman Culture, Prehistoric, etc. Each room has just the right amount of artifacts, including very modern CGI movies, sceneries, full-scale diaramas, and interactive displays. In the Roman Culture hall, for example, one wall displayed a CGI looping panorama of a day at the Roman bathhouse. However, with slightly odd images of guys taking their clothes off in the changing room and splashing water on each other, it did nothing to dispell the sterotype of bathhouses.

One odd element (as if the CGI bathhouse wasn’t) is that you can’t backtrack. That is, once you leave a hall you must keep going to the next hall, and then out the exit. Once I finished the last hall, the Contemporary Culture Room, I wanted to go back to look at the shipwreck diarama again. I made it only a few steps and a guard appeared. I instinctively reached for my photocopied passport; however, in perfect English she tells me that if I want to return to an earlier hall, I had to exit the museum and reenter at the start. Odd, but OK. Overall, the quality of the exhibits, layout, and up-to-date use of technology earns this museum a 10 out of 10. And, I am not just giving this museum a good review because I got in FREE (finally, a perk for being a professor).

According the map, the Centro Commercial Plaza Mar 2 is nearby. We had seen it from the Tram on our way to Playa San Juan last week. The Centro Commercial Plaza Mar 2 looked like a big mall. It’s only a 10 minute walk from the MARQ. Yes, it’s a four-story retail mall, just like you find in the U.S. A few differences though. Wandering in and out of stores, I rounded an aisle and WHOA, that’s a huge …and those are …I found the adult sex shop. Also, the escalators do not have steps but instead are slanted conveyer belts (like the walkways at airports). Finally, the Alicante version of Wal-Mart (it’s huge, running the whole length of the mall) has security people at the entrances. Before entering, you must place everything bigger than a wallet–purses, backpacks, bags, etc–in a plastic bag, which is then heat sealed and handed back to you. I wonder how this would go over in the U.S.: imagine a Wal-Mart greeter with giant shrink wrap machine. Otherwise, the mall is fairly typical, except perhaps, an over abundance of shoe stores and coffee shops. Lisa would have loved it.

Graffiti (7/10)

Most flat surfaces below 3 meters are covered with graffiti in Alicante, even in the “nice” barrios. The only structures avoided by the street artists are the cathederals and the Tram. The taggers probably realize the bad juju (think Spanish inquisition) they would incur if they tagged a holy place. The Tram is either too new or too much effort when free concrete canvas abounds above ground.

Most buildings look like the below picture. Behind the metal blinds could be a sex shop or a Rolex dealer; curb appeal doesn’t seem to matter.

 

Occasionally, the taggers create a coherent “work.”

Some places seem off limits, if the existing art is nice enough. This building, surrounded by heavily graffitied buildings, is untouched. It might be protected by the lady bugs. Notice the really cool third-floor deck and garden.

 

Here’s another building protected by lady bugs.

 

I’m not sure who is doing the graffiti in Alicante. I don’t see (to my untrained tourista eyes) any evidence of thugs hanging around the street corners with spray cans in their hands nor do I notice any consistent symbols or words indicating someone’s territory.

Occasionally, the graffiti is pretty good. Below Humprey Bogart keeps watch along the path to the Castillo de Santa Barbara for Ingrid Bergman.

“I wonder, O, wall, that you have not fallen in ruins from supporting the stupidities of so many scribblers.”

-- graffiti from Pompeii

Lisa Leaves Me Standing at the Train Station (7/9)

On Lisa’s last morning, we packed up her suitcase and then went to the central market to replenish my fruit and veggie supply and search for the elusive souvenir t-shirt for one of Lisa’s girls. Alicante is a tourist town. However, it is easier to find a 6000 E Rolex and 5000 E wedding gown than it is to find a souvenir t-shirt. It is: only bars and kebap restaurants out number the jewelry, dress, and shoes stores in Alicante. Lisa finally found one hanging high in a nic-nac booth at the market. Meanwhile, I was too distracted by the skinned bunny carcases (with eyes) stacked in the meat cases. It takes a strong stomach in the morning to walk past the meat cases on the way to the fruit and veggie booths.

Later we went in search of a rollo kebab for lunch around 1200. Opening and closing times for businesses in Alicante are more guidelines than rules. Our favorite (i.e., cheap and good) for a kebab sandwhich is Kebap El Barrio. Unforunately, the outdoor chairs were missing and the metal garage door was closed. No signage was posted with its hours. Hungry and not knowing when or if it would ever open again, we tried our second favorite spot: Kebap Turco. Based on the sign, it was supposed to be open but wasn’t. Back up the street to Kebap Sultan, an untried place. It was open, luckily for our hungry stomachs. The rollos we tried were some of the best so far. “Sultan” prepared each meticulously with fresh lettuce, cabbage, tomatoes, onions, fallalfel, and salsa blanca or rojo. Then, each rollo was grilled in a “george-foreman” grill. Tasty.

A twenty-minute walk took us to the Alicante train station where Lisa would depart for Madrid and then on to Amsterdam and, finally, Merdian, Idaho. A double, nonfat milky way coffee, with just a little ice, would be waiting for her, as well as the much anticipated AIR CONDITIONING and a comfortable bed.

The train station was pretty straight forward. Each passenger had to have all bags scanned by a metal detector. Good in theory, but once the passengers pass through “security” just a thin rope separates them from the boyfriends, girlfriends, pickpockets, well-wishers, and parents seeing them off. If so inclined, such a person could easily just hand the passenger some banned item (say, a RPG launcher) before they made their way to the train. Obviously, I looked like a terrorist and was eyeing this rope too closely. While waiting for Lisa’s train to depart, two police officers came up and asked for my identification (a well-creased photocopy of my passport was produced) and then asked, I think, what I was doing in the train station. Me not speaking much espanol and them not speaking much English, I tried to explain I was just waiting around for my girlfriend’s train to depart. Isn’t that how it works in the old movies? The remaining person waves as the train slowly departs. They most likely heard, “blixta blumpasnort gootr Lisa blah blah zvega moo kuy.” Two more officers, for a total of four, were now interested in me. I don’t know what they said, but I figured they didn’t like me loitering in the train station.

Back at the apartment it was empty and quiet without Lisa around. I caught up on some email, did some cleaning, organized the five items of food in the cupboard, drank cola light, finished a book, surfed the Internet, and tried to determine the optimal placement and angle for the fan.

Another Tuesday in Alicante

Hola, I have to leave for Madrid en la manana, so Roger will have to take over the blogging.  You may see more professional entries from the expert, but I do have to admit this is pretty fun.  Today was a very fantastico culinary day for us in Alicante.  Because I will be leaving and we have avoided the temptation thus far, we finally went to the Churreria below the apt and had churros and chocolate.  OMG!!!  Talk about yummy breakfast!  They just pour hot chocolate (not the drink, but a chocolate type sauce) into a coffee cup and serve it with churros.  Then you dip away and can drink or eat the chocolate after you devour the churros.  Seems more like a dessert, but it is served a lot for breakfast!

After churros, we braved the bus to the University for Roger’s class.  I actually held my tongue today and didn’t try to participate too much, except to adjust the A/C.  It was really nice to sit in a room with A/C for almost 2 hours!!  You don’t know what you are missing until you go without it for awhile.  We took some pictures where I look a little goofy posing with alien cactus.  We came home and made our own tapas from pepinillos, green olives, and pringles.  Yummy.

For the evening, we went back to Austin for some drinks before dinner.  We tried a Capriahni-which was very tasty-but we don’t really know what is in it.  We then explored the streets in search of dining options.  We rounded an unfamiliar corner and happened upon a charming little Indian restaurant called Shiik II.  The people were extremely friendly and even spoke fluent English.  We ate what the owner recommended and everything was excellent.  The samosas and tamarind chutney were out of this world!  So was the rest of the meal.  We also met a very nice family on holdiay who currently lived in Sweden, but were originally from Bangladesh.  Good times, good times. 

Roger and I then walked around the Esplanade and headed for the hot apt.  The experience of ’living’ in a different culture is a great life experience, and very different from just travelling on vacation.  Two big things to remember if you ever come to Europe:  alway go in to the bathroom stall that has a handle on the inside so you can actually leave the bathroom and don’t believe what the internet or newspapers tell you about the temperature!

Lunes-Crazy Bus Day

We did get up earlier today and decided we would try to go to a mall, since all of the stores are having rebajas (sales) at this time.  We tried walking to a bus stop to go to a mall outside of town, but we walked in one big circle as the bus route was interrupted by the tram construction through the middle of town.  We had seen a mall by the university and decided to go there.  We happily hopped on the bus and about 2 miles down the road the busdriver slammed on the brakes and t-boned at very small car.  While the bus was slamming on the brakes, the unsuspecting passengers toppled like dominoes on top of each other when all came to a stop.  Luckily, we were holding on to the rails and just watched the dominoes fall.  Luckily no one was injured badly, just smushed.  The traffic was completely blocked in about three directions and because the drivers really like to honk here, the horns were blaring.  We stayed on the bus-not wanting to have to pay for another bus fare-then followed the crowd to the next stop, hopped on another bus, and crammed in.  This time, we got front row seats of the driving.  No accidents on that bus, but if you ever decide to travel here, do not drive yourself around.  Crazy drivers!!

We made it to the outlet mall, walked through and thought ‘this is it’?  Most of the shops and restaurants were closed.  The mall was nice and clean, but unfortunately not well attended.  We weren’t sure if it was because of the economy or some other reason.  I did find a cute pair of shoes for only 6E, so all was well.  Then we got back on the bus to go home.  Lo and behold, not 2 minutes on the bus and he slammed on his brakes, and luckily, the bus stopped before hitting the car in front of us.  We made it back to the apt and walked the rest of the day.

After making some dinner and drinking some cola-light, we decided to go walking around to try to find a t-shirt or souvenir shop.  We walked everywhere and found plenty of shoes (zapatos), purses (bolos), jewelry (joyeria), and expensive clothing stores, but no t-shirt shops.  Clearly these stores are meant for the wealthy tourists visiting here.  Each store is having rebajas or sales right now, but the Euro to dollar exchange doesn’t make buying clothing a deal, even with a sale.  There are plenty of souvenirs on the Esplanade to purchase, as mentioned earlier this week, but I was looking for an Espana soccer t-shirt and didn’t find one.  Hopefully the airport may have one.