Lacey’s Stuff

Monday, May 15, 2006

The Portugese Way, Lost, Stupid–but oh so fun!! When you are paying $50 a night for a room, you find it an absolute must to get $50 worth of value and use. And, yeah, when walking everyday for over 30 days– doing absolutly nothing sounds like a fabulous idea. On our 2nd day in Porto, D and I could be found laying in bed, in our glourious hotel room. Dani had bought a Bill Bryson book (the one where he takes 6 weeks or so to hike the Appalachian Trail) and was reading it aloud to me. There was a part that I could relate to: walking is an addiction. Some people get addicted to being on the trail and don’t want to or can’t stop. This is me. More than 2 days in one place, stagnant and not moving forward was making my feet itch. I was becoming bored and ansi and yearning to go more. Day dreaming of doing the camino forever and getting a jump start from Dani’s reading, I mentioned, "We could do another camino…" "Yeah, we could," she replies. We were aligned– the addiction had gotten her as well. We cut our stay in Porto short. [Though, Porto: We love you. Always and forever.] But, first, one very important mission before we go: Lacey needs new shoes. I am not so sure it is common, in Portugal, to be a female athlete. For, my options were very limited. My shoes are old school, black, Reebox, service shoes. The kind of shoes lunch ladies wear. They are incredibly sexy. I spent the first day back on the camino alternating between new shoes, old shoes, and flip flops. The method worked marvelously. The start of our Camino. The Portugese Way was flawless. The yellow arrows and scallop shells were a plenty—– and then—we got lost. We ended up climbing a massive mountain. At the top and close to death, we realized, "this isn¨t right". Okay. Let´s just hop on the road and take it north. No problem. So, we walk. Dani (aka Dr. DooLittle) communes with goats and cows. Cute boys ride their horses. It turns out that we are in the poshy posh countryside where handsome men with perfect posture ride beautiful horses (to the bar even). Everything is grand. "Now, that we are on the road we will be there in no time!" Of course when we come upon a little bar on a hillside we stop. Rule of thumb: Stop at every bar you see when walking in the middle of no where. Consume. Ask for directions. Relax. Because you never know when you will see one again. At the bar a series of events happen: 1. Tourists. Pilgrims. Girls don’t come here often. So we were a show. All the old men were staring, the children in awe (and yes, the children hang out in the bar) 2. We order vino tinto and it is delivered to us in ceramic bowls and tasted like shit. It amazes me that I didn´t end up covered in the stuff. 3. The town drunk is very fascinated by us. He attempts to speak french, then german and when that doesn´t work, he begins to sing and dance. 4. We ask how to get to Porrino (our destination) and find out that we walked nearly 20km out of the way and will have to walk another 17km to get there…and it is getting dark. I stuff my mouth with french fries as if I am going out into the wild, never to return, never to find food or shelter again. Or, as if I am going to the summit. We say goodbye to the old men, the kids, our drunkard and wearily start on our way. 30 seconds later Penelope Cruz walks up, a beautiful Spanish girl who speaks english. Her help was redundant, though. "Oh..you have a long way to walk." Thanks. We are walking and I am telling Dani that since we are in this rich, affluent countryside, someone just needs to pick us up and drive us to Porrino. Only moments later a Mercedes pulls up and I know my prayers have been answered. A happy spanish man who knows where we are going (we think Penelope told him), offers us a ride. I walk to the car and Dani says "Dude, we´re gonna die". So, this point, I’ll take my chances: Mercedes ride the next 17km or walk until midnight—– death is a mere detail in this situation. We arrived safe and sound. Slept 11 hours, woke up and got lost all over again the next day! More unneccessary uphill and near death by car experiences. But, we made it. And when I saw the scallop shell for the first time again– I thought about falling to my knees in the name of Allah (that one´s for you D)– but, instead, I let Dani do the thanking by kissing and groping the scallop shell with her hands!! Now, we are on track– I hope. I smell pretty awful and have resorted to a raisin only diet– lovin it!!! Ciao!

Portugal Rocks!!!

We spent the day wandering around the city. It is very old and antigue. All the buildings are covered in beautiful, colorful patterned tiles with iron balconies. It is definitly a feast for the eyes.

We made it to trendy center… bought some anti-pilgrim clothes and instantly felt cute again and ready to hit the town.

We wandered down tho the Port district along the canal and did some tastings and chatted with the very friendly Portugese. The cultural personality is so different here than in Spain. People are friendly and chatty and all about getting to know this new stranger from out of town. In Spain, our whole, very old looking crew would wander into a small town bar and people would just merely glance at us and then go back to their cafe.

At sunset, D and I decide to get a pitcher of sangria. oops. Who knew we would become so outgoing and friendly ourselves. We found ourselves being pulled toward techno music. There was this tour bus with a DJ and special famous people and hella paparazzi. Of course, we have no clue and D decides to awaken the raver duo and all of a sudden D and I are gettin down in the middle of the plaza. Everyone is watching.

These 2 Portugese men (who work for Swatch Watch..hehe) come over to us.

"Where are you from??"

"America"

"You can not be American. Americans dont dance in the street."

Hmmm…. yeah.. well we do. And then the cool kids/famous people (a cute guy and hot chick) from the bus come over and start dancing with us. We just thought the guy was some bloke who wanted to hit on us… but then we are swarmed by paparazzi taking our pictures. He tells us something about how we have the spirit and where are all the Portugese people? Why arent they dancing?

Oh, yeah, and what comes on as we dance?? Gold Digger…Shy town represent in Porto, baby!!

As I type this, D wanders over with todays newspaper and the hot chick we were dancing with is on the front page… gotta look for the pics of us..hehe

We are hilarious

Day 26. Sarria, Spain. El Camino Pilgrimage

First off: you may have guessed it was going to happen. I was charmed by Mr.Charming himself and am now with my french friend, Jimmy. We are a Camino couple. I have been traveling for nearly 3 years now and the only relationships I have had are all travel love. Travel love is extrememly different from love at home. It is intense, wild, rapid.. because you don´t have to deal with things in the real world. So, you get to know one another very fast. And you spend sooo much time with them… breakfast..lunch..dinner… everyday. It is especially intense on this pilgrimage because it makes you so vulnerable. All the layers are being pulled away. Travel love is fun because I date men who I would never consider in the real world and I give more than I ever would. Because in a sense, it isn´t real… but it is what one would wish it could be. So, this is technically my longest relationship in over 3 years (because I have been on the move constantly).. It is quite funny that my longest relationship is with a man I can not even hold a conversation with because we don´t speak the same languauge. But, that is why I like it. It is simple. I gravitate towards men who can´t speak english… it is a habit I have picked up along the way. Keep love in the love catergory and I have my friends for long talks! It works.

Jimmy and I have been in a France vs. USA competition since day 1. From table hockey, to manners, to who can be funnier. He wins mostly. But, the other day we had a competition on who could hold out on giving the other a kiss until after dinner.. and I kicked his ass!! France 100 — US 2.

The other day we decided to compete on the 850 meter incline. We are both 0 blood type, skinny, and energetic. So, we were booking it up the mountain. All the other pilgrims where telling us that we were insane. I was in the lead at first… and he then kicked my ass!! It was 5 hours of nothing but uphill and it was 90 degress. Oh.. it felt sooo good to completely exhaust myself. My body feels so strong and happy.

Meanwhile, Danielle and her german boy were ahead of us by 15 km…so our mission was to catch up. We call Dani´s boy El Capitain… cause he is German and in charge and a drill sergant. Everyday he is up early and ready to go far. He is slow and steady like the Tortoise and Jimmy (Hare) doesn´t get out the door until noon and speeds to the destination.  I am somewhere in between the two.

That night at the albergue the shower was cold.. but my black hair accumulated so much heat from the sun.. that the water was actually hot. So, it has been intense because I havent had nearly enough water or food and racing the Hare.

The next day, Dani and I followed a hermphadite down the camino… it was strange. S/he was wearing an all jean outfit and pumas.. very uncamino. El Captian had us meet him at a destination 36 km away. Yeah.. we just about died. I was hallucinating, starving and my toe nails were ripping off. I think I mistreated my dear Dani cause I was so outta it.. i ended up leaving her in the forest, in the dark..oops… (sorry my dear!!) We arrived at the albergue after 12 hours of walking to dorm full of sleeping germans. So, Jimmy and I wandered off to a tiny village and begged a local lady to cook us dinner!! She was my angel and perhaps the nicest, happiest Spanish lady I¨have met. She kept on making us more and more food. I was crying because I was in soo much pain.. but her motherly attention and nourishing food saved me.

I woke up this morning and told Dani that I  could not possibly walk hard today. So, she is somewhere and I am in the city. Ahhh.. the city. I do love to be hardcore and rustic– but I am first and foremost a city girl. Jimmy is an antique dealer back home and has a need for atmosphere. So, he found us an albergue in an old, colonial style building. It is beautiful: Tiles everywhere, a well equipped kitchen, a cute old man. A courtyard with fountain, and room with a massive fireplace. We spent all afternoon tanning on the terrace in the sun. I even started to dance around and confused the old ladies doing laundry on their roof tops.

I saw myself in the mirror today. I am skinny. I am sooooooooo tan. Too tan. I look mongolian. I think I am gonna get skin cancer. I am often mistaken fro Brazilian and/ or Spanish.

My feet: yeah.. they are jacked. The blisters are finally callouses!! YEa!! We love callouses!! My toe nails have died and are slowly ripping off. I have turned to a cuppa de vino tinto for medicine during the day– which is cheaper than a cup of coffee may I add.

Tomorow.. who knows… tonight I am of to watch the Barcelona vs. some Itlaian team football game…

Ciao!

Sunday, April 09, 2006 No where but here! I have learned a new life long lasting, yet slightly disgusting technique: the farmers blow. Yep, this city girl is no longer innocent to the life of a farmer. You see, Ive developed a cold and on the camino I am often in the middle of no where, farmland w/ no tissue. Jimmy spent a day trying to convince me it was a good idea— and today I had a go at it. I think I am offically done w/ kleenex! I feel so raw and old man farmerish– it is great!! Today is Monday. But, apparently, the Spanish are really into Sunday–soooooo they decided to make today Sunday Part II. So, when we got to the only town after 4 hours of walking and sever hunger in our bellies, everything was closed! Sunday again. The Spainish dont fuck around when it comes to down time. The market is only open for a few hours a day and if you manage to get there on time, it is not unusual to have to wait for 30 min for them to serve 1 customer b/c they just love to take their time and talk, talk, talk! It is prolly a good thing I do nt know Spainish—makes for a quicj exit!! Yesterday, we rested in the witches lair— I swear. There was a suana made out of stones and a home filled w/ magical trinlets. I felt like I had broken into smurf village. The days are mostly filled w/ me dancing down the trail. Those that know me– know how I have to always dance! I must amuse these farmers!! On our breaks, I massage my feet w/ coconut oil, comfry salve and tigers balm. This is very importanat to survive the camino!! We are now in the middle of no where, farmland. It takes 5 hours to get to the next place w/ a building. So, I have been starving– but it is almost enlightening– climbing mountains on an empty stomach!! Ive been enjoying simplicity. It frees my mind and is soooo joyous!! When I travel– I live life in the now. When at home– I am inudated w/ options. And quite frankly–options stress me out!! What dish do I order? What outfit should I wear? Which boy do I choose? What career do I want? Yoga or running or african dance or weight lifteing?? Chicago or Seattle? Heels or flats? This degree or that? Mortgage or rent– fuck Ill just squat… And here– my thoughts are on my feet, my sleep, my food, and the path!! I love the road… the road is life!! 12:17 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove Friday, April 07, 2006 Burgos, Spain… we have a crew and blisters and clarity!! Burgos, Spain Day 7 El Camino Pilgrimage I must say, doing a walking pilgrimage is very magical, very satisfying and a whole bunch of fun. The rhythmic movement of my feet is sooooo grounding. My mind feels clear and happy. ach day is new and the past is left behind with an ultimate quickness. Some people told me that this pilgrimage was a spiritual experience… and I can now attest to that. I feel with each step I take a sense of peace and tranquility. It has been raining a lot. I am sore all over. My ankles are covered in blisters—- and I love it. And I am having a blast with Danielle— it was very long overdue that we do something like this together! We have a solid crew…Danielle, Torsten, the Zimmerman, Jimmy the french man, and me! I am learning sooo much french and Spanish by walking with Jimmy. It is quite a challenge– but the best way to learn. Yesterday we took the entire day to walk 20 km. We call it"Jimmy time". Jimmy is very out going and has to stop and talk to every one. So, we stopped in every tiny village for cafe, tapas, vino..We walked through industrial parts and parks with rivers and arrived here in Burgos– a massive city. It was quite intimadating to arrive here. Trendy people and fast paced life everywhere!! And we were dirty, tired and covered in mud. I quickly missed the small vilages in the hills. The albergue we were going to stay at was closed. So, we stopped in the city center and ate some eggs (oddly enough I have been eating like an Atkins fanatic–just cause I can not eat wheat… it is all protein for me..) So, eggs, wine and exhaustion made for some funny moments. By the time we got out of the restuarant it was dark and rainy and we had another 2km to go!! We ended up at an albergue in the forest at 9 PM. It was packed with a Spanish church group. It was worse than camp… it was like military barracks…. bunk beds pushed in close to one another. And 70 people or so. There was no time for a shower or even opening my pack. I slept in my clothes and giggled at Jimmys english until I could fall asleep. But, man oh man… can that church group snore….I felt like I was sleeping in a zoo!! While I slept my bones throbbed in places that I have never felt before. Lights out by 10 PM and out the door by 8 AM…. into the rain and off to find espresso and a wheat free breakfast. Our crew is quite the sight for the tourists. A carpenter (looks almost like a hasidic jewish man or one of the 3 amigos or a spanish cowboy– a black cordory outfit with hat), a blond girl (danielle), a very french looking, older man, and a girl who looks spanish but doesnt speak it and wears odd clothers— all covered in mud with tan and/or burnt faces. Yup– they had their cameras out for sure. Today, we will walk only 2 hours… to get rid of the church group. Pray for sun for us!!!

We have arrived n London!!! Jet lagged and mind boggeled– but here!! It feels great to be outta the States. I mean, I LOVE being outta the States. I have realized that I feel more at home when I am away these days. I mean, I have traveled soo much, that I am no longer confused when I enter foreign lands.

We hopped right on the Tube and are staying with Danielle’s old neighbors from Evantson. Yeah, we are living it up!! We are currently in a 4 floor house in St. John’s Wood (which is pretty much central London). So, it is very simliar to saying we are staying in a 4 story house in NYC— very hard to come by. This house is beautiful. Makes me wanna move here.

So, in the 1st hour we were here, my dear friend Danielle managed to lose her passport!! The adventure begins. We realized at 9 PM. We thought it might be at the airport, but I felt it was necessary to get on the Tube and go back to the grocery store at Victoria station (knowing that they’d close at 10 PM). When we arrived at Victoria, we had 5 minutes until everything closed. So, here we are– 2 jet lagged, goofy- ass Americans running our asses off through the train stations!! We arrived with 2 minutes to spare.

“Hi.. ummm..I left an American passport here.”
“Hold on. Where are you from?”
“America.”
“What state?”
“Huh? America”
“What state?”
“America.” (Why is he asking what state??)
“No, are you from California?? I need to know”
“Umm… no. Illinois, washington… I dunno”
“Hmmm…”
“We aren’t lying. The passport is ours.”

After much consideration, he handed it over. (Then lots of hugging and rejoicing)
“Okay, dude, let’s go drink some wine.”
“Yeah, let’s do it.”

We ended up at a Turkish restaurant. Eating lamb. (This is an odd occurance: we were vegans.) And drinking Rioja.

Who knows what tomorrow holds. More trains!! I love trains!! And wandering!!

Chances are pretty darn high that I will be leaving for Africa in September. 27 months in an African , French speaking country… doing public health, maternal & child development and HIV/AIDS education. There is a small chance that it will be a no go— but I am pretty darn sure I will be gone til November and then some… so save your air miles…. I’m requesting visitors!!!

Also, I will be spening the 1st 3 weeks of March in Arizona. Then Spain for 2 months with Danielle…. and I am up for anything this summer….. mainly doing extremely unreasonable and whacky things…

cheers, yo
lace

Hey y’all… it has been a while since I have been on Friendster… myspace got the best of me. I just wanted to give a quick update as to my where abouts. I am back in the states for a limited time. I got an extradionary financial offer that I had to jump on (hehe.. more travel…) So,I am in Denver for 24 days and counting. It is not so bad, I hiked around red rocks with Josh today and met up with JP and Sara in Boulder last night.

I am off to London on March 27 and then head to Spain to walk the El Camino, which is a 4-6 week pilgrimage across northern Spain. Danielle and I are doing it together and will have plenty of humorous blogs to share, promise. Then we will prolly met up with the millions of other friends in Europe and have a grand time communing and socializing. Might even get to some farms if we are lucky.

Haven’t decided about summer…thinking Seattle, maybe… but you never know.. Europe may seduce me to stay a little longer (that vixon…)

Cheers!!!

We arrived in the coastal city of San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua two days
ago. We came here because they carpenters were looking for a job.
Everything seemed to being working out. The boys got work and I was
falling in love with Nicaragua. I woke up early and ready for adventure
yesterday. I decided that we would go off the beaten path and walk to a
beautiful beach.  It was a fabulous hour and a half walk though the
lush, country side. I felt like a kid on a lazy summer day, strolling
to the swimming hole. We walked past families and churches booming with
their best sunday music. I couldn´t be happier to be out in the sun and
walking through the peaceful villages of Nicaragua.

We made it to the beach and were the only gringos there. We swam, we
tanned, we talked about our great lives. The sun was starting to go
down and we thought it would be best to head on our journey home. We
packed our stuff up and started walking with these two local boys. I
immediatly had a very bad feeling. I told Kiara that I thought the boys
might jump us. My intuition has been at an all time high on this trip.
So, I held my bag close and looked on the ground for the perfect rock
to carry. All of a sudden, the boys stopped and started rambling on in
Spanish and pointing to the bushes. I thought, they were distracting us
so they could attack. Martin is the only one who fully understands the
language. First, he translated in German to Achim and then eventually
Achim tells us that they boy was warning us about the birds in the
bushes. That this paticular kind of bird will steal our bags. Oh, sure
I thought.. the birds…. is that what you boys call yourself? We kept
walking and no birds showed their faces. We passed many local men and
said our holas. When we reached the next farm, the boy left us and
wished us safe travels. I immediatly felt guilty for suspecting that
this boy was going to jump us. After all, all the Nicaraguans have been
so nice and kind. Then not more then a couple minutes later we see two
boys out in the bush. The walked right over to us with knives in their
hands. ¨I knew it, ¨ I said. They were shouting ¨denero¨. They wanted
our money and we just stood paralyzed. One boy came over to me and put
his hand near my back, unbuckeling my bag. I held on to it tight. I
didn´t want to lose my beloved camera. I looked at him deep in his
eyes. He wasn´t there. He was high off glue or crack or something. I
think he was surprised at our resistance. He pulled and I pulled back.
I debated what I should do and logic crept in. My life is not worth a
camera. I looked down at the knife and saw it pointing at me. I kept
questioning whether he would really do it. Then I looked back at his
dark skin and dark eyes and said, ¨Please, please dont take it¨ and
released my bag.  At the same time Achim handed Kiaras bag over. We
watched them walked over to the side of the road and rumage through our
things. How strange it was to hand over my own personal belongings and
then watch some dirty, drugged out boys scavenge through them.  We
slowly walked away not knowing what to do. We quickly came to another
property and Martin thought about asking them for some machetes so that
the boyys could go back and retrieve our things. There were two women
sympathizing with us and then out of no wwhere comes our Nicaraguan
rambo. It was dad with a gun. The boys and dad go back. All they find
are our towels lying in a ditch. The boys come back and the dad and his
son go searching though the jungle for the theives. Soon, the whole
town knows what happened. The boys leave once again. And we are left
with the ladies. Grandma startes to bring out the bible and read to us
about the apocolypse. At the end of the world there will be robberies
and murders, and chaos. I have been feeling that a lot this trip. So
much violonce, drama, broken hearts, and natural disasters have
happened. This old lady was right on point. From what I could make out,
she said the angels protected us from getting hurt and that those boys
had the devil in them. I am not religious by any means, but after the
current episode you cant help but have a little faith.

We sit there with the women, while the men are off at ¨war¨until the
light in the sky completely dispapears. The bugs come out and we hear
gun shots in the distance. Kiara and I are clueless and worried. The
men appear out of no where and say that they know the boys now and we
must go confront them. So, we all walked through the darkest of dark to
the edge of town. Dad is walking so fast. He knows these streets well.
Kiara and I stumble and trip over eachother being the girls that we
are. We eventually arrive at the bar. There are no women in town. Just
a lot of drunk men. They cat call Kiara and I, and we hold on to Achim
and look at the ground. Dad pulls up to a gnag of boys and has us say
wheter they are the ones. These drunkards immediatly get massively
defensive. öh god, we are going down,¨I think. They looked us intensley
in our eyes. Here we are– whities blaming a gang of boys of stealing.
We look. These boys weren´t our boys. They all had pretty faces and
smooth, light skin. Our boys had skin as dark as the night sky, and
skin as rough as a piece of dried pork. These weren´t our boys. We left
dad with a tip of 5 dollars and walked away from the gang. Kiara and I
were afriad they´d come after us… but we disappered into the quiet
and dark. I looked up into the sky and saw millions of beautiful stars
shining ever so brightly. I havent seen a night sky like this in ages.
It brought back a since of peace. Sometimes it takes the opposite of
something to realize how great things are. It took chaos for me to look
up into that sky and remember just how beautiful life is.

Hey Check out my pics that I put up. Click the Costa Rica link on the left!!

I woke up this morning to silence and a gentle breeze. Last night, I let the crew party with out me, so I could have this early morning of solitude. It seems like ages since I have listened to my ipod and written in my journal.

We left Costa Rica. The last weeks in our little village were fun and crazy. I fell in travel love with an extremely outgoing Alaskan boy with the words LIFES SHORT tattooed across his back. Under normal circumstances, I would probably take one look at that tat and be the judgemental shit that I am. But, that is what I love about life when you are traveling; anything goes and everyone is amazing! It may be a little cheesy, but the boy does have a point. Life is too short not to love, isn´t it? So, maybe it is all in the cards. I like him though… and I just got an e-mail that he will be coming here to Nicaragua tomorrow!!

So, we said our goodbyes to Costa Rica and took a 12 hour bus ride to Granada, Nicaragua. Oh… I immediatly fell in love with this country!! I must say that Nicaragua and I get along much better then Costa Rica and I . Nicaragua is the 2nd poorest country (Haiti being #1) in the region. All the travelers in CR said Nicaragua was soo dangerous and bad. That is not my experience at all. The people here are so kind and sweet. The children will spend hours teaching you spanish and the boys tell you your beautiful!!

Granada is an old colonial, spanish city. It has amazing architecture and brightly colored buildings. The floors are beautifully tiled and the courtyards and luscious with vegetation and soothe the soul. I could spend days in these building just sitting near the courtyards and drinking tea and writing.

Probably the biggest event was Achim´s birthday. Which we had to do up carpenter style. 60 cent mojitios starting at noon and going all night long. Kiara and I ended up sober to counteract their drunk and carry those boys home. You havent seen a drinker until you´ve seen a Zimmerman drink!

We met the right traveler the other day who convinced us to go to Ometepe, a small island in Lake Nicaragua. It is beautiful here. The island has two active volcanoes on it and a peaceful vibe. And being up this early in the morning, I feel as if I have the whole island to myself.

We may have to leave the island to go to the hospital. As it turns out, one of our crew members whom as an adversion to shoes, got a hook worm in his foot. It is pretty disgusting watching the thing travel around the bottom of his foot! Ahhh.. gotta love travelin´! All I know is tha I think I will be keeping my shoes on!!

Peace